een signed than there came (2nd
June 1527) the tremendous news that the Emperor's troops under Bourbon had
entered and sacked Rome with ruthless fury, and that Pope Clement was a
prisoner in the castle of St. Angelo, clamouring for aid from all
Christian princes against his impious assailants. All those kings who
looked with distrust upon the rapidly growing power of Charles drew closer
together. When the news came, Wolsey was in France on his embassy of
surpassing magnificence, whilst public discontent in England at what was
considered his warlike policy was already swelling into fierce
denunciations against him, his pride, his greed, and his French
proclivities. English people cared little for the troubles of the Italian
Pope; or indeed for anything else, so long as they were allowed to live
and trade in peace; and they knew full well that war with the Emperor
would mean the closing of the rich Flemish and Spanish markets to them, as
well as the seizure of their ships and goods. But to Wolsey's ambition the
imprisonment of Clement VII. seemed to open a prospect of unlimited power.
If Francis and Henry were closely allied, with the support of the Papacy
behind them, Wolsey might be commissioned to exercise the Papal authority
until he relieved the Pontiff from duress, and in due course might succeed
to the chair of St. Peter. So, deaf to the murmuring of the English
people, he pressed on; his goal being to bind France and England closely
together that he might use them both.

The marriage treaty of Mary with the Duke of Orleans, instead of with his
father, was agreed upon by Francis and the Cardinal at Amiens in August
1527. But Wolsey knew that the marriage of the children could not be
completed for some years yet, and he was impatient to forge an immediately
effective bond. Francis had a sister and a sister-in-law of full age,
either of whom might marry Henry. But Katharine stood in the way, and she
was the personification of the imperial connection. Wolsey had no
scruples: he knew how earnestly his master wished for a son to inherit his
realm, and how weak of will that master was if only he kept up the
appearance of omnipotence. He knew that Katharine, disappointed, glum, and
austere, had lost the charm by which women rule men, and the plan, that
for many months he had been slowly and stealthily devising, was boldly
brought out to light of day. Divorce was easy, and it would finally
isolate the Emperor if Katharine w