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| What connections can buy you...; Bishop of London Bishes! | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Dec 23 2011, 10:44 AM (677 Views) | |
| William Spencer | Dec 23 2011, 10:44 AM Post #1 |
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Lord Winchester (courtesy)
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Late December, 1512 Christmastide was filled with revelry and splendor at the court of King Henry VIII, and William was thrust at the heart of it, charged with more responsibility than he had perhaps fathomed. He was hosting the French delegation and their entourage whilst there was negotiations for an alliance and a marriage between Monsieur le Prince of France and Princess Mary of England. Thus far, the two young royals seemed pleased with each other which was a godsend. With France and England at peace, he could feel two halves of himself united. He would no longer be in danger in either place, nor persecuted stupidly for his noble blood from the other country. He had not given thought to the fact that his new-found alliance and his resulting security would put a target on his back in a different way. The English had before been very ignorant of his continental holdings, seemingly happy to spread rumours about him instead. Now their court had born witness to William's associations and blood with the French. No longer could the English spread xenophobic lies that he was Henry Spencer's bastard with some French whore, because said French whore's father, the duke of Nemours, was there to be the voice of political reason in the young duke of Valois's royal ear for King Louis. It spread very quickly that this man whose holdings were nearly the entire southern fifth of France bordering Navarre and Italy was William's very legitimate grandfather. The influx of French for the negotiations had taught much of the English exactly what it meant that Lord Wilmington was the ultimate inheritor of the entire d'Armagnac family. Yet this changed little of William's general demeanor. He was as he had been raised to be: a servant of God and his King. He did only as he could do, in his eyes, which was to serve whichever king God brought him circumstances to serve. Now, that was England and King Henry. He knew what the future would bring even if he could not voice it. He knew his life in England was not permanent. Anybody who knew his genealogy would know that it could not be permanent. One day his French grandfather would die. Until then, he was a Spencer, an English subject serving an English king. While most in his circumstances would be unbearably haughty, William had spent his entire life up until his 22nd year serving someone and some of the most powerful men in Europe. Instead, he just carried himself with a noble grace, intelligent and humorous and sometimes self-deprecating. He was inviting and easy to like, only asking for people to treat him well and with respect, which he reciprocated appropriately in turn. To him the world was a place where each person deserved treatment according to their merits and morals and birth. Anyone who dashed those social expectations could find themselves on the receiving end of a decidedly Spencer temper stirred up with the sort of unforgiving arrogance that only a man born of many noble houses of the continent could manage. When thwarted or threatened, William Spencer did not allow himself to be trounced or humbled beneath himself. Few saw that side of him. He was not vindictive or over-reaching. What need was there to push or over-reach when all he needed to do was allow God to dictate the course of his fortunes? The pieces were all there, and when they were put into place, he would have more than any of these Englishmen aside from His Majesty. He had no need for self-convincing arrogance, putting others into 'their place' to make himself feel higher or powerful. Pride always came before the fall, and anyone who had grown up in the court of ANY sovereign ruler knew that phrase did not apply only to Godly matters. So, it was not out of character at all for William to be kind to those that some might consider lesser or unworthy of their presence, like Sir Thomas More. Thomas was more worthy than a hundred nobles to William. The rest mattered not. The Bishop of London was one such person. He had enlisted the man's help with his brother Francis, trying to convince the boy to take his Holy Vows as his family had wished; afterall, the eighteen year old had been educated for many years in Pisa to begin his career on the pathway to the nobility of the church. Francis was unrepentant and hedonistic about everything, or had been. When their English grandfather had died, Francis had obviously thought his brother would not force him to join the church. William could hardly 'force' him, but he could try and make him rather miserable until he did whilst engaging every cleric of worth near court to assail his brother with lectures and threats of hellfire. Ultimately a combination of all of that plus accompanying William to war had convinced his brother to stay on the path. It had not hurt that their grandfather, the Duke of Nemours, had been able to grant Francis the bishopric he had demanded to make up for his sacrifices. Francis would go back to France with the French and take up residence as Bishop of Condom within the County of d'Armagnac in the south. It was of more than one purpose and Francis was happy, and he was happy once again be 'Francois' and to live where he was born, in France. The possession of Château de Mothes and the Château de Pouypardin did not hurt matters. Bribery within the church and nobility. Money spoke to both. Possessions and land spoke to both. William had lived in Naples and stayed in Rome, he knew better than most. Now Francois would be a bishop without yet even being a full priest, and even though not uncommon, it was somehow amusing and fitting. He was itching the unleash that news on his dinner guest, as he had invited said Bishop to dine with him. Of course, he waited until they had concluded their meal and moved to a grand parlor with a roaring fire to keep out the winter chill and dampness which were very bad for the state of his shoulder. As they sat down, William smiled a bit mischievously at the elder man, "I admit, my lord, that I have been waiting like a baited dog held at bay to tell you about the culmination of matters with mon chiot," which is what he generally called his baby brother to others who knew them both well. "You will recall, he whined that he would gladly keep on his holy path if I secured him something worthy of his stature and birth, citing that our Holy Father was made cardinal at fifteen or sixteen without being yet a sworn priest and being born no higher and coming from no richer of a family. I smacked him, of course, and told him to earn it and pray for it instead of demanding it blasphemously like I must bribe him and God as well." He shook his head and raised his chalice of wine after his valet and cousin, Thomas, handed it to him. "As if yet proof that I understand none of God's workings and must be but a servant to them, my grandfather and King Louis have appointed him to the bishopric of Condom and the pope has approved, proving yet again that who you play with as a little boy in Italy can yet grant you many things." He took another sip of the Rousillon a hearty, flavourful red from southern France, as Thomas held out a chalice to the cleric. He chuckled a bit more, mostly to himself, thinking about the two years he had spent in Italy and the many years his brother had spent there. Aside from His Majesty and Wolsey, William (and by extension his younger brother) were the only people who knew the late queen was Giovanni Medici's bastard daughter instead of his legitimate niece. They only knew because they had both played with her as a child in the then Cardinal's palazzo while their uncle was Viceroy of Naples. It proved, yet again, how intimate connections made one's way in the world. How an unrepentant, would-be priest, who was admirably good at making everyone love him like a misbehaving puppy, became a bishop in France! |
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| Richard FitzJames | Dec 23 2011, 03:12 PM Post #2 |
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Bishop of London
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At the invitation to dine with William Spencer, Earl of Wilmington among other distinguished titles, Richard had been delighted and joyful. Richard had found the Earl of Wilmington a very agreeable person, he was kind and well-spoken without being haughty as most noblemen had been so far, at least those who Richard had experienced. William and the Spencer family were no strangers to Richard, he had had the pleasure of being in their acquaintance for a few years now and so he knew them rather well. It had all started with William seeking Richard’s help to motivate his younger brother to follow the path of the men of the cloth. And so Richard had agreed willingly to talk to the young man, since he figured it would not hurt to help such a distinguished and powerful man. Several very serious talks with François took place, some ended in some sort of consensus, others in near bloodshed, but through and through Richard felt that he had reached some sort of result, at least he had made the boy think, contemplate his situation. From time to time Richard had sent letters to the young man, urging him in a discreet and friendly way to continue his path within the holy church. He knew he was not the only one trying to push the young man in that direction, but at least he had done what he could and so he hoped that William would recognise that. The dinner was of course exquisite, he would have expected nothing less being the guest of the Earl of Wilmington and the heir to the south of France, from what Richard had heard. Truly in William’s shadow Richard was a mere dust particle, if even so much, but they did not belong to the same world. William was born a great nobleman, he was more or less destined to shoulder the mantle of his great ancestors. Richard on the other hand was born a nobody, a bastard and a commoner, but he had through his qualities and his cheer will managed to become the Bishop of London, which he never in his wildest dreams had imagined. Now he had grey hair, and he could count his years many, but he still hoped he could advance, it would complete the work he had finished and it would certainly have made his father in heaven proud. And so dinner was concluded, and Richard was full, full of good food and excellent wine. He forced himself not to overindulge, since he did not wish to appear greedy or ill-mannered. During dinner he and the Earl had spoken only of light subjects, the state of the realm’s economy for example, and Richard had been careful to ask the Earl about the Royal stables as he knew of William’s affection to horses. Now they left the grand table and entered an even grander room which was heated to an agreeable level . In comparison to Richard’s own so called palace, William’s home was far more sumptuous. Fullham Palace was in a terrible state, the roof leak water when it rained at some places, the façade was in a ruinous state and for that reason Richard avoided to the furthest not to invite important people there. Richard took a seat in the comfortable chair next to the fireplace and was offered a chalice of wine, which he refused in an overly polite way, moderation in everything, he thought to himself knowing all too well that he did not always follow that virtue. He smiled his discreet smile as William told him about his brother, Richard was quite fond of the both by now, he admitted to himself that in the beginning of their acquaintance he saw them as a mean to gain more power, but he had grown to sort of care for them. He shook his head hearing what François had demanded, but not in a condemning way, only as a uncle hearing his nephew having done a prank. Richard’s smile broadened further as he heard what had been granted François, a bishopric in France! Well well, who wouldn’t want that thought Richard to himself. He finally opened his mouth to comment the news “I am most pleased to heard this my dear Lord, it seems God has answered our prayers, now if anytime dear François will feel that he has a duty to fulfil and so he must continue on his path in our holy church“ Richard said with his rather dark, melodious voice, still smiling warmly. He was sincerely happy that the boy finally had gotten an opportunity to walk the true path, the one he was supposed to walk. “I must speak with him and congratulate him upon his appointment, perhaps I can convince him once and for all that a place in the holy church is a place for him” he added, now things would be much easier since he could now tempt François with a carrot instead of whipping and urging him with words. “Indeed my Lord, it seems it all comes down to your connections, no matter how talented or untalented you are” remarked Richard discreetly with a polite smile. (( If you think I have assumed too much regarding Richard’s relationship to William and the Spencer family please don’t hesitate to say, I will change it right away!)) |
