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Title: Mary Tudor, Queen of France
Author: Brown, Mary Croom
Language: English
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Copyright Status: Not copyrighted in the United States. If you live elsewhere check the laws of your country before downloading this ebook. See comments about copyright issues at end of book.

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_First Published in 1911_


Anyone who writes the life of Mary Tudor, daughter of Henry VII., must
owe a debt of gratitude to Mrs Everett Green, who first drove a wedge
through the mass of documents dealing with the subject. Since that date,
however, new evidence has come to light and fresh readings of mutilated
documents have been possible. Here and there a detail has been verified,
nothing in itself, but when fitted in suggesting a new meaning to the
whole; for this romantic history, dealing as it does with personal
detail, is a very jig-saw puzzle. The date of the princess's birth, now
at last definitely ascertained, is one of these details; the fact that
in France she was twice married to Charles Brandon is another; and, to
give a third instance, the detailed evidence shows that in the question
of the dismissal of her English train from the French Court, Mary was as
much sinner as sinned against. But after all is said, the difference
between a book written fifty years ago, and one of to-day lies not so
much in the matter newly discovered, as in the method of handling the
same documents, and in the present incorrigible habit of valuing
personality above ceremony, in this case looking for the woman in the
princess and finding her. So while fifty years ago Princess Mary "penned
many epistles," now she writes letters; then "she was advanced to
maternal honours," now her first child is born. It all means the same
thing set to differing measures. We jig along: they walked solemnly.

My thanks are due in no small measure to Miss A. M. Allen and to Mr P.
C. Allen for their careful and friendly help, and to the Librarian of
Exeter College and the officials of the Record Office for their






    EUROPEAN COMPLICATIONS                                    25


    A CAMPAIGN AND A COURTSHIP                                48


      BREAKS HER CONTRACT                                     72


    BETROTHAL TO LOUIS XII. OF FRANCE                         93


    QUEEN OF FRANCE                                          119


    THE ENGLISHMEN IN PARIS                                  139


      MARRIAGE                                               148


    CONFESSION AND PENANCE                                   173


    THE LOVERS COME HOME                                     200


    AFTERWARDS                                               219

    APPENDIX                                                 253

    INDEX                                                    277


      CHARLES BRANDON, DUKE OF SUFFOLK                    _Frontispiece_

    From the Painting by Jean de Mabuse, in the possession
      of the Earl of Yarborough

                                                             FACING PAGE

    ELIZABETH OF YORK                                                  4
    From the Painting in the National Portrait Gallery (Flemish

    HENRY VII.                                                        14
    From the Painting in the National Portrait Gallery (Flemish

    MAXIMILIAN, EMPEROR OF GERMANY                                    36

    From the Painting by Albrecht Dürer at Vienna. (_Photo, F.

    MARGARET, DUCHESS OF SAVOY                                        66
    From the Window in the Chapel of the Virgin in the Church of

    MARGARET, COUNTESS OF RICHMOND                                    74
      Painter unknown, National Portrait Gallery

    CHARLES, PRINCE OF CASTILE                                        90
      From the Painting in the Louvre (Flemish School)

    LOUIS XII.                                                       102
      Engraved by A. Berthold, from his Tomb in S. Denis

    FRANCIS I.                                                       144
      From the Painting in the Louvre (French School)

    HENRY VIII.                                                      154
      Painter unknown, National Portrait Gallery

    CARDINAL WOLSEY                                                  192
      Painter unknown, National Portrait Gallery

    MARGARET TUDOR, QUEEN OF SCOTS                                   230
      National Portrait Gallery


    L. and P. H. VII. and R. III. = Letters and Papers, Henry VII. and
                                       Richard III.

    L. and P. H. VIII.            = Calendar of Letters and Papers,
                                       Foreign and Domestic, of the
                                       Reign of Henry VIII.

    C. S. P. Venice               = Calendar of Venetian State Papers.

    C. S. P. Spain                = Calendar of Spanish State Papers.

    Calig                         = Cottonian MSS., Caligula, B.M.

    Galba.                        =     "      "    Galba,     "

    Vitell.                       =     "      "    Vitellius, "

    Vesp.                         =     "      "    Vespasian, "

    R.O.                          = Public Record Office.




To write the full life of Mary Tudor, second daughter of Henry VII., is
to attempt the impossible, for the term usually implies a consecutive
story from the gate of birth to that of death. We do know now the dates
written over both these gates, but while her early days are shrouded by
lack of information, her later years are equally indistinct. For less
than a couple of years Mary Tudor lives and moves before us, and only
this watch and vision is clear. From October 1514 to May 1516 she
reveals herself, and fortunately with greater distinctness than she
could possibly have done in a chronicle of orderly days with their
circling duties and small joys and sorrows. To most ordinary men and
women there comes one great moment in life, the third act of the play,
to which all the previous scenes have been leading, and it is during
Mary's great moment, when her nature was keyed to its highest pitch,
that we are able to see her clearest. Before it arrives and after it has
passed one desires, and desires in vain, the chronicle of those smaller
joys and sorrows, but it is not to be found, and as we cannot have the
life let us make the most of the episode.

The date of Mary's birth has at last been fixed as the 18th March 1495.
The day and the month have hitherto been a matter of uncertain
conjecture, and the year has been given as 1496 on the strength of a
privy seal of Henry VII. which runs as follows: "de Termino Paschæ anno
xi. regis nunc: Anne Skeron nutrici dominæ Mariæ ls. pro quarterio unius
anni finiti ad festum Sancti Johannis Baptistsæ ultim.; Johannæ Colyng,
Fredeswidæ Puttenham, Marjeriæ Gower, Johannæ Cace, Avisæ Skidmore et
Alicæ Bywymble cuilibet earum xxxiijs. iiijd, pro attendenciis suis
nutrici ducis Eboracencis et sororum suarum per medium annum ad finem
predictum." So that Anne Skeron had only completed three months' service
at midsummer when the other nurses and attendants had completed six. Now
the xi. year of Henry VII. lies between August 22, 1495, and August 21,
1496, so that this midsummer falls before Easter 1496, the date of the
document, for it is "ad festum Sancti Johannis Baptistæ _ultim_." Hence
the quarter's wage then due must have begun in March 1495, not in March
1496 as Mrs Green[1] and, following her, Dr Gairdner argues. That it was
1495 is supported, in a somewhat weak-kneed fashion, by the fact that in
the beginning of 1499[2] Henry refused to give his daughter in marriage
to the Duke of Milan because she was only three years old, and by her
brother's statement in his letter to Leo X. announcing the repudiation
of the Castilian marriage contract in 1514, that she was married in
December 1508 at the age of about thirteen (cum vix annum tertium
decimum attigisset).[3] Henry VII.'s love of accuracy makes his
statement that Mary was three years old and not four at the beginning of
1499 worth having, and, as Dr Gairdner says, his son had no reason to
deceive the Pope in 1514. His sister had then been safely married to an
old man, and there was no necessity to keep up a fiction about her age.
But evidence of unassailable authority is to be found in the Calendar
prefixed to Queen Elizabeth of York's Psalter in the Library of Exeter
College, Oxford, where the date of Mary's birth is given as 18th March
1495. The only question which now arises is, Did the writer who inserted
the dates for the Queen in the Calendar use the January or the March
year? But remembering the date of the privy seal already quoted, and the
fact that the new fashion of reckoning the year as beginning in January
was already in use in private documents, it is only reasonable to
conclude that the writer, whoever he may have been, had adopted the
modern calendar.

  [1] "Lives of the Princesses of England," vol. v. p. 2.

  [2] C.S.P. Venice, i. 790.

  [3] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 5319, Harl. 3462, 142. b.

The difficulty of determining the age of the princess is partly due to
the fact that when Mary was growing up and developing rapidly into a
young woman, Charles of Castile, nearly five years younger, remained a
child in appearance. The Flemish Council said she was too old for him,
and sought to break off the match, and in 1514, to answer the gibe that
Charles wanted a wife and not a mother, her age seems to have been
officially announced as sixteen, while as a matter of fact she was
nineteen. No wonder in these days of early marriages (her sister
Margaret was packed off to Scotland when she was just over fifteen, and
her father had been born before her grandmother's fourteenth birthday)
she felt as though she had _coiffé Ste Catherine_, and the fiction of
her age grew easily.

The childhood of Mary passed in obscurity; new frocks, a few doctor's
bills, a papal pardon, are the few indications of her existence. Once
only do we see her, as a child of four, in the winter of 1499, playing
in the great hall at Eltham,[4] when Lord Mountjoy brought Erasmus to
see Prince Henry there. When she emerges into clearer light, she shows
herself to be of little mental originality but of strong passions, and
it will be interesting to describe, so far as is possible, the qualities
she may have inherited from her father and her mother. Henry VIII.,
Queen Margaret of Scotland, Queen Mary of France, all had these violent
qualities which are miscalled Tudor, for they really belong to the house
of York.

  [4] Knight's "Life of Erasmus," p. 69.

