entence of the Church, though as yet the fiat was held back at the
instance of the Emperor. The dread of war and the general unrest arising
from this state of things had well-nigh destroyed the English oversea
trade; the harvest was a bad one, and food was dear. Ecclesiastics
throughout the country were whispering to their flocks curses of Nan
Bullen, for whose sake the Church of Christ was being split in twain and
its ministers persecuted.[131] Anne, it is true, was now quite a secondary
personage as a political factor, but upon her unpopular head was heaped
the blame for everything. The wretched woman, fully conscious that she was
the general scapegoat, could only pray for a son, whose advent might save
her at the eleventh hour; for failing him she knew that she was doomed.

In the meanwhile the struggle was breaking Katharine's heart. For seven
years she had fought as hard against her fate as an outraged woman could.
She had seen that her rights, her happiness, were only a small stake in
the great game of European politics. To her it seemed but righteous that
her nephew the Emperor should, at any cost, rise in indignant wrath and
avenge the insult put upon his proud line, and upon the Papacy whose
earthly champion he was, by crushing the forces that had wrought the
wrong. But Charles was held back by all sorts of considerations arising
from his political position. Francis was for ever on the look-out for a
weak spot in the imperial armour; the German Protestant princes, although
quite out of sympathy with Henry's matrimonial vagaries, would look
askance at a crusade to enforce the Pope's executorial decree against
England, the French and moderate influence in the College of Cardinals was
strong, and Charles could not afford by too aggressive an action against
Henry to drive Francis and the cardinals into closer union against
imperial aims, especially in the Mediterranean and Italy, where, owing to
the vacancy in the duchy of Milan, they now mainly centred. So Katharine
clamoured in vain to those whose sacred duty she thought it was to
vindicate her honour and the faith. Both she, and her daughter at her
instigation, wrote burning letters to the Pope and the imperial agents,
urging, beseeching, exhorting the Catholic powers to activity against
their oppressor. Henry and Cromwell knew all this, and recognising the
dire danger that sooner or later Katharine's prayer to a united
Christendom might launch upon England an ava