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| William Spencer | Dec 25 2011, 01:55 AM Post #3 |
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Lord Winchester (courtesy)
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William had always liked the bishop, and it was rather true that William liked anyone who had been kind to him when his grandfather was still alive. Since the man was much older than him, and the man had known him since he was a youth, William knew little of what the man's ambitions might be or any of the baser parts of the cleric's character. Nor did he particularly think of any ulterior sort of motives the man would have, because he liked to believe that priests were true servants of God. A bishop was a nobleman of the church, and as with everyone of noble stature, William believed such people to have character that reflected that position until he was shown differently. All William knew was that the man had very good conversation and counsel both in and out of confession, and that their past had shown to him that FitzJames had a kindness of heart and sense of responsibility. Whether that was true was immaterial. It was William's opinion. When he was younger so many people easily dismissed him or ignored him in England. William had not really talked to much of anyone about how his grandfather treated him, they all knew because they all witnessed it or its after effects, but one did not talk about one's family business. It just was not done. That had been a heavy burden for him and a source of serious spiritual conflict; considering he had thought being sent to live in England was nothing more than--at that time--four years of penance for something cosmically horrific he must have done to merit it. He had even faulted himself for his father's death and thought the pain and lameness in his right arm and shoulder was also some sort of punishment from God. He literally had a mental battle at that age about what exactly he was supposed to do spiritually, because he had never before had wicked sorts of thoughts or actively planned out precisely how and why he was going to knowingly sin. Prior to his grandfather Wilmington entering his life, he had been nothing other than a good boy, quiet and obedient, and repentant when he did something wrong. He had not even liked the evil thoughts he had about wishing his grandfather would just die so he could not be tormented, even if he felt justified in them. Any kindness went a long way then. It had seemed that one confession led to others and to asking after him when they crossed paths, which was often enough at court. That had not changed very much as he had gotten older, save for the two years he spent in France when he was nineteen. It had been why he had enlisted the man's help with Francis. William knew first hand what the man could do and say. It had helped him, why not his brother? A bemused smile crossed William's face as the man seemed to take genuine pleasure in the news. "My prodigal baby brother prays for a bishopric and gets one--assuming he prayed at all--and yet complains of what I have and will have," he said, with a laugh. "How easy for him to say when he did not endure near the torment. He told me that it has given me far more the disposition for spirituality than he and that he would trade. In jest, I hope." He shrugged it off with a small smile. "Your talks seemed to have helped even if it took some time and incidental bribery." He paused to take a sip of his wine. "My grandfather has standing garrison in the area, and he is very old, not wishing to deal much with such matters. My uncles are now both dead. My brother and I the only two boys, born of the youngest sibling of seven. Francis will help him administrate, and God help us if the Spanish get any ideas, become some fashion of warrior priest. He would think he was a Borgia." William laughed. That name was synonymous with sacrilege in both bloodshed and fornication. If there was anything else that William knew about Rome, it was that his idea that priesthood was sexually sacred was smashed to pieces there. In 1501, he had been in Rome for the infamous Ballet of Chestnuts in attendance to his uncle who had gone. Even for a sexually enlightened twelve year old, that had been way more than enough to open William's eyes. When word flew around the Palazzo that the pope himself measured the worth of a man by his virility, William's eyes had likely turned to saucers. There were bastard children of cardinals and popes running around Rome all over! "Indeed, it does, which sows the seed of dishonesty in nearly everyone, or worse. Ruining a man or killing a man to get ahead. Plotting someone's downfall...I am simply grateful I have no need for such machinations. I am content with what I am given, but I am more fortunate than most. Perhaps that is the difference. Even without, when I was still just a boy, I did not have it in me. I was happy then; Monsieur Guillaume who had 2 uncles, 3 aunts, all married, most with children, and I was perhaps to be given a viscountcy or perhaps a small county by my grandfather when I married. I had an elder half-brother mostly grown on my father's side who should have been Wilmington. God's plans for me have done well thus far, if not always clearly pleasant, so what need have I of more? I was not born to any of what I have." |
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| Richard FitzJames | Dec 25 2011, 04:51 AM Post #4 |
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Bishop of London
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Richard could clearly recall when he met William for the first time, it was about this time of year, December that is, the same year the Richard had been translated to the see of London. Court was still new to him, even though he had visited it sometimes as bishop of Chichester. It had taken 6 months to get invited to court, six long months from his appointment as bishop of London to the time that he were to see the king. Richard knew then as well as now that it was the work of his great rival bishop Foxe of Winchester. However; William had been an equerry at that time, in his grandfather’s service as Master of the Horse. He had taken care of Richard’s horse as he arrived. And of course Richard were kept waiting for several hours (yet again bishop Foxe’s work), and so he had talked to the boy. By pure accident he had also overheard how the boy were treated by his grandfather, and within his heart he felt sorry for the poor boy who seemed so good and helpful. Although Richard was not very often at court he still dwelled within London and as the court were stationed in London most of the time of the year, he would occasionally meet courtiers. That way he also meet William form time to time, and he talked to him on occasion and if there were time he offered the boy something to drink or eat. Eventually the boy wanted him to hear his confession, and so Richard had did, and felt even sorrier for William as he heard how he struggled to be good and helpful and got nothing in return but sharp words and hard fists. Richard tried by the best of his abilities to guide and counsel young William. But there was little Richard de facto could do for William, the now late Earl of Wilmington was a powerful man, at least more so than Richard. But Richard would like to believe that he did what he could for the poor chap. At this time it was the callings of God that had made him embrace the young boy, and his own human instinct of course, he could see himself in William, as Richard had not been treated well by his step-father in his early years. Anyway all that was now in the past, and William was now a very distinguished and formidable nobleman, he had indeed sorted himself out in a successful way. Or rather he had endured his grandfather’s terrors successfully. Then eventually William returned from France with his younger brother Francis or François according to French customs, and it seemed the boy had lost track of the path he had walked. Naturally he was asked by William to guide the young man in the right direction, in an not all too different way he had guided William years earlier. It was of course not easy, Francis was a very stubborn boy, and spoiled too in Richard’s opinion, but he was perfectly lovable and Richard had grown to like him just as he had with William. Now finally this struggle to lead the lamb in the right direction seemed to come to some sort of a conclusion, at least hopefully, with God’s helping hand. Richard chuckled a little “Is that not only a natural response of being raised in such a distinguished family, if one does not have at least the title “Earl” by one’s eighteenth birthday great jealousy will rise” said Richard in good humour, as a joke, and smiled. “I am sure that dear Francis will realise that he has been blessed with great gifts from heaven. He will be a bishop, and he will sit by his grandfather’s side helping him rule his land in the south of France, many would only dream of such a chance” he said more seriously but still with a little smile on his lips. “My dear Lord, let us hope he would not become a Borgia, let us hope he will find his own way. I am sure he will reach far, he will at least be a cardinal I am sure, but perhaps even a pope” said Richard still in the spirit of the humour and benignity that flourished within the room. Richard himself had not much experience of carnal intercourse at least not ad of late, of course before becoming a priest in the holy church he had done what every young man did. But he took his holy vows seriously and so he had not sinned in that way since he became a man of the cloth and a lamb of the holy church. It had not been one of his weaknesses, sexual misconduct; he had far worse temptations such as greed and pride. “Indeed it is condemnable my lord” Richard said shortly knowing that he very well could be one of those that the Earl spoke of. “Yes indeed my Lord, God has turned his smiling face towards you, you are truly blessed, but God works in mysterious ways my Lord, he rewards those of true Christian heart, such as yourself” he said seriously. A nagging little voice inside Richard’s head asked what William had done to receive such a blessing of wealth and land, but Richard quickly crushed that thought and smiled a little smile, he was determined to not begrudge William his fortune, it was well deserved considering the test the young man had to pass in his childhood. |