  [Illustration: ELIZABETH OF YORK

Her mother, Elizabeth of York, daughter of Edward IV., had been rescued
from the arms of her uncle, Richard III., to be thrust into those of
Henry of Richmond. She was a rather short woman, inclined to embonpoint,
with deep breasts. She possessed a happy, pleasure-loving temperament,
was very charitable, deeply attached to her sisters, Katharine, Countess
of Devon, and the lady Bridget of York; religious in the outward sense
of the word. That is to say, that while she took many journeys for
pleasure in the summer, she did her pilgrimages vicariously by means of
her servants.[5] Her portrait in the National Portrait Gallery is not
that of an intellectual woman, it is, rather, a childish face with great
comeliness. She had ruddy hair and brown eyes, which she bequeathed to
none of her surviving children, who all had the pale blue eyes,
looking grey in certain lights, of their father. She was beloved by the
Londoners because she was the daughter of her father, and no doubt this
means that she had his easy manner, and possibly, like him, was "among
mean persons more familiar than his degree, dignity or majesty
required."[6] She had no influence in Court nor with her husband. All
the feminine influence there was centred in her mother-in-law, the Lady
Margaret, Countess of Richmond, with whose orderly, ceremony-loving
nature Elizabeth must ever have been secretly at feud. Henry believed
there was no woman to equal his mother, and the "King's lady mother"
regulated the whole Court in personal matters with a despotic hand.
Ceremony was to her the breath of her nostrils, and, where she was,
nothing moved but to slow and stately music. Elizabeth, on the other
hand, loved flowers and gardens, music and disguisings and picnics,[7]
and she passed on her delight in these things to her children, while she
did not "like" her position of subjection; but that there was open
revolt we cannot tell. There is a pathetic hearsay picture of her as the
comforter of her husband on the death of Prince Arthur in 1502, which
shows her gentle nature and soft, comforting manner. (Again, these were
passed on to Queen Mary and Henry VIII.) Henry was absolutely broken
down by the news, and she hid her own sorrow at the sight of his grief
till the first agony of his was passed. But when she went back to her
own room, "natural and motherly remembrance of that great loss smote her
so sorrowful to the heart, that those that were about her were fain to
send for the King to comfort her." This account the writer acknowledges
to be at second hand, but whether her reported words be the self-same
that she uttered or not, yet the fact remains that in spite of Lady
Margaret, Henry turned to his wife for comfort in his great grief.
Possibly Lady Margaret grudged the Queen her easy popularity, for she
was as beloved as Henry was disliked. "She is a very noble woman,"
writes the Spanish agent, and suggests that his master and mistress
should show her a little love.

  [5] Exchequer Accounts, T.R., Misc. Books 210. Record Office.

  [6] Hall's "Chronicle," ed. 1809, p. 341.

  [7] Exchequer Accounts, T.R., Misc. Books 210. _passim_.

Henry's picture has been drawn by Hall. "He was a man of body but leane
and spare, albeit mighty and strong therewith, of personage and stature
somewhat higher than the mean sort of men be, of a wonderful beauty and
fair complexion, of countenance merry and smiling, especially in his
communication, his eyes grey, his teeth single and hair thin, of wit in
all things quick and prompt, of a princely stomach and haute courage. In
great perils, doubtful affairs and matters of weighty importance,
supernatural and in manner divine, for such things as he went about he
did them advisedly and not without great deliberation and breathing....
Besides this, he was sober, moderate, honest, affable, courteous,
bounteous, so much abhoring pride and arrogancy that he was ever sharp
and quick to them which were noted and spotted with the crime....
Although his mother were never so wise (as she was both witty and wise),
yet her will was bridled and her doynges restrayned. And this regiment
he said he kept to thentent yt he worthely might be called a King,
whose office is to rule and not to be ruled of other."[8]

  [8] Hall's "Chronicle," ed. 1809, p. 504.

De Puebla, the Spanish ambassador, found that when he was angry Henry's
speech was full of venom, and that the words came from his mouth like
vipers and he indulged in every kind of passion. Add to this another
Spaniard's estimate of the King. In 1498 Pedro d'Ayala wrote to
Ferdinand of Aragon. Henry "is disliked, but the Queen is beloved
because she is powerless. They [the people] love the Prince as much as
themselves, because he is the grandchild of his grandfather.... The King
looks old for his years, but young for the sorrowful life he has led.
One of the reasons why he leads a good (_i.e._ sober) life is that he
has been brought up abroad. He would like to govern England in the
French fashion, but he cannot. He is subject to his Council, but has
already shaken off some and has got rid of some part of this subjection.
Those who have received the greatest favours from him are the most
discontented. He knows all that. The King has the greatest desire to
employ foreigners in his service. He cannot do so, for the envy of the
English is diabolical, and I think without equal. He likes to be much
spoken of and to be highly appreciated by the whole world. He fails in
this, because he is not a great man. Although he professes many virtues,
his love of money is too great. He spends all the time he is not in
public or in his council in writing the accounts of his expenses with
his own hand.... The King is much influenced by his mother and his
followers in affairs of personal interest and in others. The Queen, as
is generally the case, does not like it."[9] The same writer puts down
the fact that Henry was more intelligent than his courtiers to his not
being a pure Englishman.

  [9] C. S. P. Spain, p. 210.

From another source[10] Henry's impatience with unsupported accusations
is emphasized. "Ye would be ware how that ye brake to him in such
matters, for he would take it to be said of envy, ill-will and malice,"
and he would send "sharp writing again that he would have proof of this
matter." Further, the King was superstitious, and d'Ayala hints that
this is his Welsh blood: "in Wales there are many who tell fortunes." In
1499 he was warned by a priest that his life would be in great danger
for a year, and he aged in consequence twenty years in two weeks, and
grew "very devout and heard a sermon every day during Lent, and has
continued his devotions for the rest of the day."

  [10] L. and P. R. III. and H. VII., i. 231.

The whole Court was devout in the same sense, and while one Spaniard
says that "when one sees and knows the manners and the way of life of
this people in this island, we cannot deny the grave inconveniences of
the Princess's (Katharine) coming to England before she is of age ...
before she has learnt to appreciate fully our habits of life,"[11]
another complains that it is impossible in Lent to get a piece of meat
in the Court kitchen.[12] And the two complaints illustrate well what
was and what was not to be found in the Court.

  [11] C. S. P. Spain, i. 210.

  [12] _Ibid._, i. 603.

The nursery of the royal children was at Eltham, and there Mary probably
remained till she was of fit age to appear in public. During her first
two years the "Norcery" was under the care of Mistress Elizabeth
Denton,[13] of whom Henry and Mary were genuinely fond,[14] and when she
became one of the Queen's gentlewomen, her place was taken by Mistress
Anne Crowmer.[15] The children consisted of Henry, Duke of York, the
ladies Margaret and Mary, and later on of Lord Edmund, who died a baby
in 1500. Arthur, Prince of Wales, who was nine years older than Mary,
had been emancipated from women's care, and had his own household.
Babyhood in these days was not prolonged, and before Mary was two years
old she was dressed like a woman of twenty in kirtles of black silk and
velvet edged with ermine and mink, and provided with ribbons for lacing
and for girdles,[16] while next spring (8th April 1497)[17] she was
playing about in black velvet edged with tawny tinsel, or in black satin
edged with velvet and a kirtle of black damask; the gowns, poor child,
already stiff with buckram. Her smocks were made of fine linen. The
usual channel by which Mary got all her clothes was an order to the
keeper of the Great Wardrobe at the Tower minutely describing the
articles to be delivered, signed at the top by her father. The same year
(16th November 1497)[18] she was given 3 pairs of hosen, 8 pairs single
soled shoes and 4 pairs of double. In July 1499 [19] she was put into
colours, and presented with a green velvet gown edged with purple tinsel
satin, and a blue velvet gown edged with crimson velvet, both stiffened
with buckram, a kirtle of tawny satin edged with black velvet lined with
blue cloth in the upper body, and another of black satin lined with
black cloth in the upper body, 2 pairs knit hosen and linen smocks.
Sheets, blankets, carpets, stools, basins, all chamber furnishings came
from the Great Wardrobe, and were not to be had without a personal order
from the King. No doubt her grandmother ordered such clothing for her
grandchildren as she considered proper, and only once is there evidence
that Queen Elizabeth took any interest in Mary's clothes: that was when
she paid for the making of a black gown for her just after the death of
Prince Arthur.[20] What emotions may underlie that bare entry in the
Queen's private accounts we can only conjecture.

  [13] Wardrobe Accounts, Exc. K.R., Bundle 414 (8).

  [14] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 217, and other entries.

  [15] Wardrobe Accounts, Exc. T.R., Misc. Books 209.

  [16] Wardrobe Accounts, Exc. K.R., Bundle 414 (8).

  [17] _Ibid._

  [18] Wardrobe Accounts, Exc. T.R., Misc. Books 209.

  [19] _Ibid._

  [20] Exc. T.R., Misc. Books 210.

