1517 sent Henry and his wife as far
away from contagion as possible, for sickness always frightened the big
bully into a panic. During his absence from London, Wolsey was busy
negotiating a still closer alliance with France, by the marriage of the
baby Princess Mary to the newly born Dauphin. It can hardly have been the
match that Katharine would have chosen for her cherished only child, but
she was a cypher by the side of Wolsey now, and made no open move against
it at the time. Early in the spring of 1518 the plague broke out again,
and Henry in dire fear started upon a progress in the midlands. Richard
Pace, who accompanied him, wrote to Wolsey on the 12th April telling him
as a secret that the Queen was again pregnant. "I pray God heartily," he
continued, "that it may be a prince to the surety and universal comfort of
the realm;" and he begs the Cardinal to write a kind letter to the Queen.
In June the glad tidings were further confirmed, as likely to result in
"an event most earnestly desired by the whole kingdom." Still dodging the
contagion, the King almost fled from one place to another, and when at
Woodstock in July Henry himself wrote a letter to Wolsey which tells in
every line how anxious he was that the coming event should be the
fulfilment of his ardent hope. Katharine had awaited him at Woodstock,
and he had been rejoiced at the confident hope she gave him. He tells
Wolsey the news formally, and says that he will remove the Queen as little
and as quietly as may be to avoid risk. Soon all the diplomatists were
speculating at the great things that would happen when the looked-for
prince was born; and it was probably the confident hope that this time
Henry would not be disappointed, that made possible the success of
Wolsey's policy and the marriage of the Princess Mary with the infant
Dauphin. Of Wolsey's magnificent feasts that accompanied the ratification
of peace and the betrothal on the 5th October, feasts more splendid, says
the Venetian ambassador, than ever were given by Caligula or Cleopatra, no
account can be given here. It was Wolsey's great triumph, and he surpassed
all the records of luxury in England in its celebration. The sweet little
bride dressed in cloth of gold stood before the thrones upon which her
father and mother sat in the great Hall of Greenwich, and then, carried in
the arms of a prelate, was held up whilst the Cardinal slipped the diamond
wedding-ring upon her finger and blessed her