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| William Spencer | Dec 25 2011, 07:34 PM Post #5 |
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Lord Winchester (courtesy)
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William let out a chuckle. It was not wholly untrue, such was the age for younger brothers to be jealous when their eldest brother was given everything as their male relations died off. It was a common occurrence in England. In France, only certain titles were predestined to follow solely primogeniture. The rest usually followed a semi-Salic Law, following male preference but allowing titles and property to be passed to a woman and also to be willed elsewhere, such as younger sons or nephews. Such was the difference between nobles who still had seigneurial rights, as in France, where their holdings were still semi-sovereign versus England where power had been far more centralized. Nearly nothing could be help by a woman in England, it was very isolated and very backward to a man who had been raised on the continent. "He is indeed very blessed to be given this opportunity, and I pray that his heart and education will serve him well so that he represents our houses with dignity. That he goes from being my puppy to perhaps my wolf. I surely will need him by my side one day to help administer my estates. If he stops acting like an unrepentant child." He heaved a heavy sigh. "My grandfather laments Francis' time in England and that he was not well-enough governed when he was studying in Pisa. He has many bad habits, and would have done better in someone's household growing up, but he reforms himself while our grandfather is here and was never so bad in France. I can hope, at least, this will set him--with motivation--on his proper path." England had never agreed with his brother who was decidedly more French than William in his speech and mannerisms. At least, Francis did not sound English much at all, because he had only spent two years in the country before leaving. "I would assuredly wish him to have a stronger moral compass than a Borgia while maintaining that astute intelligence and political prowess," he replied, honestly, holding back another chuckle. "I cannot lay much criticism against the late Holy Father, at the very least, my uncle held the Kingdom of Naples as Viceroy when he was in power. My own vanity and self-interest incites me to think and say that my life would be infinitely simpler with a brother in such a position." Cardinal or Pope. If that were to happen, the reconquest of Naples would be far simpler. Of anywhere, William would rather go back to Italy, but he would need a massive army to do so. His grandfather Nemours would not allow him the money until Milan was once again in control of the Valois. The logistics of getting an army south would be a waste of gold without Milan and an assurance that they could get through the Papal States. At the same time, his grandfather was obligated to the Kingdom of Navarre, being of the line of a princess of Navarre, so it was simply not feasible. As talk turned to subjects of a more serious nature, William's smile took on that burdened, modest sort of look. He was, perhaps, his own worst critic on such matters. "It is kind of you to say, but you have always been kind to me, my lord...and perhaps my heart truly does have good intentions, but I am hardly free from sin. Far from. But you know that and what my shortcomings are, what condition my soul is in, likely better than anyone else knows. I feel as if one set of things to repent for are merely replaced by others. Whatever tribulations our Heavenly Father gives me, quickly replaced by more." He swirled his wine around in his chalice, a contemplative look on his face. His eyes were unblinking as he sat, comfortably staring at the fire as he thought. It was apropos in a way. To talk about sin and stare at a fire. Then again, since William could not engage in many manly sports, his mind was what he exercised, and he found meaning in many things. "Perhaps more men would be more concerned about the state of their soul if they had thrice been through Viaticum without dying...and not by scared priests who cannot tell when someone is going to die but by two cardinals and Bishop Fischer." His blue eyes didn't move from the fire. "When I was seven Cardinal d'Amboise, rest his soul, told me to pray God took me quickly after a hunting accident that killed my father, because purification by pain here would not be pleasant." Of course, to a seven year old he'd put it much nicer, but even as a small boy, he'd known what the gist of the meaning was. His injuries had been horrendous and not the sort that one recovered from. Truly, William never had recovered from them, he simply had not died. The shoulder was there as a reminder. "There were many times during those weeks when I couldn't even cry it hurt so badly. He sat with me a few times over the months I could not much leave bed. Many years later, I left with him to join with my uncle in Naples, as he was acting as an ambassador to Rome for King Louis. He told me then that the closer you truly come to God, the more torment and suffering your soul is open to...from tests to your faith by God or by assaults from demons seeking to damn you to Hell. I have never forgotten those talks...do you believe that, my lord? That those who are the closest to God are asked to sacrifice and suffer more, like our Saviour?" He had not asked it in a haughty way, equating himself with that, but in a searching sort of way. |
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| Richard FitzJames | Dec 26 2011, 02:58 AM Post #6 |
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Bishop of London
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”Oh we must have patience my Lord, you can hardly expect an eighteen-year-old to realise his own potential, little alone shoulder such a great and heavy burden willingly. He is not you Will… my Lord, he has not endured what you did. Your trial and what you experienced made you more grown up than any adolescence I have ever met, you understood the meaning of responsibility and duty. I am sure, in time, Francis will also understand the place he has been given, but it will be a process rather than a sudden happening” said Richard seriously, having almost slipped with his tongue saying William rather than my Lord, but he had remembered in time to change to the appropriate style. Richard was in fact convinced that Francis would come around in time, in his experience young men had this kind of period in their adolescence when they tested limits and tried to define themselves an own individual. Richard had perhaps not gone through such a period, not in the way Francis did, no his transference from boy to young man had been much more a calm business, a spiritual one. “Ah now I do see what you were hinting at” said Richard and smiled a little “Yes since you put it that way my Lord I am inclined to agree with you. I suppose the Borgia family are no more divine than any other family, they had their flaws – as do we all indeed” said Richard, but although he had not met any of the members of the Borgia family, he considered them all - and in particular Rodrigo Borgia, or his “holiness” Alexander VI, to have been the worst papal controllers ever to have held that post. And so he chose not to comment as William said he could not object to how the late pope had done things. Richard simply smiled a little polite smile. He had not given much thought to that William in fact would become one of the key-players on the political arena of Europe, to Richard he was in many ways still that little boy he had met years ago. But things would change, as they always did, and soon Richard would have to realise that William was no little boy anymore but rather a prince of vast lands and grand fortunes. It would suit his ambitious side very well to have a friend like that, but those thoughts were kept dormant for the time-being, no idea to rush. “My dear Lord, who is free from sin, I ask you, only our saviour Jesus Christ that walked once upon this earth would be able title himself free from sin without being blasphemes. Do not fear or despair my Lord, you are one of the flock, and God watches over you even though he may test you” said Richard seriously but with something warm in his voice as to offer William some comfort. He knew that the young lord devoted a great deal of time to contemplation, which in its essence was good, but it could be harmful in too high a dose. For a young man in William’s age it was not very usual to think about sin, death, heaven and hell, but that was the natural outcome of what he had experienced. “The late Cardinal, rest his soul, was a very wise man then. For I believe with all my heart that he was right when he said that God tests those He loves the most. Think only of Abraham who were told by God to sacrifice his son Isaac, and how God stopped him when he saw how faithful and true he was. Do never forget that you are one of his lambs and that he will watch over you” said Richard with a comforting little smile “God would not have saved you from death three times for no reason my Lord, you are one of his special lambs, you are meant to one day be one of the leaders of the flock. So you see my Lord, although you might find yourself in darkness, that darkness is really the light which God have sent, for as long as you put your faith in him he will look after you” he added to lay even more weight to his other argument. Richard had heard the stories that William told before of course but it was still moving to him, especially since he had some sort of emotional connection to William. All that the young boy had experienced had left marks upon him, both in his soul and upon his body; his lame arm and impracticable shoulder among others. But yet he sat there, more alive than most people, and Richard had to admit that in some depth of his heart it gave him pleasure and warmth to see. |
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| William Spencer | Dec 26 2011, 10:55 AM Post #7 |
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Lord Winchester (courtesy)