The education necessary for a young lady was to learn to sing and to
dance, to play the lute and other instruments, and to order her
discourse wisely. Very much what it was fifty years ago. Henry admired
French manners more than any other, and wanted his children to be
conversant with them. So with Mary he placed Mademoiselle Jane
Popincourt, a child of about her own age, and we may conjecture that the
large wardrobe provided in March 1498 for "a French maiden"[21] was for
her. She had almost the same clothes as the princess, and was called her
attendant, and Mary herself says they were brought up together. If
Henry's idea was that his daughter should learn to speak French in her
childhood, he was disappointed. Probably Jane learnt to speak English,
but when Mary's marriage drew near in 1512, she had to have a special
schoolmaster to coach her in the language, and this in spite of the fact
that in Henry VII.'s court French was the usual tongue. Beyond reading
and writing (spelling, alas for the record searcher, was not _taught_),
singing, dancing, and embroidering, Mary's education did not go, and we
have only to look at the portrait of her father to realize that he was
one of those men who pray, "d'une mule qui brait et d'une fille qui
parle latin, délivrez-nous, seigneur." His mother's benefactions to
learning at the universities go no way to prove that she believed in it
for women, as in fact she did not, and the result was that neither Mary
nor her elder sister attained to the intellectual poise which is so
remarkable in their descendants, Lady Jane Grey and Queen Mary Stuart.

  [21] _Ibid._,209.

So the two girls lived at Eltham, made habitable by their grandfather,
and went in and out under his device (the rose en soleil) on the
doorway,[22] and afterwards at Baynard's Castle, Westminster Palace,
Richmond, Windsor, Greenwich, wherever the Court was, going from one
place to another by river in the Queen's great barge with its white and
green awnings and 21 rowers in livery, and taking two days to get from
Greenwich to Richmond.[23] Once out of the nursery they were with their
mother's ladies, and with their aunts, the Lady Katharine Courteney,
Countess of Devon, and the Lady Bridget of York, who, after the Queen's
death, became a nun.[24] They knew Lady Katharine Gordon, the
unfortunate widow of Perkin Warbeck, whose position at Court must have
been a curious one; she was one of the Queen's ladies. Among the others
were Lady Anne Howard, Lady Elizabeth Stafford, Lady Alyanore Verney,
daughter of Sir Geoffrey Pole, whose husband, Sir Rauf, became
chamberlain to Mary as Princess of Castile, and whose daughter-in-law,
Dorothy, was one of her ladies. Dame Joan Guildford, sister of Sir
Nicholas Vaux of Calais, and protégé of the Countess of Richmond, whose
husband was controller of the household; Anne Weston, of the same
Westons as Francis, who came to so tragic an end in the Boleyn
catastrophe; Anne Browne, who went through so much misery before Charles
Brandon married her; Eleanor Jones represented Wales, beloved of Henry
and his mother; and the two Baptistes, Elizabeth and Françoise, were
French waiting-maids.[25]

  [22] Drake's "Hundred of Blackheath," p. 186.

  [23] Exc. T.R., Misc. Books 210, Book of the Household of Queen

  [24] _Ibid._

  [25] Exc. T.R., Misc. Books 210, Book of the Household of Queen

When Mary was six years old her father attained his ambition, and the
alliance with Spain, for which he had wrought so hard since 1488,
constantly handicapped by conspiracies and rebellions, was affirmed by
the marriage, in November 1501, of Katharine of Aragon and Arthur of
Wales. Mary and her sister had new gowns for the occasion. Margaret,
because she was six years older than Mary, and was about to be betrothed
to James IV. of Scotland, and had to look her best in the presence of
the Scots Commissioners, had her first gown of cloth of gold: "tawnay
cloth of gold tissue trimmed with ermine backs and furred within with
ermine wombes." She had another of purple velvet, made very long, with
tabard sleeves furred with the same, two new hoods made in the French
fashion, one of crimson and one of black velvet, two kirtles, one of
tawny, one of russet satin, two pairs of sleeves, one of crimson satin
and one of white cloth of gold of damask lined with blue sarcenet.
Margaret's joy can be easily read in the light of her later open
pleasure in fine clothes, for when in Scotland, despoiled of all by the
Duke of Albany, and too ill to move, she had the new gowns sent by her
brother brought in to her room time and again, so that she might admire
them. Mary had no cloth of gold. She had two gowns, one of russet velvet
trimmed with ermine backs and furred within with miniver, and another of
crimson velvet with tabard sleeves trimmed with the same; a kirtle of
tawny satin with a pair of green satin sleeves. The whole Court got new
clothes, and on the day of the marriage the King's henchmen in their
crimson cloaks, bordered with black satin,[26] the Duke of York's
followers in yellow and blue, with the guard in the King's own livery of
white and green, and the minstrels and "trompettes" with their
banner-hung instruments also dressed in the King's colours, the King and
the Queen and their children in cloth of gold or tawny satin and ermine,
must have made a fine sight as the procession passed along the blue
cloth laid down from the bishop's palace to the cathedral door.[27]

  [26] Wardrobe Accounts, Exc. T.R., Bundle 415 (10).

  [27] _Ibid._

But in a few months cloth of gold was exchanged for black satin, for
Arthur died in Wales on 2nd April 1502, though in November, when Mary
received her half-yearly supply of clothes, she was given a crimson
velvet kirtle, possibly in anticipation of Margaret's marriage with the
King of Scots on 25th January 1503. At the same time Elizabeth Langton,
wardrobe maid, received linen for smocks, rails (nightgowns) and night
kerchiefs for the princess and for Jane Popincourt.[28] This is the
first time _rails_ are mentioned in the list. Did small children go to
their "naked bed'? The Queen was going to have another child, and about
three weeks after Margaret's marriage she died in child-birth in the
Tower (11th February). Her French nurse[29] had not been a success after
all. She is reported to have comforted Henry on Arthur's death with the
promise of more children, saying God had given them so many "and we are
both young enough, and God is where he was." Her child was a daughter,
named Catherine, who only lived a few days.

  [28] _Ibid._

  [29] Exc. T.R., Misc. Books 210, Book of the Household of Queen

  [Illustration: HENRY VII

At once the atmosphere of the Court changed, and from now on it lived in
a bustle of match-making, for father, son and daughter were all in the
market. First there was Katharine of Aragon, whose destiny was so
uncertain. The Spanish alliance brought Henry the European position that
he coveted, and he neither wanted to risk losing it by restoring the
Princess to her parents, or to lose the chance of widening his sphere of
influence by binding Henry of York to marry her. However, the main thing
for the moment was to hold on to Spain, so in July 1503 a dispensation
for Katharine's marriage with her husband's brother was applied for. It
only arrived in Spain in November 1504, when Isabella of Castile lay on
her death-bed. It comforted the Queen, who had been horrified at Henry's
interim proposal to marry the Princess himself. The death of Isabella
(who is always called Elizabeth in England) and the question of the
succession to Castile opened wider plans to Henry's imagination.
Already, in 1500, Henry had had an interview with Philip of Burgundy in
St Peter's Church, outside Calais, and Mary's marriage with Philip's
son, Charles, Duke of Luxemburg, then four months old, had been mooted,
as well as the Duke of York's to a Flemish princess. Then, in 1505,
Henry thought of marrying Margaret of Angoulême, or her mother, Louise
of Savoy, and suggested that Mary should marry the Dauphin.[30] Henry,
in his underhand way, also said she was asked in marriage by the son of
the King of Portugal,[31] but this is doubtful. But the King in 1506
finally concentrated his ambitions on Flanders and Castile, and in
1506 fortune came to him from the sea. Philip of Burgundy and his wife
Joanna, now King and Queen of Castile, were on their way to take
possession of their new kingdom to Ferdinand of Aragon's despite, when
they were storm-driven into Weymouth harbour. Hall says that Philip had
been so battered about and seasick that he insisted on landing, though
his councillors warned him that if he once put his foot on shore,
courtesy and perhaps force would demand a longer visit. And so it turned
out, for Henry sent him a cordial invitation to visit him at Windsor,
and thither went Philip, followed later by Joanna, who showed no haste
to meet her sister Katharine. This is the occasion on which we see the
Princess Mary dancing and playing the lute before Philip in the King's
dining-room at Windsor. "And when the King heard that the King of
Castile was coming [from his appartments in the Castle] he went to the
door of the great chamber and there received him.... And so both
together went through that chamber, the King's dining chamber, and from
thence to an inner chamber where was my lady Princess and my lady Mary,
the King's daughter, and divers other ladies. And after the King of
Castile had kissed them and communed with them, and communed a while
with the King and ladies all, they came into the King's dining chamber,
where danced my lady Princess and a Spanish lady with her in Spanish
array, and after she had danced two or three dances she left; and then
danced my lady Mary and an English lady with her: and ever and anon the
lady Princess desired the King of Castile to dance, which, after he had
excused himself once or twice, answered that he was a mariner; 'but
yet,' said he, 'you would cause me to dance,' and so he danced not, but
communed still with the King. And after that my lady Mary had danced two
or three dances, she went and sat by my lady Princess on the end of the
carpet which was under the cloth of estate and near where the King and
the King of Castile stood. And then danced one of the strange lords and
a lady of England. That done, my Lady Mary played on the lute, and after
upon the claregulls, who played very well, and she was of all folks
there greatly praised that in her youth in everything she behaved
herself so very well."[32]

  [30] L. and P. R. III. and H. VII., ii. 147.

