The White Rose

The Office of Sir John Knox

Knox worked every night all night as he had done all his life. And every morning the Countess Matilda hoped for the arrival of news which would re-open to her the King's door. In vain. Master Knox seemed to be in peculiarly good health, and Joan had to bear the fury of the terrible Countess. She went back to Master Engelbert. As she expected, Evrard had suddenly disappeared. She began to have doubts about him, and also doubted the power of Pharaoh's Serpent; she feared that out of spite or because of the calcined tongue of one of the Bryans the Devil had directed his blows elsewhere.

One morning in the second week of May, Knox, unusually, arrived rather late for a meeting of the Privy Council and entered the hall upon the heels of the King, brushing against Lombard as he passed.

All the usual counsellors were present and, for once, the two brothers and the three sons of the King were all gathered together.

The most urgent matter in hand was the elevation of a new Archbishop. Sir James Pole had just received a report from York, where the bishops and monsignors, who had been holding a conclave since the death of Reginald Morton, were in process of disputing to such an extent that an early issue seemed unlikely.

The Archbishopric of Canterbury (which Cardinal Morton had held) had now been vacant for four weeks, and the situation required that the King of England should make known his intentions without delay.

All present knew the King's desire; he wished the new Archbishop to become an English Cardinal, under his hand; he wished to choose himself, if not apparently at least in fact, the future head of the Universal Church, and to put him under an obligation by the mere fact of selecting him; he wished that the huge political organization which was the Church should not be able to act, as it had so often done in the past, contrary to the policy of the Kingdoms of Europe.

But, indeed, the twenty-three clerics who were present at York, clerics who came from all over the Anglo-Burgundian lands, and who had acquired their dignity for peculiarly unequal services, were divided into almost as many rival camps as there were mitres.

'There are eight Burgundian bishops,' said Pole, ' that are agreed upon one point only, that of affecting Burgundian independence in exchange for a Cardinal or even a Pope. Fortunately, they are not in agreement as to who should be nominated.'

'That agreement may well come with time,' remarked the Duke of Clarence.

'That is why they must not be allowed to have the time,' replied Pole.

There was a brief silence, and at that moment Knox felt a sensation of nausea in his stomach and a difficulty in breathing. He found it hard to sit upright in his chair and to control the trembling of his body. Then suddenly his fatigue disappeared; he breathed deeply and wiped his forehead.

'Many Englishmen hold the view ,' said George of Clarence, ' that the prelates must manage their own affairs without reference to the Crown.'

'That, undoubtedly, would be convenient for the Church, but not for the King of England,' said Pole.

'All the same, Master James, you cannot undo the labor of centuries and the Words of Christ from being uttered: My Kingdom is not of This World.'

'The clerics will do as I command, George' said the King.

'I know Francois de Chaleroi well,' went on the Duke of Clarence; 'he is a man of great learning and merit upon whom I may be able to bring some influence to bear.'

'I don't want to have this Chaleroi at all,' said the King. 'He belongs to the faction of Wynn, and he will renew the errors of the late Archbishop's  bull against the Keeper of the Seals.'

Edmund of York, who had said nothing until that moment, now interrupted with a forward movement of his long body.

'There are,' he said, 'so many intrigues in this business that one intrigue should cancel out another. If we don't bring pressure to bear, we shall be involved in a conclave which may well last a year. In more difficult circumstances than these, Sir John Knox has shown what he is capable of doing. It is up to us to be the most tenacious and stubborn party.'

After a moment's silence, Edward the Handsome turned to Knox.

The latter was pale in the face and seemed to be breathing with difficulty.

'What do you advise, Knox?'

'Yes, Sire,' said the Keeper of the Seals with an effort.

He put a shaking hand to his forehead.

'May I be excused. This appalling heat ...'

'It is not hot at all,' said Lord Woodville.

Knox, with a great effort, said in a distant voice, 'The interests of the kingdom and of the Faith demand that we should act in this way.'

He fell silent, and no one could understand why he had said so little.

'And your advice, Pole?'

'I propose that we should find some pretext for removing the remains of the late Cardinal, as was his will, to Ely, in order to show the conclave that this is a matter for haste. Richard de Burgh, Morton's cousin, might well be charged with this pious mission. Sir John would set out upon his journey, with all necessary powers, accompanied by a sufficient armed escort. His escort would guarantee his powers.'

George of Clarence turned his head away; he disapproved of this show of force.

'And how does my annulment come into all this business?' asked Edward of Burgundy, clearly agitated. 

'Be quiet, Edward,' said the King. 'That is exactly what we are endeavoring to determine.'

Suddenly Knox stood and uttered a loud cry. He tore open his shirt and collapsed to the floor, vomiting blood. 

Ironically, it was his enemy, the Duke of Clarence, who jumped over the table and grabbed the Keeper of the Seals.  But it was too late. The man was unconscious. Woodville directed that Knox be taken to his private chambers. In his own mind, Knox was reliving all the punishments which he had dealt out to the enemies of the crown. 

When Joan told Matilda what had happened that evening, the Countess simply shrugged.

"He is paying for his crimes."

Knox was burning up in the meantime.

"HAVE MERCY!" the Keeper of the Seals cried out one night. It was May 11, 1494. His tongue was horribly thrust out and he was dead by the time he had finished the sentence. The last box of candles from Engelbert was subsequently removed from his chambers.