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A small smile crossed his face when the bishop nearly called him by his first name (or perhaps was going to call him by his title, informally, just Wilmington). "You can call me by my Christian name, my lord. If any should feel the ease in using it, it should be those in the service of who created me." He chuckled a bit. In many ways William probably was more suited than his brother for spiritual matters. For the most part, he did not excuse his brother, but nor did he blame him entirely, not when a good deal of the portion of the blame was to be held by those charged with governing Francis. As he thought that and the bishop said that William had been more grown than most his age, his blue eyes traveled behind him as he craned his head to look at his cousin, Thomas. Seventeen and more of a man than Francis in many ways. At least, by the way William measured a man. All the intelligence in the world did not excuse you from operating within the constraints of society like his younger brother attempted. "Perhaps you have too much been exposed to very troubled youths," William replied, with a sly smile, reaching a hand up to push a lock of black hair from tickling the space between his eyebrows. A pleased little chuckle coming between his lips as he remembered the absurdity he had been exposed to with his brother. One would think a college of divinity would have had a bit less hedonism and a bit more, well, divinity. "Thomas, here, is nearly two years younger, and he acts with more responsibility and integrity. He is also the grandson of an earl. The difference being that his father, my uncle, prepared him for the expectations of the world and his future whilst Francis grew up with no father, an English grandfather who hated him as much as me and ignored him, and instead was shipped off to Pisa at twelve. One would think that a safe place for a boy to grow to be respectable, but instead it spared him too much from the birch...I was not master of my brother then, but I should have perhaps been concerned when his priestly tutors had no issues finding him naked in the morning with his cherubic glow, entwined with a gaggle of women and his older brother, saying only 'Venite a mio agnellino ... tempo per gli studi e la gloria di Dio.'" William shook his head. At the time, it had been somewhat amusing to him but ages nineteen to one and twenty had been his furthest from God. Mistreated for six years in England and at the first sign of trouble, his grandfather had tossed him right out on his arse without even things which were his, sending him back to France as if he had been the one who had done the most evil wrong. Twice the man had just abandoned him and then faulted him for it. So when he had gone back to France, he had, in a way, made up for all the perceived injustices of his world. "Not that I should have been entwined with whores either or modeling the indecency for him, but he well knew and had partaken long before I came along...I at least had the sense to be ashamed at being caught in such a state, and I wasn't destined to be a priest. I think I was more bothered than Padre Pio at the entire debacle. Frightening in retrospect and that is all likely why a large preponderance of any man of the cloth who studied in Pisa, Padua, or Rome has bastards fifteen or sixteen years his junior running about. It was treated like a common occurrence." He stared back at the fire and blinked. Events were so shaping, and he oft thought about his contributions to his brother's state. He had been close with Francis until an entire continent had separated them when his brother had gone to Italy and William stayed in England. Sex, quite honestly, was at the heart of most of William's issues with spirituality. He had never much had a complete mastery over any of his carnal desires. He kept himself enough at bay to not do anything horrific, at least now, but that did not mean he had not done previously. "There are many contradictions in the world which make it difficult, I suppose. I cannot cast the stone at him when I am far from without sin in that area, and it is probably insufferably arrogant and unfair of me to say I am different because I am not destined for the cloth or that what I have done, I have done mostly because it was my duty. At his age, it was my responsibility in the young duke of Valois' household to encourage the heir presumptive in his sexual exploits and education and to find him willing bedfellows...and to counsel him on such things. I could lie and say I did not enjoy it, but I did. I was groomed for that role, and I still find it slightly disturbing that I was basically told to sacrifice my soul for the future of the France so that he would be more likely to have heirs. And that is the way of the world in which we're asked to follow God..." It was a contradiction. Much of the world was a contradiction. William was merely happy that he was now married and that he was lucky enough to have chosen his own wife, that he actually loved. He let talk of the Borgia family go. They were synonymous with the evils and abuses of the papacy but had been good politicians and rulers. If Alexander had been Holy Roman Emperor instead of Holy Father, there would have been little bad to comment on. That papacy had been good for his family. In truth their current Holy Father would also be good for his family were it not for the threat of the Spanish. Giovanni d'Medici was a gentle, loving man for the most part, who preferred mind and peace to blood and war. A true priest. At least in comparison to many of the rest in recent times. William had exchanged letters with him after Queen Francesca's death. One day perhaps the climate of the world would be such that the differences between the Spanish, French, and Italians could be settled peaceably in that area of the world, but for now Italy was a war-zone torn apart by dynastic disputes between some of the most powerful families of the continent. "He was...I have been very fortunate in that way to have found such men here and there...and in Italy," he replied simply, the compliment evident. William would put FitzJames in the same category as a man who nearly became pope previously to Della Rovere and the man who was currently their Holy Father. To William nothing was ever much about position but about things more intangible. There was a minority of the nobility of the church that William would trust to keep any of their holy vows or who cared anything about God in their hearts. Perhaps it was because d'Amboise had counselled him just as the man across from him still did...as for his affinity to their current Holy Father, well, the man had nearly killed him with kindness and stuffed him with sweetmeats to bribe him to escort Francesca everywhere when she was a mere button of a girl that wanted to sit on his shoulders through the streets of Rome. She would jump up and down with her little fists telling her father to tell Guillaume to take her to the Palazzo Apostolico to see the youngest Borgia bastard daughter so she could play. The man was but a young cardinal then, who in retrospect could have been plotting to get his daughter betrothed to the young heir of Naples, but as pope the man had found her a far higher and greater match. William still lamented her death in childbirth, perhaps more than His Majesty. He took in a sudden deep breath and came out of his thoughts. "My apologies," he said, for his internal reverie. "I do my best to live with that faith, but I cannot help but wonder when each time I am asked to shoulder something progressively more difficult...when will be the time that I break. More pain, more fear, and less surety that I even understand what I am being asked to do. In that state, faced with two choices each of which you can argue are the proper path of what God must will, one must be the wrong one. When I am spat out the other side, I am left never sure if what I chose and the path I took was the right one. In the end, I hope intention matters more because those are almost always good." The story of Abraham itself scared William and confused him more than helped him. How was Abraham to know if it was a test to see if he would kill and commit a mortal sin or if it was a test of his obedience and self-sacrifice? Perhaps that frightened him because he had killed his own uncle in the war, and God surely had not stopped him...and that was the second and third time he should have died and got Last Rites. He had a very bad feeling that sin of murdering, of his own blood, was NOT what he had been asked to do. He wished God sent clearer messages. He had no visions or dreams. Those, perhaps, would be useful. *Come my little lamb...time for studies and the glory of God. |
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| Richard FitzJames | Dec 27 2011, 02:54 AM Post #8 |
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Bishop of London
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”I am truly sorry for taking such liberties my Lord, but if I am not too blunt I would say that we are close enough to call each other by our Christian names, don’t you think William? So please call me Richard” said the older man with a careful and friendly tone, he did not want to step on any toes, it had been a while since they last saw each other and so things might have changed, one could never know. In truth Richard knew not very much about the circumstances surrounding Francis’ rearing, but he suspected that something had gone wrong since Francis was the way he was. Of course it was wrong to blame it all on how a person was raised, there were many other factors that played a part in the making of an individual. Richard chuckled lightly at Williams remark about having experienced many troubled youths “Oh I would not say so, there have been a few, but no more than I have managed to handle” he said and smiled a smile midway between being sly and friendly. As William mentioned Thomas, it was like another person had appeared in the room, Richard had of course noticed Thomas but somewhere in his mind it seemed that he had not counted him as an individual in some strange way. It must have been the wine and all the food, though Richard to himself as he turned his head lightly to look upon the boy, giving him a little polite smile as he bowed his head lightly as a greeting. Richard listened intensely as William told him about Francis’ younger years, he had surely heard all this before, but somehow he had forgotten it, or pieces of it anyway. Anyway Richard was not surprised; the clergy was unfortunately not famous for its continence, rather the opposite. But he did not complain, if his late father had been more devoted to continence Richard would not sit here now. To Richard sexual misconduct was not a very grave sin, at least most of it was not, he had during his life learnt that sexuality was perhaps the strongest human instinct. Despite the many ordinances and interdictions on the matter everyone, except a very little group, seemed to do quite as they wished. Richard himself had felt the power of this instinct and he understood what it meant to have it within one’s mind and body, and so as a human being he understood it was not easy to restrain oneself to the narrow rulings of the church on that particular matter. “You must not be too hard on yourself my dear boy, we have all been young and ignorant. There were many… unfortunate circumstances surrounding your brother’s yearly years, but you should not burden yourself too much with that, every human being has her own free will, so God has said, and so she can do as she wishes, thus making her responsible for her own actions. You yourself had a, to say the least, rough upbringing, and yet you sit here no more a sinner than the rest of us and yet you would have good cause to drink yourself loaded and lie with whores whole day long” said Richard who felt that he had almost begun to preach, so he calmed himself and sat straight in his chair and spoke again this time with calmer and friendlier voice “My point being that even though one may have been wounded severely during one’s years, the wounds can be overcome, they need not define who you are and what you will be, it is not they who decide your destiny, it is you. You are living proof of this my dear William” “Yes indeed frightening that a man of the cloth would not care about such a thing. I wish that our holy church stopped being so hypocritical, they condemn utterly sexual acts which are not done according