  [31] _Ibid._

  [32] Vesp. C., xii. 239. b., quoted in Green's "Lives of the
  Princesses of England," v. 4.

The upshot of this visit was a contract of marriage between Mary and
Charles, and between Henry VII. and Philip's sister, the Duchess of
Savoy, not long a widow for the second time, provided the lady
consented. The lady would not consent, and Jehan le Sauvage, President
of Flanders, wrote to Maximilian, her father, the King of the Romans,
that though he had laboured daily with her for a full month, she still
decidedly refused.[33] Again and again Maximilian, in need of money and
help against the Duke of Gueldres, pressed his daughter to consent, if
only to amuse the King of England with promises, but she always answered
"that although an obedient daughter she will never agree to so
unreasonable a marriage."[34] So Henry was fain in the end to be content
with the marriage of Philip's son Charles, Duke of Luxemburg, to his
daughter Mary.

  [33] C. S. P. Spain, i. 476.

  [34] _Ibid._, 480.

September 1506 saw Henry's horizon suddenly widen. Philip of Castile
died in that month. Henry would marry his widow Joanna and control
Castile. Fortune this time favoured Ferdinand, who had been none too
well pleased by the marriage projects; Joanna went mad, and though Henry
said he did not mind that, seeing that she could still bear children, it
gave Ferdinand an excuse for delaying negotiations. Mad or sane, Henry
wanted to marry her, and de Puebla, the Spanish agent in England,
suggested that marriage with such a man as Henry would restore her to
sanity.[35] Margaret of Savoy[36] had obeyed her father in "amusing"
Henry, and the King played off one marriage against the other, telling
Ferdinand that he must decide soon about Joanna, for Margaret of Savoy
was waiting to marry him,[37] while to Margaret he said that there were
so many other great and honourable matches daily offered to him on all
sides[38] that he could hardly choose which to have. It is true Margaret
of Savoy had come to the Netherlands, but not as the prospective wife of
the King of England waiting to cross the channel at his nod. She had
been appointed Governess of the Netherlands and guardian to her nephew
Charles, Prince of Castile. By her means a treaty was concluded in 1507
with England, and the marriage of the children was to have taken place
at once, but Henry's illness prevented it. France, Spain and Austria
were to meet at Cambrai in December 1508 for the adjustment of their
claims in Italy, and Henry, in pursuance of his policy, tried hard, by
means of Wolsey, to get the Bishop of Gurk, Maximilian's secretary, to
help him to weaken Aragon by detaching France from him, so that
Ferdinand, who was maintaining himself in a usurped Castile by French
support, would find it impossible to continue to hold the kingdom.
Henry's desires had no weight at Cambrai, and England, having no stake
in Italy, was ignored. But on December 16, 1508, the marriage between
Charles of Castile and Mary of England was celebrated at Richmond.

  [35] C. S. P. Spain, i. 511.

  [36] _Ibid._, 547.

  [37] _Ibid._, 513.

  [38] _Ibid._, 491.

While these events were passing, Mary, to judge by her clothes, was
growing up. They became more elaborate. Her mourning for her mother did
not last long, for in June 1503 (three months after Elizabeth's death)
she was wearing a gown of blue cloth edged with black velvet, and
another of the same colour lined with miniver and edged with ermine. Her
kirtle was of blue damask bordered with black velvet, and her bonnets
were of "ermines powdered" and black velvet. She tied her hair with
tawny silk ribbon. Her stockings were white, and she was now allowed 300
pins. Jane Popincourt's allowance was practically the same; she, too,
had a blue gown edged with black velvet, white stockings, shoes, gloves,
and pins. In the autumn Mary had 1000 pins. Her allowance comes to two
gowns, kirtles, bonnets, etc., in the half year--not excessive for a

  [39] Wardrobe Accounts, Exc. K.R., Bundle 415 (10).

Henry VII. did not go in for unnecessary magnificence, and Mary's
trousseau, seeing she was to remain in her father's court at his charge,
was a very modest one. Her wedding gown was of tawny cloth of gold of
tissue with wide sleeves, lined with ermine, and trimmed with the same
down the front and round the foot, and with an ermine collar. Henry
ordered for her 1600 powderings from his own store--that is, the little
black tails which turn miniver into ermine. Her other gowns were of
purple tinsel furred with black shanks (coarse sheep's skin), of black
damask furred with the same, of crimson velvet "purfled with purfull"
(border) of crimson cloth of gold of damask, and lined with black
sarcenet, two kirtles, a scarlet petticoat, two pairs of slippers, six
pairs of hose and a pair of night-buskins (bed-socks); "a chamber stool
of tymber," a basin of tin to wash her head in, a new bowl of "tre" to
make lye in and baskets to carry the said basins in. All which details
indicate that she was to have a separate establishment. Thriftiness
comes in, and she was given a pair of sheets to cover up her gowns

  [40] Wardrobe Accounts, Exc. K.R., Bundle 416 (7).

She was a pretty, fair-haired child, with her father's beautiful
complexion, small for her age and looking younger than she was. She had
good manners and moved gracefully. By December 17 she was word-perfect
in her part of the ceremony, which was more than the Prince's proxy was,
and had been thoroughly well coached in her demeanour. The marriage was
to take place at Richmond, in what had been Queen Elizabeth's room,
called Mary's for the moment. There on that Sunday morning the Flemish
ambassador, Lord de Berghes, who was to be Charles' proxy, the Governor
of Bresse, Dr Sploncke, and Jehan le Sauvage, President of Flanders,
with the Flemish nobles who had come to see the show, met the English
Court. They waited, first for the King, who soon came in from the next
room and engaged the ambassadors in pleasant and courteous conversation,
and then for Mary, who did not keep them waiting long. Preceded by the
Princess of Wales and her ladies, she entered and went to the high
place prepared for her, and there stood alone under the golden cloth of
estate. The ceremony began by speeches from the Archbishop of Canterbury
and the President of Flanders, and these ended, with "due reverence in
most humble maner shewed and doon by the said Lord Barges with most
effectuous recommendacion made on the behalf of the Prynce of Castile,
he then, takynge my sayd lady by the hande and eftsones declaryng
thauctoritie geven unto him to contract matrymony with hir for and in
the name of the sayde yonge Prynce, rehersed and uttred at the
informacion of the sayd president the wordes of parfect matrymonye _per
verba de presenti_ whiche were before substantially devysed, put in
writyng, and by the said lorde Barges then spoken and uttred, lyke as
the said president redde theym to hym. And that doon, the hands
withdrawen and dysclosed as the maner is, the Kynge's sayd daughter,
eftsones takyng the sayd Lord Barges by the hande, with mooste sadde and
pryncely countenance, havynge noo maner of persone to reherse the wordes
of matrymonye to hir uttred, spake parfittely and distinctly in the
frensche tonge by a long circumstance the wordes of matrymonye for hir
partie, which by reason of the rehersall of his commission were veraye
longe. Howbeit she spake the same without any basshing of countenance,
stoppe or interrupcion therin in any behalfe; which thynge caused
dyverse and many, as wel nobles as other, then beying present and
herynge the same, not oonly to mervayle but also in suche wyse to
rejoyse that for extreme contente and gladnes the terys passed out of
theyr ies.

"After prolacion and utterance of which wordes ye sayd lord Barges, as
procuratour to the sayde yonge Prynce, for corroboracion and
confirmation of the sayde contract, not oonly subscrybed wrytyng
conteignynge the wordes of matrymonye by hym uttred, lyke as my forsayed
ladye dyde also for her partie, but also the sayd lorde in reverent
maner kyssed the sayd ladye Marye and put a Ryng of Gold on hir finger,
and in wyttenesse and testymonye of the sayd contract there were two
notaries there beynge present requyred on both parties to make
instruments upon the same. And all the lordes, ladyes and nobles heryng
and seying the premysses then and there were desyred to bere wytnesse
thereunto."[41] The ambassadors brought with them jewels for Mary; one
from Emperor Maximilian containing an orient ruby and a large and fair
diamond garnished with large pearls; another from the young prince, a K
for Karolus garnished with diamonds and pearls engraved with these
words,--"Maria optimam partem elegit quae non auferetur ab ea": and a
third from the Duchess of Savoy, a goodly balas (ruby) garnished with
pearls. The ambassadors also carried a prim little letter from Charles
to his "wife" with the date left blank, and on December 18, it was sent
to Mary.

  [41] Pynson's Tract: "The solempnities and triumphs doon and made
  at the spousells of the King's daughter," printed by the
  Roxburghe Club.

  Donee MSS., No. 198, Bodleian Library.

  Carmeliani Carmen, Grenville Library, B.M.