to their saying but yet they themselves do not follow what they have just told others” Richard said with clear discontent in his voice, indeed this was a great problem of the church, he had wished that the church either loosened up their view on sexual intercourse or stopped doing what they themselves condemned. Richard being the one that had heard William’s confessions, not all of them of course, but enough to know that the topic of sexual intercourse was the root to most William’s “sins”. Again this was nothing Richard saw as a very grave sin, it could surely not be since most of the high members of the clergy were devoted to it themselves, thought Richard ironically. Although sexual violence was an entirely different affair, and in the eyes of Richard it was condemnable. But now William was married, of course that gave no guaranties but at least he did not have to worry too much about sinning as far as sexual intercourse went. He listened to William talking about his time at the French court, working as some sort of a whoremonger for the crown-prince François. It was after all the FRENCH court, which was famous for its loose morale concerning sexual matters, but still Richard felt uneasy as he heard what William had been tasked to do, it was nothing more than a breeding of animals it seemed, like a stallion was sent around in the stable impregnating the mares. Such a custom Richard found steep indeed, but different social classes had their different ways of doing things, he only thanked the heavenly lord he was a man of the cloth. “We do what we are told dear William, and a boy of nineteen can hardly be blamed if he enjoyed such a task. You know that God are all-seeing my dear boy, and so he knows the circumstances, you could hardly have refused could you? In any case God is forgiving and merciful, and he knows what you have done and why” Richard said, again to comfort William who seemed to blame himself all too much for a whole lot of things that had happened throughout the years. As William spoke of his past in Italy surrounded by the highest of people it dawned for Richard, how profoundly different he and William were, that he and the young gentleman he was sitting opposite to, lived in two different worlds. William was used to having cardinals, popes, dukes and princes around him, he had travelled most of the world if seemed, or at least to the parts that counted. Richard had travelled very little, France a few times, but it was nothing in the shadow of what William had done. Richard lived in England, in the world of England, he knew and cared little of the world outside since he figured he would probably never reach it. How was he to understand any of the things William said? How was he to have an opinion? He swallowed hardly, still to the outer world calm and friendly, but inside almost panic-struck and stunned. At William’s compliment Richard pulled himself together and smiled graciously towards the young man “You seem to put me in a higher place than I deserve my dear William” he said with modesty, which in one way was faked but in another way a sincere expression of his inner being. A quiet pause followed as Richard noticed that young William had slipped into his own mind, and he could no nothing but smile at the sight, it was so typical the William he knew. Richard was not offended at all by the silence, it was rather a welcome disruption to just contemplate the current situation, as Richard took a quick glance around the magnificent room in which they dwelled. “Don’t mention it dear boy” said Richard with a warm smile but then turned serious as they continued speaking about spiritual matters. “I cannot answer for God, I can only try to understand his will as the simple human I am. It is natural sometimes to be crossed with God, you wonder why he tests you and sends so many obstacles in your path. I dare not answer why, we can only guess. How to separate the right way from the wrong one; who knows what is right and wrong, I dare say even the pope will from time to time contemplate over this. We can only do what we believe is right in the eyes of God, we can only deliver ourselves into his merciful hands. He is with us always, from the cradle to the grave, he sums what we do, but also how we do it and why we do it. If you my dear William, have had a clear heart and good intentions for your deeds he will surely know” said Richard with his calm and methodical voice, giving the young man a little smile, like an uncle to a loved nephew. |
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| William Spencer | Dec 27 2011, 10:10 AM Post #9 |
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Lord Winchester (courtesy)
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William smiled a small smile, his eyes flickering to Thomas, who always did a rather grand job of being invisible. When in the service of someone else, you were almost always supposed to be invisible, not being noticed as you refilled wine or stoked the fire or screened messages and visitors. Sir John's eldest son was his valet, his closest personal servant, not unlike William had been to his uncle de Guise. William himself had learned more being 'invisible' than he had from his tutors. Budding young courtiers at the beginning of their careers best made connections by serving the highest ranking family or family friend that their fathers, uncles, or grandfathers could find. William felt a particular responsibility for Thomas for a lot of reasons, not least because he'd inherited godfathership of the boy when William's own father had been killed, and because without Thomas, William did not think he ever would have survived the war with France. He listened to the man comfort him that Francis would find his way, and he readily hoped so. There was little more to do than that. As to William's upbringing being rough, he chuckled and shook his head. "A boy being mistreated by only one person hardly constitutes rough, my friend, at least to me. I was miserable, but misery was not master of me, because I had been given a strength of character from my father before he died and from my uncles and grandfather in France. Many other boys have been shipped off to serve another and met with the self-same thing or worse. I had my honoured father's brothers here to help me and to make sure I was not often left with my grandfather. He could treat me like dirt and that I was unworthy of him, that hurt worse than hitting my lame shoulder as an easy target, but I knew who I was, and I would not be made to feel ashamed." He looked at the fire and pursed his lips. "I was obedient to him as best I could be and before he died I forgave him. I did my duty. I have no regrets about it and my vengeance is being a greater man than him." William had a certain darkness in his voice as he said that. He did deal with a certain indignant arrogance even still at the way his grandfather had treated him: worse than the peasant servants. Sure he had accommodations, clothing, and food according to his station, but his grandfather did nothing but order him around like he was born in a barn and abuse him. He tried very hard to banish the indignant arrogance, like he did with most of his base feelings, the ones that pulled slowly toward cardinal vices and mortal sin. It was always there. He bore hate for some people, and he had a hard time banishing that. "Well nobody is without sin, even those among us with the power to absolve sins, and God can forgive him just as easily as another man. It does set a bad precedent though. Enough talk of my brother, though; hopefully his past of too often being spared the rod as a child has not spoiled him forever." William chuckled. As he got older, he wished that Francis had the benefit of their father for his younger years as William had. To this moment, he very poignantly remembered the first time he had ever received a proper whipping with the verge. He had been four and refused his tutor and been obstinate all day, the man had threatened to give him a smack on the cheek or a spanking, and he had retorted that it wouldn't make him any less sleepy. Monsieur Bude complained to his father, and his father told him that he would not have a lazy, disobedient, and recalcitrant son and that he would be an unloving father if he did not see it corrected. Ten cracks with that bound hazel-twigged verge on his four year old backside had created a very diligent son for some while. "Perhaps in the eyes of some, I have, but I speak of the fortunes in my life as I see them. I feel you have done equivalently as them for me. I have resided in three countries for any length of time. You as well as any other know the importance of my faith to me. At the least, I was rarely without the help that I needed spiritually. The rest I could endure." And he had endured. The man's words had that deep, calming quality about them. They always assuaged the pain that was deep inside of him. The pain of his shoulder he had long ago grown used to so that he barely noticed the sharp ache he lived with all his life. His heart had other pains that were far worse. Some he had voiced before, others he had not. In comparison to most times, though, William was very happy. It was one of those times of calm that seemed so rare to him. He almost feared that it could not last. "I try to be a good, selfless sort of a man; sometimes I am more successful than others, and I shall leave it at that," he added with a chuckle. "And what of you, my friend? Surely you must have burdens of a non-spiritual nature since I am hardly qualified for the other? Or ambitions and desires?" He smiled slyly. "I perhaps should have previously inquired, but...I was a youth when we met, barely a man, and could barely help myself...you will forgive me, I hope, that I have long been out of that position and didn't have the presence of mind to mention that I would wish to repay your kindness. Indeed, such matters are of prime importance--patronage, alliances, friendships, they are not without consequence--but did not strike my mind before now as you are much my elder. I can offer perhaps as much aide in worldly affairs for you as you do for me in my spiritual ones, my lord." It was likely he would go back and forth between more informal and formal ways of address. Habits were very hard for him to break, and William was known for being excessively gracious, with continental manners and deportment. The English were different, with their cut-off island culture. |
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| Richard FitzJames | Dec 27 2011, 01:49 PM Post #10 |
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Bishop of London
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Richard did realise that his words of comfort and reassuring was quite ridiculous, at least they must sound so in William’s ears. The young man was a very clever one, and of the contemplating sort, so most likely he knew or had figured out all that which Richard had said to comfort him. But in his own experience it felt better to hear your own words from another tongue, it was if you were reassured that it was not only you alone in this world, not only you feeling the darkness of life creep up at you at night. So Richard did his best to act as support and a person with whom one could exchange thoughts. By now William was not the confused boy he once were, he was no a grown young man who was more than capable of finding his own path in life, and yet support would sometimes be needed as dark clouds sometimes covered even the clearest of skies. “My dear Lord Wilmington, now I do think you are being understating. Just because there are a few who might have had a worse experience it does not give cause to minimalizing your own troubled upbringing. I can only imagine what you have been through even though I have heard it myself, and yet it seems to me that at times your childhood were the Hell upon earth. Thank the heavenly lord for your uncles, I say indeed” Richard said with a grave face “You are truly wise my dear boy, for you have dismissed the way of hate in favour of that of forgiveness. As the Lord our saviour Jesus Christ said ‘If someone strikes you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also’. You grandfather, Requiescat in pace, was not a kind man, but you who have such discernment and such good intentions forgave him. This alone proves my dear William, that you are at heart a true Christian, and it pleases me to see you as such” said Richard with a warm smile. “True words my Lord Wilmington, no one is without sin, and yet I imagine heaven exists, and if heaven exists there must be a reason, the reason being welcoming those who have been at heart and mind true Christians. If sins were unforgivable no one would come to heaven, but that is not the case, so as you say there is still much hope. Oh the rod… I sometimes wonder if it breaths the good or the bad qualities into a child… never mind that now, there is all the hope in the world for dear Francis, at least if he is anything like his brother” Richard hinted and smiled warmly at the young nobleman. He really felt in a good mood this particular evening, thus making him very loving and warm, which publicly most probably would not be the two words that people would use when describing him. It must have been the good food, and of course the lovely surroundings, but perhaps foremost, good company. Richard chuckled at his comment and then turned more serious as William begun to speak of Richard’s own intentions and ambitions. His inner being moved uneasy, the topic was a hard one to discuss, at least for a cleric like himself who were supposed to be God’s voice on earth and do and live according to his words. And yet Richard knew perfectly well he did not at all times. He opened his mouth and spoke softly, like he was walking on a bridge that could collapse any minute. “I am of course imperfect, as are all humans” he started off with a modest and humble smile “Oh my dear Lord do not worry yourself with that, friendship should be based on a condition-less, mutual interaction. You have nothing to apologise for” he assured William, and yet it was not entirely true, of course he wanted some benefits from his friendship, who would not? But thinking that way made him feel disgusted by himself, before this situation he was puzzled emotionally. “Oh I… I… well I have to admit my weaknesses for I am a simple sinner just as everyone else , I am ambitious and sometimes greedy and it is not the place for a man of the cloth to be” he said, surprised by his own truthfulness, but he felt at ease finally letting those words leave his tongue. “And since lying is a sin I shall say the truth and admit that I would be glad to receive your assistance in temporal matters” he admitted quite shameful and with his eyes directed away from William’s, he could not look into them as he was afraid he might die of shame. “You must think me a fraud of a bishop and a man of our holy church… I would not blame you” he said quietly, still rather shameful. “As for the so called help you have received from me, I find you far too kind when you say that I have helped you in any way, I am sure you would have helped yourself equally as good if not better without me. So my Lord do not feel that you owe me anything, for I am not worth it” he said and dared to look up, into the deep blue eyes of the young man sitting opposite to him, his own hazel eyes, miserable, filled with shame. And so it was, the final hour of the Bishop of London, Richard thought to himself, but yet there were another feeling than shame that also dwelled within him, the feeling of relief. |
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| William Spencer | Dec 31 2011, 12:44 PM Post #11 |
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Lord Winchester (courtesy)
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William smiled softly at the man. He had only ever really known FitzJames in this way, but he knew the man was more than just a bishop, more than kindnesses and God's word. Interestingly, he did not much realize that he was likely in the minority of people who thought about the man's grace and kindness first and the rest second. The statement made him take in a deep breath through his nose and wonder if he was really particularly resilient. What his mind kept coming back to was not what the late Wilmington had done to him, but what he had learned by those who had supported William, doing the best they could, and just knowing it was the way of the world. All of his family here and his cousins and distant cousins, he had grown rather close with them without having ever known them before age thirteen. That all begot him what he had, and what he had--even here in England--was incredibly fortunate for a boy who had not been born the eldest son of an eldest son, or eldest daughter. Without his grandfather Wilmington in that equation, what would he give up? To think at it that way, he was happy for his sufferings. He had not been happy when they were happening, but he was happy now. He hated his grandfather, but he did not necessarily feel it had been Hell. "Indeed I feel I disagree, wholeheartedly even, and might rather ponder if it is hyperbole. In all of my life, if I can just point to that one person and say 'I was wronged', then my childhood wasn't even so very rough, nor the rest of my life. The rewards, my friend, are more than commensurate to the sufferings. When I think about those years, my thoughts do not go to him hardly at all, so it does not remember the pain, not anymore. Yet without him, I would not sit here. Everything that suffering begot has left me very blessed. I have done my best to follow God's will, and here I sit. I would bear it all again merely for my beautiful wife and nearly no man would say that about his wife. Without my grandfather's mistreatment, I would not have spent so much time with our distant cousins--and allies--in Devon, I would not have been like a brother to Henry Courtenay, and he may not have been so eager to place his sister and I together. I look at my life, and I say in retrospect 'I see God's hand here'. Do you know it so happens that the Courtenay family originates from France? The town of Courtenay and her distant cousins live within the Duchy de Nemours. My French grandfather's lands. They are old friends and allies of my French family. That would be a rather heavy coincidence..." There was a clear marriage of events in his life to William. He questioned only at the darkest times, and when all was well, he was content in knowing the benefit outweighed the cost. If that was particularly resilient or strong of him, he showed no indication of realizing that. His life was not particularly remarkable. He was happy to transition to talking about the man opposite him. William realized he knew very little personally about a man that knew more about him than most simply from having heard his confession over a long number of years. It would be imprudent of him not to know more about the people he called his friends who he surrounded himself with. He might not be a typical courtier, but that did not mean that he was ignorant of what made a good courtier. William wished to have strong and powerful and good allies. The circle of those whom he depended upon was quite small and most connected to him by blood or generations of familial friendship. It was not a place he allowed anybody, simply because despite his humility, he was well aware of who he was and what he had been born to through the working of God's hand. He was not a courtier looking to rise up in His Majesty's esteem, to become Lord Chancellor and partially run a kingdom by proxy...No, that was not on William's agenda in the least. He was not in that sphere despite most of these English nobles not thinking him worthy to sit among them as a peer. In the scheme of continental and worldly matters outside of this island, it was in fact those peers who were not worthy to sit among him. William was here to form bonds of friendship and family with powerful men, His Majesty included. William, in truth, cared little for Earls of this and that. What mattered to him was blood and who could have some form of a voice in a European forum, not simply in the court of one king. He did not enter into all of his relationships and dealings thinking about that, but he was always filtering things through that idea in the back of his mind. Italy was somewhat the key to peace in Europe. If the French, Spanish, and Italians could cease squabbles there, there could be peace among everyone and the English. He thought about that all the time. Bishops were not just useful for being friendly and hearing confession, but William was well-aware that the right bishop in the right place could easily gain--or be bought--a cardinal's hat. William was already in Wolsey's good graces, even though he rather thought of it as Wolsey being in his own good graces, so it would not hurt any to begin work to add another red-clad voice in Rome for a man whose stolen kingdom was Naples. He was already also friendly with Bishop Fisher through Sir Thomas More and Monsieur Bude. 3 English votes and some French votes would give him an amazing power somewhere down the road to get a peaceable ending to Naples, without the constant warring that had been useless and fruitless for over thirty years. He could work toward putting all the pieces together without being un-Christian in doing so and his ultimate intentions were not un-Christian either. He had, after all, be most selfless in his vow to the Dowager Princess, Catherine of Aragon, not to use his very powerful position and voice to have her expelled from the Kingdom in the wake of Ferdinand's betrayal. It would have been in his interests to do so, because a voice of Spain was a voice that could be against all of his French and Italian interests. Instead, he had promised he would not move against her and would speak only the truth if His Majesty asked him about it--that he did not feel her a spy or a threat. He had done a service for her, and all he had asked for in return was her aide in the future if ever there was an opportunity where she could help him resolve their inter-familial feud over Naples in peace. He made powerful friends the proper way, as his father taught him: wait until your moment to speak and act and do not hesitate to do what you need to do when that moment comes. In other words, do not force your hand in your dealings. Wait for someone to need your hand and make them beholden to you in good faith. Thus, understanding that he himself was both a man of faith but also a man with 'ambitions', he was not surprised to hear Bishop FitzJames admit to the self-same thing. He was surprised to hear it so candidly. Yet, he was not surprised. The man did have noble qualities. "It is hardly shameful to be a man who admits to his own humanity and shortcomings," William said. "I think no differently of you unless it is to think more highly of you for not maintaining a perfect and yet unrealistic pedestal of religiosity with which to stand on above us." He smiled even though the man was not looking at him. "It is only the Holy Father who is given the right of infallibility. I think it is...wrong...to take on those airs and further distance people from the church by making them shame in it's 'perfection'." He took a sip of his wine. "Thomas, come, I will need you to write for me." He did not bother to look to see if he was being obeyed, for he knew that he was. Turning his attention back to FitzJames, he said, "I fear you will now forever look at me differently, so now we are thus bared and transparent to each other for the baseness of our own bondage to worldly affairs." He shrugged and swallowed, feeling a bit of that same shame. "I prefer to see no harm in helping others to...well...hopefully do God's work. There are many in positions like yours and higher who are arguably doing the opposite." |