"Ma bonne campaigne, Le plus cordialement que je puis a vo[tre] bonne
grace me recommander. J'ai charge le sre de Bergh[es] et autres mes
ambassadeurs ordonnez pardeca vous deviser [la] disposition de ma
personne et de mes affaires, vous priant l[es] vouloir croire et par eux
me faire savoir de votre sante [et] bonnes nouvelles qui est la chose
que plus je desire [que] sect le benoit filz de dieu auquel je prie ma
bonne comp[aigne] vous donner par sa grace ce que desirez.

"A Malines xviii [in a different hand] jour de decembre.

    Vre bon mary,

  [42] MS. Galba B. iii. fol. 109.

The marriage was regarded by the Burgundian party in Flanders as a
bulwark against France, and an enthusiastic poet sang--

    Reveillez vous cueurs endormis
    Qui des Anglois estes amys
    Chantons Dame Maria.

    La Thoisan d'or et les pourpris
    Des Chasteaulx, Aigles et des litz
    Joyra Dame Maria.

    Marie fille du vray litz
    Henry septiesme Roy de pris
    Prince sur tous les Princes,

    Delyvreia de grans ennuys
    Tout Flandres de ses ennemys,
    Remontant les Eglises.

And so on through eight stanzas, the chorus being the opening one.

Henry did not long enjoy his triumph, and the last months of his life,
secure now in the marriage with Castile, he spent in increasing the
discomfort and misery in which he had kept the Princess of Wales for the
last six years. He again postponed her marriage with Henry, and
Katharine wrote in despair to her father that "it was impossible for her
to endure any longer what she has gone through and is still suffering
from the unkindness of Henry, especially since he has disposed of his
daughter in marriage to the Prince of Castile, and therefore imagines he
has no longer any need[43] of" Ferdinand. Henry died on April 21, 1509,
and by his will, dated at Canterbury, April 10, Mary is provided for as
follows: "And whereas we for the dot and marriage of our said daughter,
over and above the cost of her traduction into the parties of Flanders,
and furnishing of plate, and other her arrayments for her person, jewels
and garnishings for her chamber, which will extend to no little sum nor
charge, must pay and content to the said prince of Spain the sum of
fifty thousand pounds in ready money at certain dates expressed in the
said treaty.... And in case it so fortune, as God defend, that the said
marriage by the death of the said Prince of Castile, or by any other
chance or fortune whatsoever it be, take not effect, but utterly
dissolve and break, or that our said daughter be not married by us in
our life, nor after the same have sufficient provision for her dot and
marriage by the said three Estates, we then wol that our said daughter
may have for her marriage fifty thousand pounds payable of our goods....
So and in none otherwise that in her said marriage she be ruled and
ordered by the advice and consent of our said son the Prince, his
council and our said Executors; and so that she be married to some noble
Prince out of this our Realm."

  [43] C. S. P. Spain, i. 603.

After her father's death Mary's life went on in much the same way as
before, only to a faster note, for her brother was young, and her
grandmother, the only check on the new fashions, died within a year of
Henry. As the time fixed for the consummation of her marriage
approached she was given a schoolmaster in the French tongue. It is to
be presumed that it was only in the year 1512[44] that John Palsgrave
became her master, for up to that date there is no mention of a
schoolmaster in the accounts. Moreover, Palsgrave, in his book
'Lesclarcissement de la lange Francoyse,' says that it was Henry VIII.
who commissioned him "to instruct the right excellent princess your most
dear and entirely beloved sister, queen Mary dowager of France, in the
French tongue." Palsgrave writes himself down as "Natyf de Londres and
gradue de Paris," and he produced in 1530 the first French grammar for
Englishmen. Henry had had as French master Giles Du Wys, called his
luter in 1501,[45] and he had a "clear and perfect sight" in the
language, but Mary had only had Jane Popincourt. Still, she must have
known a little French, for, as has been seen, she had been able to
recite her marriage contract in that language without a stammer. But
much was to happen before Mary crossed the sea to speak the French she
learnt from Master John Palsgrave.

  [44] Book of King's payments, Exc. T.R., 215, f. 223; L. and P.
  H. VIII., ii. (part ii.), p. 1459.

  [45] Wardrobe Accounts, Exc. K.R., Bundle 415 (10).



Henry VII. on his death-bed saw clearly that his policy of thwarting
Ferdinand and seizing the government of Castile in favour of his
son-in-law was not one which could be followed out by an inexperienced
prince, and much as he distrusted Aragon, he knew it would be better
that his son should have him for a friend at the outset than be
entangled at once in his rancorous schemes. The prince must buy his own
experience, and Henry's advice to him was to marry Katharine with all
convenient speed, for naturally she could not remain a hostage in the
young King's hands as she had in those of his father. With the King's
death dropped the policy of peace at any price, for his son was of the
new age, eager to join in the battles of Europe and rich enough to
afford himself the gratification of military glory. More than once his
father, distrusting all men, had fought for peace with his back to the
wall, but Henry VIII., who dreamed of entering Paris at the head of a
victorious army, regarded distrust of Spain as a mere maggot in the
paternal brain, and, with the wealth of the greatest pawnbroker in
Europe at his back, was eager to take the offensive against France.

For the first three years of his reign the King, new-married and
happily, was guided by his father-in-law, and was merely a tool in his
hands, and in spite of John Stile's warning from Valladolid, Henry did
not doubt his goodwill. In order to understand Ferdinand's policy it
must be borne in mind that he was influenced by a fear which overhung
all his dealings with his allies and his enemies--the fear that Castile
would rise against him in favour of its prince. Philip's order to void
the country within twenty days[46] was never forgotten, and he lived in
hope that Charles might never emerge from a sickly boyhood, for though
his daughter, Philip's widow, was a negligible quantity, his grandson,
alas, was not. The greater part of Ferdinand's revenues were said to be
derived from Castile. He made war and carried his arms into Italy,
Africa and France at her expense, but legally his only status there was
that of regent for his daughter, Queen Joanna, who existed at
Tordesillas, watching there for the resurrection in ten years of her
dead husband, Philip, and was, "of no sadness nor wisdom more than a
young child and very feeble."[47] Her hysteria had been allowed to
develop into clear craziness. Ferdinand trusted none of the Castilian
nobles, who feared that his amity with Henry and the latter's marriage
with Katharine would deprive them of English help for their prince.
After the ratification of the marriage between Mary and Charles, he took
into his own hands as precaution all the castles of Galicia,[48] for
many of the nobles, like Gonsalvo the great captain, had offered their
services secretly to the Emperor for their prince, and Ferdinand feared
that Maximilian's success in Northern Italy might preface the revolt of
Naples and Sicily to the Prince of Castile. England had been ruled out
of the Treaty of Cambrai as not having a stake in Italy, and now
Ferdinand wanted to keep her neutral till it suited his convenience. So
he proclaimed himself Henry's faithful friend, brother and ally, and
said that he accounted all causes belonging to Henry, and himself, and
the Queen's grace and the Lady Mary, his noble sister, and the Prince of
Castile, as one thing and cause without variance, and that he governed
Castile solely for the weal of the prince, "the whych ys and schalbe hys
eyre of all hys landys after hys decesse." It was to be a nice little
family party, with Ferdinand as paternal despot. He had not the faintest
idea in the world of making Charles, whom he hated, his universal heir,
but in the wisdom of John Stile, the English agent in Spain, "wordes
maye be spoken wythe dyssymulacyon."[49] There was, however, discord in
the family. Ferdinand declared that though there was no open breach
between him and the Emperor, there was "a little grudge and variance for
the governacyon of the realm of Castile," in which the Emperor was
unreasonable, and he trusted Maximilian would soon be reformed with
reason. At this moment he was working for some _modus vivendi_ with him
concerning this "governacyon," and that once arranged, he intended to
make common cause with him against France, whose Italian conquests were
causing Spain great uneasiness. He made all his dealings with the Low
Countries depend on this settlement, and refused to pay Lady Margaret's
jointure, long in arrears, and other pensions owing to Flemish subjects,
till that was settled. If the Emperor's future was unprosperous in
Italy, Margaret was to have a slack answer, but if Maximilian sped
prosperously, then Margaret might have her jointure on condition that
she negotiated the amity between the Emperor and Aragon.[50]

  [46] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 4058; Vesp. C. i. 86.

  [47] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 490; Vesp. C. i. 56.

  [48] _Ibid._

  [49] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 490; Vesp. C. i. 56.

With France, as may be seen, Ferdinand did not mean to break till it
served his purpose. In John Stile's words:--"as touching to the French
King that he [Ferdinand] also intendeth for to continue in amity with
him, as long as that your highness and your good-father shall think
standeth with the honours and profits of your highnesses, and no longer
nor otherwise; the King your good-father being joyous and glad that your
highness is in amity and good peace with all Christian princes, and his
majesty not counselling nor advising your highness as yet for to move
any war unto any outward prince, unless that great causes should move
your highness there unto."[51] Verily a treaty solemnly sworn to on the
Gospels and in sight of the Host was but a cloak to hide new sins
against the amity! In his great desire to keep his son-in-law entirely
in his own pocket, and to forward this present policy, he had great
difficulty in finding an ambassador to send to the English court: a
_natural_ Castilian was openly for the prince, an Aragonese for the
French, and he ended by sending Luis Carroz, who was well tarred with
his master's stick.

  [50] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 490; Vesp. C. i. 56.

  [51] _Ibid._

After the contract at Cambrai the French, with their usual quick
resoluteness, were first in the field in Italy, but their successes,
culminating in the battle of Agnadello, 14th May 1509, and the capture
of the Venetian general d'Alviano, delighted no one but Maximilian, who
hoped to find his opportunity in the weakness of the Venetians, and
besieged Padua. The other members of the League, Ferdinand and the
Pope, feared both French and Emperor, and the one tore his beard and
secretly received at Rome the Venetian envoys asking for help, while the
other, who already saw Maximilian holding Naples for his grandson,
allowed the Venetians to use his ships, and sent provisions from Naples
to Venice, to revictual Padua. "Il cherchait tenir toujours l'Empereur
si bas qu'il ne pourroit lever la tête," grumbled Gattinare to
Margaret,[52] but all the same to break with "ce marrano" would draw in
its train trouble with Gueldres and difficulty in getting payment of the
duchess's jointure, so those on the gangway between the Empire and
France had to sit quietly waiting on opportunity. At this moment
Maximilian was the only member of the League who was pursuing a single
aim. He wanted to crush the Venetians. Ferdinand, while ostensibly
trying to bring about an understanding with Maximilian, was secretly
practising against him, and Louis XII., at whose court Imperial,
Burgundian and Spanish ambassadors were squabbling over their masters'
affairs, was supposed to be furthering this amity between Ferdinand and
Maximilian, but all the while was secretly moving against it. He said,
for Maximilian had been rebuffed before Padua, that it was not a fair
moment to treat, for "un homme reculé ne fait jamais appointtement à son
profite, et que si l'on veult faire bon appointtement il la fault faire
la lance sur la cuisse."[53] Just what Maximilian could not do. "Je ne
scay quel Diable fait ses affairs si malheureux,"[54] said the
exasperated Burgundian agent De Burgo. However, by December 24 an
understanding had been arranged between the grandparents of Charles,
and amity concluded. Naples was secured to Aragon, so far as Maximilian
was concerned, and Ferdinand began to weave his web round France.

  [52] Lettres de Louis XII., i. 189.

  [53] _Ibid._, 218.

  [54] _Ibid._, 231.

He begged Henry, but secretly, for fear of the French getting wind of it
(for the Spanish ambassador in France said that the French had their
spies in England, and nothing was spoken in London but straightway it
was known in Paris), to try and conclude a league between England, the
Emperor, Spain, Flanders; Portugal would join, and Spain would be
secure, no stab in the back for her. Henry must write to Julius II. and
ask him to join, "so that the said amity and lyage may be made and
established before the French King shall have knowledge of the same."
For, he lisped to John Stile through his lost front tooth, such a noble
league came by the great power and mercy of Almighty God, as did the
accord and amity between the Emperor and himself, so that the French
King should not attain unto his cruel purpose to destroy and subdue all
the countries of Italy. Under such high patronage he foresaw no
difficulty in reconciling the Venetians and the Emperor, for
simultaneous inspired advice from England, Spain and Rome was to make
the Venetians restore to the Emperor all that they had of his, and Louis
was to find himself alone and at bay before the kings of Europe. In
order to bring Henry's interests into the ring, Ferdinand emphasized the
subtle policy of France, for, victorious in North Italy, she would turn
her arms against the South, and wrest Naples from the crown of Castile
and Aragon. All the same, till the establishment of this great league he
ordered Henry to pass the time with the French King in goodly terms--in
fact, to do as did his father-in-law, and always lean to the best
advantage.[55] So the English ambassadors at Rome were hand in glove
with the Venetians, and daily plotted with them and the Aragonese to the
great prejudice of the league of Cambrai.[56]

  [55] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 796; Vesp. C. i. 43.

  [56] Lettres de Louis XII., ii. 96.

Time now revealed the weak point in Ferdinand's calculations. Maximilian
would not be won over, and in spite of English and Aragonese practices
Venice would not give up her conquests. So that the rotten rags of the
league of Cambrai had to be patched together, and Ferdinand told Henry
that he must give all aid to the kings of the league to destroy the
Venetians. But whatever you do, live in peace with France, is the chorus
of all his letters. How to do this while the Duchess of Savoy was asking
persistently for help against the Duke of Gueldres,[57] and the Scots
were buying guns[58] in the Netherlands? France was backing Gueldres as
usual with men and money, and in reply to the complaints of the Flemish
agents, Louis XII. only shook his head over "ce mauvais sujet" of a duke
and wished the devil might fly away with him for a disturber of the
peace. Margaret must make what terms she could, so she turned to
England. Henry was arming and preparing for events. He bought
forty-eight guns from Hans Popenruyter, the gunfounder at Malines,[59]
and was to have them as cheap as the prince, said Margaret, who seized
those bought by the Scots and resold them to Henry.[60] She said
distinctly, however, that she would neither be party to the league with
Aragon against France nor persuade her father thereto unless Henry
promised help against Gueldres.[61] To defend the Flemish border against
Gueldres was a left-handed way of making war on France, and Ferdinand
would not approve. So Henry followed his "good-father's" advice and
imitated him, and in April accepted the Golden Rose from Julius II.,[62]
while two months later he confirmed the treaty made with France in March
1510.[63] If Henry was Ferdinand in miniature, "Julius was Julius
indeed," and in August a letter from him to Henry was intercepted by the
French. Its contents were forwarded to Henry by Maximilian, who denied
the truth of the Pope's statement that he and Ferdinand had entered into
a league with the Papacy against France. This was only the Pope's evil
plan to assist the Venetians "au contraire de la ligue de nous tous rois
car les dits Veniciens ont gagné ses mignons et privez conseillers."[64]
Louis XII. now wrote to James IV. of Scotland to remind him of the
ancient league between their countries.[65] Henry, still passing the
time with all parties, told the Pope he would join the league when
Maximilian and Ferdinand did:[66] then he wrote to the Council of the
Cardinals at Milan, supporters of and supported by France and
Maximilian, promising assistance in settling[67] the perplexities of the
Church; and almost in the same breath he promised Ferdinand one thousand
archers.[68] Hence Sir Robert Wingfield, ambassador to the Emperor, was
taken aback and perplexed by the demand that Henry should countenance
the General Council at Pisa and the articles devised against the Pope
which were set forward in the name of the Emperor and the French King,
and he told the bishop of Gurk that the King would gladly have known the
Emperor's mind before the imperial foot had been so far in the
bushel.[69] The crux of the situation was Maximilian's attitude towards
the Venetians, whose terms of peace he refused. Neither would he have
aught to do with Pope or Aragon against France. Margaret, however, came
to the rescue, for peace negotiations with Gueldres on the basis of the
Duke's marriage with the Archduchess Isabeau,[70] sister to the Prince
of Castile, had come to nothing, as they were meant to. She was still
anxious for Henry's support in Flanders, and as the price he exacted was
the alliance, she threw into that scale her influence with her father.
So long, however, as the rumour ran that Ferdinand intended to put the
crown of Naples on the head of the bastard of the Archbishop of
Saragossa, to the prejudice of the Prince of Castile, Maximilian refused
to have anything to do with him,[71] and Margaret wrote that until this
suspicion was weeded from her father's mind, the League of the Holy
Trinity, symbolized by the three princes, would never take place.
Ferdinand's answer was to send the bastard to Malines as hostage.[72] In
the naïve blasphemy of the age Ferdinand and Henry were the father and
son, so that the Third Person was the one symbolized by Maximilian.
Louis XII. was watching Margaret, and, thanks to the French party in
the Flemish Council and French merchants married to Englishwomen as
spies in England, he lacked no news. He warned her that he had been told
of her league, but affected not to believe the gossip.[73] However, by
July he knew the truth, for Margaret's efforts had borne fruit for her
gathering, and Henry, as hansel-money for the future league, sent Sir
Edward Ponynges and 1500 archers[74] into the Low Countries to help
Castile against Gueldres. "Je suis adverty," said Louis XII. to Andreas
de Burgo, "que ma cousine m'a fort piqué en Angleterre," and added one
to the score against his former playmate. Matters moved secretly till
October, when the Holy League against France between the Pope, Aragon
and Venice was published, by which Ferdinand was to find the men and the
other two the money for chasing the French from Lombardy. England joined
it [November 1511],[75] and now France had but one ally, whom she was
exceedingly nervous about losing, and tried to steady by the offer of a
marriage between Renée of France and the Archduke Ferdinand, brother to
Charles. Maximilian coquetted with the league, and by the end of the
year rumour had it that his ambassador, the ubiquitous Gurk, had already
taken his lodging in Venice at St Paul's, and that Louis might make
mince-meat of his duchy.[76]

  [57] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 922; Galba B. iii. 5.

  [58] _Ibid._, i. 924; Galba B. iii. 5.