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| Richard FitzJames | Jan 1 2012, 05:22 AM Post #12 |
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Bishop of London
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Richard was of course glad to hear that William did not in retrospect find his youth to have been a Hell on earth, and it seemed that the now young man had in some sense gotten over the horrors of the past. The past was a part of the present in the sense that who you were in the present was a result of events that had occurred in the past. That seemed to be clear to William and so Richard would not speak on the subject no more, after all what use was there in trying to convince William that his childhood had been rough when he himself did not see it that way. They all saw things out of different lights, but since it was William’s childhood Richard did not consider himself to have the mandate picking at it. He only said “God works in mysterious ways” as an answer to William’s amplification of his childhood and how things had turned out for the best despite all the pain and strife. Richard still felt awkward, in the relationship between Richard and William, it had always been William that had been the center of attention, not at all to Richard’s discontent, quite the contrary, it had suited him fine. But now it seemed as the dormant human within William had waken and took an interest in Richard. It was a situation that Richard was not very used to find himself in, he often helped others, hearing their confession and such, but very seldom anyone turned the attention towards his person. Once again William seemed to sink into contemplation, which gave Richard the time to do the same. Perhaps now William would not feel so attached to him, if he ever felt so, knowing Richard was not so much better than William himself when it came to sin. He could hardly imagine that he had any value as an ally to William, he was the forgotten and rather poor bishop of London, which on the other hand was the third most important see in England, but still England was an isle-nation, quite isolated, what possible benefit could William draw from him? The young man hardly seemed to need spiritual guidance anymore, and so speaking plainly, the young man would not need him anymore. William was to be a king in everything but the title, he would rule over vast lands, he would be of great influence out on the continent. He needed not be ambitious as Richard, for in time he would have more power than most men in the whole world, he could count himself among Kings and Emperors. Richard on the other hand had little contacts with the world outside England, he had no good friends within the Curia in Rome, he would most likely never receive a red hat as Wolsey had done. No to Richard his chance to rise in power lied within England, and the key was the King and those close to him. William would within a few years leave English soil never to return, and surely he would forget about the old bishop of London. At least Richard did not expect William to remember him when he had inherited his grandfather’s position, at that time the title ‘Earl of Wilmington’ would mean little, it would be a drop of water in the vast ocean. William talked about Rome, France, Naples as if they were his beloved house he had always lived in, and of the pope and cardinals as if they were his childhood friends, so how could he, Richard FitzJames possible be of any significance in the eyes of such a distinguished man? But he had to do what he could while there was still time, he had to enjoy William’s company and all the potential benefits it might give. Just like a sunny spring day, one had to bask in the sun for as long as one could for soon clouds would cover the skies and one could not be sure when they would clear away. “Perhaps not my Lord, but yet I feel as if I have tricked you, deceived you to think I was something I am not. But I am glad to note that you are such an intelligent young man that you have seen through my disguise” he said with a little smile, but still rather shameful “I do agree my dear Lord Wilmington, the church is an imperfect as those who represent it, only God knows what perfection is” he said and nodded slowly in agreement, he knew it was true, he knew he was imperfect, he too was a sinner, but he rarely wanted to admit that to himself, and he beat himself within whenever he admitted to being one, but it was a process just as life was a process, and he could not do anything about how he was or how he felt. He looked into William’s eyes once more this time without so much shame, as if now they were equals, they knew each other’s sins, they had finally torn down the last wall. “My dear William, nothing has changed in my eyes for you are still the William I have known for so long. If anyone should look upon another in a different way that one should surely be you looking upon me” he assured the younger man opposite to him and he fingered his golden cross that hung from his neck onto his chest. “My dear boy, I know not if I do the will of God, I do only as I feel in my heart that He would have me do, and it will come onto him to judge me and my work in his name when my days are at an end” he said humbly, now squeezing the golden cross lightly. Could he really accept anything given by William? Would that not be blasphemous? He was conflicted over this, he knew of his short-comings all too well, so should he not then fight them? Or was it God’s will for him to be ambitious? How could he know, he only knew he would accept help in a most humble way. “…But I thank you My Lord for being so kind to me, and I thank the heavenly Lord for sending me someone like you to be close to my heart. I… I will never forget you dear William or your deeds in my favor” he said humbly with a thankful little smile upon his lips. |
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| William Spencer | Jan 1 2012, 11:51 AM Post #13 |
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Lord Winchester (courtesy)
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William chuckled and shook his head. He had known many priests in high positions and not many had a modicum of decency. William had not been deceived, at least he hardly felt so. He had never surmised the older man to be saintly, but he had never surmised the man to be harbouring evils either, or he might have wondered if FitzJames had been kind to him when he was a young lordling, knowing that one day quite soon he would be Wilmington. That would not be a poor modus operandi for a scheming priest, picking up lordly allies when they were searching and trusting youths. No, William felt that the bishop had been honestly kind to him, and perhaps that was because they had met when the man had first taken the see of London. "Then we shall simply look at each other the same, my friend," he replied. "Although I fear you will see in me more scheming that you would like...it is a necessity of survival, even for a man of faith, moreso even; it is only in out-reasoning your enemies that you can out-play them without unnecessary carnage. Or else we are all left here sheep among the wolves, many years at many courts has shown me that. The metaphor goes quite further, because even those sheep who survive, they are raped of their coats continually and ultimately sacrificed for the greater good of others' survival, like the sustenance of our own blood and flesh for those who would keep us and suck us dry and then devour us. That is the court of any king or sovereign lord. One must always move carefully even when doing nothing." What one needed to do when trying to accomplish something was an amazing feat of skill. It was why William always acted very carefully, but he had been raised in the house of a father who was an ambassador for his first seven years, and his father had always lauded his second son for his breathtaking memory. What he was not expecting in any way was that the man across from him thanked God for William's presence. How very backward to the young earl! What had he ever done but made some scores of confessions over seven years until this day? Surely his conversation outside of that was not that good. After all, around a man of the cloth, he could hardly make the lewd and bawdy jokes he was famous for or his impromptu treatises in most eloquent French prose lauding the female form. No, those rather central characteristics of his courtier persona were kept far away from people like the bishops he knew and Sir Thomas More. He must be quite dull other than that to people who were so learned! "You have done far more for me than I can ever do, but it is now inconsequential if we are to both feel indebted to each other, that is the proper way to start this particular sort of 'friendship'. I suspect I will need you to continually serve my spiritual affairs and as my service to your temporal affairs could take some long time, well, we can both feel safe in the equity of the relationship." Thomas came back with parchment on top of a large book and an ink and quill perched on top of it. He sat on the floor in front of William so that William could see over his shoulder; he knew after two years how William preferred things. "Write on there the names of the Curia and where they are from and what family they represent, or as much as you know," he instructed the youth, and Thomas started writing. "I shall be blunt, my friend. To be useful to His Majesty, your use must rise above England. To gain a name from an island as a cleric..." He took in a deep breath and let it out, "...is either politically quite dangerous or very expensive, because on some level it must be bought." And he'd just blasphemed several times barely saying anything. "What one would have to promise and what one would have to pay is more than most men can conceive. Gaining influence here would be difficult, because if you become a threat to his ambitions, Wolsey will surely seek to block you. That may not be a smart avenue." How best to go about things was really at the heart of the matter. "Those that I know in Italy either go back to playing with their bastards when my uncle was Viceroy of Naples, which is hardly binding, to those who sided with my great-great grandfather King Louis of Naples, which was over sixty years ago. Since then most have proven to side with whomever pays more or threatens their territories less which is to say fickle at best. There are some intermarriages and some transfer of property, but it will not be simple." |
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| Richard FitzJames | Jan 2 2012, 02:08 AM Post #14 |
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Bishop of London
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William did right in contemplating the circumstances surrounding their first meeting, at least after what Richard now had confessed. However Richard had acted out of compassion and out of the kindness of his heart, for there was actually such a thing within Richard. Of course one could go further and ask if Richard did not sustain their relationship only to gain favours in the future, and that would also be a legitimate question. Richard would lie if he said that he did not think that his friendly relationship with William would have potential benefits in the future, but it was not that which drove him to interact with the boy, it was concern for his wellbeing. Richard had not, this far, chosen his friends based upon their position. He would admit that some “friends” where more business partners than friends, and he saw their value as allies perhaps more than as friends. At least he had not allied himself with anyone he loathed just for the political advantage that “friendship” might bring, and that was perhaps more than one could say about most people at court. Richard could with good conscience think of his friendship with the Lord opposite to him, but still somehow he felt guilty of using the younger man, so to say the least he was conflicted. “I am glad to hear that my friend” he said with a thankful smile “Oh do not worry my Lord, I may not be used to court, but what little I have seen showed me a ruthless world, where every ship might at any time be struck by a storm. So I will not blame you, nor will I think you sinful” he replied in an assuring manner, although he had to confess he did know little of the politics at court, and so the metaphor William told him was to him quite confusing, yet he thought himself understand the core of the tale. He had heard the tales of the court and how cruel and unforgiving it was, but how could he understand such a thing without even having experienced it himself? Yes he had been de facto banned from court, when the Bishop Foxe could dictate things after his will, but he had lost his power eventually and then Richard could once again enter the stage, only as an unnoticeable figurant, but still, better than to eternally walk in the shades. It was again very human of him, until you yourself have burnt your hand on the flames you can’t possible imagine how it feels. He was truly grateful that he had met William seven years ago and that he had had the chance to get to know him and support him during his path from boy to man. Richard enjoyed his company, he was always kind and spoke wisely and that was what one could wish for. Just seeing how William had developed, not into something mediocre but into a prince of his time, a powerful and wise prince who seemed to master every subject of discussion without any effort. “I think you overestimate my service to you my Lord, you must never see yourself as in debt to me” he said “But as you say it is better we look upon each other like equals. I shall continue assisting you in spiritual matters, and you will kindly help me with my temporal matters, there were never a better solution my Lord” he said and nodded in agreement with a careful smile upon his lips. The page arrived with the necessary writing equipment, and it was not without excitement Richard wondered what would happen next. William then instructed the boy to write down the members of the Curia, Richard’s heart jumped high within him, of excitement and joy, but also anxiety in some way. “Please feel free to be my Lord” Richard answered quickly and listened intensely to what the younger man had to say, William was indeed a masterly player of the grand political game, while Richard had fought the smaller battles. Richard did not even think of the blasphemy within the words William spoke, for this way it had always been, very few cardinals were appointed based on their devotion for the Christian faith, it was more a custom to appoint family and allies to be cardinals, or as William suggested now, those who paid enough. Richard simply nodded, to show that he had understood what William had said, but he was concerned, he had little money, how were he to buy a cardinal’s hat? Surely William would not pay for that, it would be very expensive. Again it came to England, living on an isolated island was not the best position if one wished to be involved in the affairs of the continent. There had only been one English pope during the many years of papacy, and the cardinals originating from England were always bred in rich and mighty families, like William’s who had vast lands on the continent as well as in England. And if that was not enough, there was Wolsey too, and as William suggested he would not be very glad to hear more English cardinals be appointed. Richard could not say he was a friend of Wolsey, not that he did not want to, but most probably the good cardinal had not bothered contacting Richard since he probably thought him unimportant. Again Richard nodded most humbly he could still not understand that William was doing this for him, helping him with his temporal matters, he was so moved and felt so guilty that he opened his mouth “My dear William, I say this to you; If ever I shall wear a cardinal’s hat, I swear to you that your agenda shall be mine, your troubles shall be mine and your wishes shall be my command” he said clearly moved, but still with a steady voice, looking into William’s eyes while squeezing the cross that hung from around his neck. He had it clear to him that he might never be a cardinal, but still this was probably as close at it could get. “If only I were sent to the Curia as an envoy of some sort, things would be easier, than I would be within the walls of the fortress rather than standing on the other side of the moat. But I think not His excellency the cardinal Wolsey would see it fit to appoint me, for as you say he would feel threatened” Richard reasoned, in a failed attempt to help. It was perhaps better left to those who knew what they were doing. |
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| William Spencer | Jan 2 2012, 03:06 PM Post #15 |
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Lord Winchester (courtesy)
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To a certain extent William was not used to this sort of dramatic appreciation, even in France. He may have been the heir of d'Armagnac and one of the last of the Valois-Anjou, but he had never been treated this way. His blood and his connections were atypical in England, but they were not atypical on the continent. There were many princes of the blood and those were higher than him; in fact, his only right to any kingdom was only because it was one of few kingdoms which could pass through the female line. He was not an oddity in France where there were the deposed lines of many sovereign princes. Dynastic disputes were typical and ferocious, alliances were not expendable, and patronage was the only way although subterfuge helped it along. It was unlike England where peers married the gentry and those who were grandsons of kings were ranked below usurpers like Norfolk. In France, if you were the holder of a duchy, you came from a line of princes. In England, two common knights had been raised to duchies to join Norfolk who nearest relation to royalty may well have been prior to William the Conqueror. In France, the new did not depose the old; it was not the rank of your title but your family's tenure in holding it which determined precedence. There were also other dignities which ensured that no man would ever rank above a prince of the blood or an ancient princely line. In England, it was all dirty. They spat at him when it was them who were the beasts those of the continent spoke of as the English spoke of the Scots. Despite all that, William had never been approached this way in France. Perhaps he had been too young and inconsequential, with both an uncle and grandfather above him before his inheritance of power. He had just been one of King Louis' many godsons and his half-breed cousin. It seemed, now that the French had been at the English court, that the English now had gleaned a greater idea of his connections and worth. With his uncle's death at war and his grandfather's increasing age and obvious power, it seemed eyes now turned to him as the one who would wield that power next. If this was what happened in England, he imagined what would happen one day when he returned to France and then made his moves to recover Naples. He was not entirely sure he liked it, but he would need to get used to it, he supposed. "You are overly gracious, my lord. I will not ask for promises which I know your conscience might not be able to keep, because we never know what circumstances we might be confronted with," he gave the older man a cheeky sort of a smile, "Besides, I do not know how much I will be able to do. As I said, I have connections, and I have confidence and optimism, but Rome is as fickle as the rest of Italy. It is constantly torn between opposing forces. I will do my best, because God has left me to believe very little in coincidence. When there seems to be coincidence in my life, I have learned to anticipate a message there of the path I should take." William had met the man at a crossroad in his life, and later as an adult, William could use a voice in the Curia or the sacred college, and the man who had coincidentally aided him as a youth, had ambitions and a conscience. It was more than a simple coincidence. "Going to the continent as an envoy to anywhere would indeed be advantageous. Again, what you may glean from that also comes down to bribery and money. I was more specifically thinking that it is of the utmost, utmost importance that you are part of the entourage that goes to France when Princess Mary is married to the Duc de Valois. It will put you in contact with cardinals from the continent; accomplishes a similar mission without needing to go nearly as far." William grinned mischievously. He leaned forward and looked over Thomas' shoulder, pointing to the names at the top of the list. "All the Medici will go along with the Holy Father which is perhaps the greatest possible strength as he is a young man only maybe five and ten years my senior, so his tenure should be a long one. Problematic is that while he bribed me with marzipan as a child, a marzipan is not a cardinal's hat nor the key to a Kingdom." William chuckled a bit. If only things were so simple. "The Italians are worse than the English with faltering alliances. Medici's are Florentines who speak with money, and the Holy Father is not pleased at the advances of France and the advances of Spain. Thankfully, the Aragon angered not only His Majesty King Henry, but also the French, the Navarrese, and His Holiness who abhors war above everything. I do very much so mean everything as he is very much a Humanist. He will act only to protect Rome and the Holy See. Those currently in possession of Naples previously attacked Florence, so now you see why I am so well-versed with this." His future was attached to understanding the politics of all of this. He pointed to another on the list, "All affiliated with the Orsini, Sforza, and Cibo will follow suit in all likelihood." Although he had slept with one of the Sforzas... "The della Rovere usually lean toward France, as will the other French cardinals, among them Monseigneur de la Tremoille from the archbishopric in Auch in d'Armagnac and Monseigneur de Prie, cousin of Monseigneur d'Amboise. Then there is Monseigneur de Clermont-Ludeve newphew of d'Amboise and Monseigneur d'Albret, my kinsman. The others all money and maneuvering for the most part." |
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10:58 AM Jul 11