  [59] _Ibid._, i. 794; Galba B. iii.

  [60] _Ibid._, i. 922.

  [61] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 923; Galba B. iii. 7.

  [62] _Ibid._, i. 976.

  [63] _Ibid._, i. 1105.

  [64] Lettres de Louis XII., ii. 5.

  [65] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 1407; R. MS. 13, B. ii. 52, B.M.

  [66] _Ibid._, i. 1457; Vitell. B. ii. 18.

  [67] _Ibid._, i. 1581; Vitell. B. ii. 11.

  [68] _Ibid._, i. 1622; Vesp. C. i. 18.

  [69] L. and P. H. VIII., 1681; Vitell. B. xviii. 15.

  [70] _Ibid._, i. 1417.

  [71] Lettres de Louis XII., ii. 154.

  [72] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 3361; Galba B. iii. 11.

  [73] Lettres de Louis XII., ii. 289.

  [74] Hall's Chronicle, ed. 1809, p. 523.

  [75] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 1967.

  [76] Lettres de Louis XII., iii. 103.

At the French Court nothing was talked of but the possibility of an
English invasion: 25,000 men said spies, "prêts à monter en mer" and
invade by Calais at any moment: and Louis was so irritable and
depressed that the whole Court was profoundly discouraged,[77] for
Aragon and England were like to be two prongs in the back of the
country. True, Gueldres could be loosed again on Flanders and the Scots
on England, but the adage then as now was true, and vicarious warfare
was seldom satisfactory. The old weapon of supporting a pretender to the
English throne, blunt, rusty, and out of date as it had so rapidly
become, reappeared, and Richard de la Pole, Captain of Almains,[78] was
styled and treated as King of England in France.[79] A lean, blackavised
French priest with a crooked eyebrow, Louis' faithful spy,[80] carried
the correspondence between Pole and his family, which eventually led to
the execution of Earl Edmund in the Tower. The taking of Brescia by the
Duke of Nemours [February 1512] cheered up the French Court, and by
April, when the English King-at-arms arrived with Henry's defiance, "not
in his coat but clad like a gentleman," the English scarce had almost
become _vieux jeu_, and the country had regained its poise. Henry said
he had no choice but to make war in aid of his allies, the Pope and
Aragon, and Louis replied if that was all, he did it with little reason.
Still, the French King hoped to keep Margaret and the Emperor out of the
alliance, while the English agents in Flanders were working hard to
bring them within it, and to keep them to the old amity. The Governess
of the Netherlands had one idea all through, the crushing of Gueldres,
whose thieving raids and besieging excursions kept the eastern border in
a state of harried poverty. The duke claimed sovereign rights which
Flanders did not recognize, and France had always found it paid to
support him. In consequence of the dual suzerainty, Imperial and French,
to the Burgundian provinces, there were always two parties in the
Flemish Council, the French and the Burgundian, or, as it was now, the
English. The Burgundian was Margaret's party, and she over-rode the
opposition of the French sympathizers, but she could not prevent their
clogging the execution of her purposes by secret intrigues with France.
Louis gave up all hope of detaching her from the English. Maximilian, on
the other hand, was, in his fickleness, surer game than his daughter,
for though in June [1512] he dismissed the French ambassadors from
Brussels, telling them that if they would not go when they could, they
should not when they would,[81] in October he was practising with Louis
at Cologne.

  [77] Lettres de Louis XII., iii. 101.

  [78] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 3584; Vesp. C., i. 60.

  [79] _Ibid._, i. 3320; Calig. B. vi. 65.

  [80] _Ibid._, i. 4328; Galba B. iii. 113.

  [81] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 3271; Galba B. iii. 31.


Between these months much happened to the unfortunate English
ambassadors who were attempting to finish the negotiations begun with
the Emperor in May. First Maximilian dismissed the French ambassadors.
That looked hopeful. Then he refused to allow the gentlemen of Flanders
to serve in Henry's army. Next he demanded 100,000 crowns of gold down
on declaring war with France, and said that the Pope or Aragon would
willingly give him as much. He knew his worth to the league! Then he
departed suddenly, saying the whole business was safe in his daughter's
hands. Now began endless delays. Margaret had no formal commission:[82]
she did not think her father would be pleased to find himself in the
same boat as the Venetians [the veriest _abc_ of dealing with
Maximilian]; and the real reason was that by means of Duke George of
Saxony, Gueldres had proposed a truce with the Emperor which Margaret
was willing to accept. So the Governor of Bresse and the Count de
Berghes, both Margaret's adherents in the council, fought shy[83] of Sir
Edward Ponynges and Sir Thomas Boleyn, and the stomach of the English
was much diminished by waiting. Margaret, "a perfect friend to England,"
suggested, after a couple of months' waiting, that they should fee the
Emperor's secretaries to keep her commission in his memory,[84] and a
fortnight later she asked Sir Thomas if he would lay a wager on its soon
coming. Gladly, said he, and they shook hands on it; a courser of Spain
to an English hobby.[85] The Emperor's secretaries wanted to know the
form the commission was to take. The English said the same as at
Cambrai;[86] that is, full powers to treat, and no doubt Margaret wanted
that too, for when it did come in restricted form, at the beginning of
September (though it was dated August 2 at Cologne) for a whole day she
was so cross that the ambassadors could not see her.[87] On September 4
they discussed the treaty, which was confined to Henry and Maximilian;
Flanders was to be neutral. The English said the Imperial alliance alone
was dear at 150,000 ducats, and Henry refused to treat save on the
previous understanding, which included Flanders.

  [82] _Ibid._, i. 3291; Galba B. iv. 33.

  [83] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 3306; Galba B. iii. 35_d_.

  [84] _Ibid._, i. 3331; Galba B. iii. 37.

  [85] _Ibid._, i. 3370; Galba B. iii. 40_d_.

  [86] _Ibid._, i. 3387; Galba B. iii. 43.

  [87] _Ibid._, i. 3396; Galba B. iii. 43_d_.

All this time the English army, sent to Guienne to invade France
according to the treaty of the Holy League of November 1511, had been
idly kicking its heels and waiting for Ferdinand to co-operate for the
recovery of the province. But Ferdinand did nothing, and the men,
wearied with idleness and worn by lack of victuals in a disorderly camp,
mutinied and returned home ingloriously in the Autumn[88] [1512]. In
October, however, there came rumours from the Bishop of Liège,[89] the
centre of French influence in the Low Countries, of the defeat of the
French in the south, and Maximilian broke off negotiations with Louis
and turned to the English, with the result that Gueldres broke again
across the Maas, with "good effect, for the inhabitants were in a manner
fast asleep and are now awake."[90] The Duke's French reinforcements had
an encounter with the Liegéois, and Maximilian himself was nearly
kidnapped on his way from Cologne by the Duke's men, disguised as
Burgundians.[91] But news of the impotence of the English excursion into
Guienne soon became public property, and their undisciplined and
disgraceful retreat was the joke of Court and camp. Margaret was annoyed
for two reasons: the first that Gueldres was very active and that French
negotiations had been broken off, and the second that the rich English
were but reeds to lean on. So when in October Henry refused to pay
50,000 crowns for entertaining the Swiss against the French,[92] and
asked that the Emperor's subjects (in the Low Countries) should be
prevented from serving the French, the President of Bresse replied that
Maximilian had prevented _one thousand Swiss_ from taking French
service, "which answer was so colorably made that a man might savour the
color of it all the chamber." Then my Lady Margaret spoke "with a qualm
of a little melancholy about her stomach" [Ponynges' way of saying she
was in a great rage], "if ye be disposed to delay it [the treaty] we
shall defer it as well as you," saying besides, that "Englishmen had so
long abstained from war that they lacked experience from disuse and it
was reported that they were now weary of it." She wrote to her father in
this mood and caused more delays,[93] and when the ambassadors
remonstrated, she said openly to them, "Where had we been now if this
confederation had been concluded between your master and us?"[94] All
fair promises and sweet words, but no deeds, were to be found at
Malines. From Scotland came the gibe that the English soldiers could not
easily be induced to invade France or Gueldres after their Biscayan
experience,[95] and though Henry declared that the return of the army
was sanctioned by the King of Aragon and himself because of the constant
rains in Guienne, and "the intolerable pains of the soldiers of our said
army, which in the barren country had perseverantly lain in the
fields,"[96] no one believed his report. The joke of the thing is, that,
as a matter of fact, from September to January there reigned superb
weather in Biscay that year.[97] Ferdinand said he believed that Henry
had given secret orders for the return.[98] But the supreme insult came
from Maximilian, who proposed that the command of the English army in
France should be handed over to him while Henry remained in England. The
Emperor counselled the King not to stir out of his country, but to keep
the people in awe and bridle the Scots.[99] He would take command for
100,000 crowns. Nothing more was needed to increase Henry's war fever.
He had a bull from Julius II.[100] granting indulgence to those who
served in the holy war against France; his agents were already in Italy
buying armour, for the Frescobaldi had made a corner of it in
Milan;[101] in Zeeland, collecting ships for the passage, where they bid
against the French;[102] in Flanders, buying horses and feeing men.[103]
At home Wolsey was busy with military organization and his schemes for a
more efficient commissariat and transport, while Henry and Admiral
Howard, following the admiral's advice, "for no cost sparyng, let
provision be maad: for it is a weel-spent peny that saveth the
pownd,"[104] were working to bring the navy up to some sort of fighting
standard. And into this busy Court, full of young men dreaming of loot
and military glory, and enthusiastic old men like Sir Gilbert Talbot,
who, having served Henry's father and grandfather, was now "minded so
sore and purposed to have served the King's grace and in this journey,
that I almost forgot God and set my heart on none other thing, but only
how I might best serve his grace at this time,"[105] came Maximilian's
proposal. Gueldres saved the situation. His activity, veiled by renewed
offers of truce,[106] inclined Margaret to the English as a poor prop,
but her only one, and many Flemish nobles offered their services to

  [88] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 3451; Vesp. C, i. 81.

  [89] _Ibid._, i. 3435; Galba B. iii. 48_d_.

  [90] _Ibid._, i. 3446; Galba B. iii. 49.

  [91] _Ibid._, i. 3489; Galba B. iii. 52_b_.

  [92] _Ibid._, i. 3469; Galba B. iii. 51.

  [93] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 3500; Galba B. iii. 52_b_.

  [94] _Ibid._, i. 3555; Galba B. iii. 54.

  [95] _Ibid._, i. 3631, R. MS., 13 B. ii. 77b.

  [96] _Ibid._, i. 3555; Galba B. iii. 54.

  [97] _Ibid._, i. 3614; Vesp. C, i. 69.

  [98] _Ibid._, i. 3662; Vesp. C, i. 24.

  [99] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 3648; Vitell. B. xviii. 27.

  [100] _Ibid._, i. 3602; Rymer's Fœdera, xiii. 343.

  [101] _Ibid._, i. 3658; Vitell. B. ii. 20.

  [102] _Ibid._, i. 3678; Galba B. iii. 98.

  [103] _Ibid._, i. 3731; Galba B. iii. 64.

  [104] _Ibid._, i. 3877; Calig, D. vi. 337.

  [105] _Ibid._, i. 4021.

  [106] _Ibid._, i. 3651; Galba B. iii. 96.

  [107] _Ibid._, i. 3731; Galba B. iii. 64.

The final ruin to Henry's faith in his allies was to come very soon, and
of it he was warned by John Stile from Valladolid. Ferdinand made a
truce with the French for one year. It came about this way. The Emperor
and the Pope, despairing of accommodation with the Swiss, had made a
league together to the great displeasure of Aragon, who, oddly enough,
in view of what followed, resented that any league should be made
suddenly without his consent or England's. He also feared that such
league would cause the Venetians to adjoin themselves to the French, and
of a likelihood with the Turks, so that Louis would be stronger than
ever. Anne of Brittany, the French Queen, was anxious for a Cisalpine
peace, and as a means to this end wanted to ignore English rights and
marry the Princess Renée to Charles of Castile, with the duchy of
Brittany as dowry.[108] Ferdinand told Stile a fisher's tale[109] about
his having dispatched the Provincial of the Grey Friars to England by
way of France to be Queen Katharine's confessor, and that on his way he
had been taken prisoner and carried to Blois, and that Anne had had him
released and sent him back to Spain, carrying a letter of peace to the
Queen of Aragon. All which tale was but nutshells, for the return of the
Provincial with the letter was preached in open pulpit by a friar of his
own order, who admonished the people to pray for peace. Ferdinand
grasped at the proposed truce as a moment in which to gain strength to
carry out his original plan for the complete isolation of France and the
annexation of Navarre. So in devious pursuit of this plan, on March 16,
1513, new articles to the treaty with Aragon were signed in London, and
Henry was again bled, and at Malines the Aragonese ambassador attempted
to rid the Flemish council of Chièvres and the French party and replace
them with people more agreeable to his master,[110] while at Valladolid
John Stile was told positively that the truce between France and Aragon
was accomplished.[111] All fair writing and slack deeds in Spain also,
"for the Spaniards," said Stile, "are by nature so hasty and envious to
all strangers that they despise every man."

  [108] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 3752.

  [109] _Ibid._, i. 3766; Vesp. C., i. 30.

  [110] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 3805; Galba B. iii. 67.

  [111] _Ibid._, i. 3807; Vesp. C., i. 50.

Ferdinand did not succeed in ousting the French party at Malines, and it
continued to grumble at the English in Zeeland, where it said they only
made war on the Flemish and were so dull that they let French vessels
pass unchallenged.[112] Lord Chièvres, the head of it, made tremendous
capital out of a carack belonging to one Andreas Scarella, the Sta Maria
de Loretto,[113] which had been sold in Zeeland to the French, but the
English got wind of the transaction and lifted her, cargo and all. The
council said this interference was grossly impertinent, and were hot and
intemperate over the matter, and not at all repentant for their
"seditious" ways in favouring the French King, which made it impossible
to conserve their ports and havens as Henry would have liked. They said
they could do that well enough for themselves without troubling the
English. Henry had laid an embargo on all trade between the Low
Countries and France, and he now offered if this matter were dropped to
allow them to resume their trade under "letters testimonials," English
captains to have the right of search.[114] However, in spite of the
strength of the French party, on March 16 Maximilian, with a final
haggle over the rate of exchange, signed the treaty with Henry, who
steadily refused to have any Swiss in his pay, saying that his army was
so powerful that he hoped to lead it to Paris, "especially our father of
Aragon making war against our said enemy." Next month, April, Henry knew
of his father-in-law's perfidy,[115] but he passed the time in Spanish
fashion, and went the length of forcing Ferdinand's ambassador to sign
the treaty of the Holy League, concluded at Malines on April 5,[116] by
which the Pope was to invade Dauphiny; the Emperor, the trans-Alpine
provinces; Henry, Picardy, Normandy and Aquitane; Ferdinand, Béarne and
Languedoc. Luis Carroz swore to it publicly in St Paul's on April
25,[117] and then wrote to Spain that in spite of Ferdinand's secret
orders he had been forced to do so for fear of the consequences of

  [112] _Ibid._, i. 3817;, Galba B. iii. 104.

  [113] _Ibid._, i. 3973.

  [114] _Ibid._, i. 3836; Vitell. B. xviii. 36.

  [115] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 3766 and 4267; Vesp. C., i. 30 and

  [116] _Ibid._, i. 3859, R.

  [117] _Ibid._, i. 3861; Rymer's Fœdera, xiii. 363.

  [118] _Ibid._, i. 4267; Vesp. C., i. 40.

As was to be expected, the Emperor, who quivered to every wind, again
wavered at news of this Franco-Spanish truce. The news had reached him
spiced (by Ferdinand) with the lie that Henry was privy to it, and
though Wingfield indignantly told him that Henry was not "so light or of
so little resolution to arm him at all pieces and then call for a
pillow,"[119] he said that if Henry entered the truce he would also.
However, in the end, stiffened by resentment and by the English
attitude, he definitely ordered his subjects in the Low Countries to
serve Henry, and the Count de Ligny and others took service.

  [119] _Ibid._, i. 4069; Vitell. B. xviii. 39.

All this time the English had been skirmishing with the French in the
Calais Pale[120] and the Welshmen of the garrison had done some damage.
Sampson Norton, the head of the arsenal, had been taken prisoner, and
the French party at Malines tried to prevent his exchange.[121] The
English fleet had been exercising in the channel in March, a brave show,
and now letter packets need not be dropped overboard to save them from
French hands.[122] In April the organization of the land forces was
approaching something like order, and the fleet was sailing along the
coast of Brittany, which Howard hoped to make a desert for many a year,
looking for the enemy. Never was such a navy seen, and Préjan and his
French fleet dare not hove in sight, so the gallant admiral went to find
them and his death. But if French ships were not in evidence in the
channel, French agents were thick in Flanders. The Count de Ligny was
balked in raising troops for England by a "lord bearing a French
order,"[123] who warned the towns against him as a favourer of the
English, and Louis told the Ghentois they would rue any help they gave.
Sir Robert Wingfield, carrying the treaty from Brussels to the Emperor
at Trier for ratification, found that "French crowns fly far,"[124] and
twice on his journey he barely escaped ambuscades. The second one was
laid by the son of Robert de la Marck, who a week before had taken four
Englishmen to his father's castle at Hesdin. The Franco-Spanish truce
was soon common property, and Margaret had an anxious moment, but she
was relieved when the English ambassadors told her of the noble deeds at
sea of their countrymen against the French, and "she took a letter out
of her purse wherein the tidings were written concerning the bruit and
common rumour of the truce between the King of Aragon and the French
King, and brake the said letter, casting it on the ground saying these
words, 'Let the universal bruit and vulgar opinion give place to the

  [120] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 3744; Calig. E., ii. 115.

  [121] _Ibid._, i. 3362; Galba B. iii. 39d.

  [122] _Ibid._, i. 3659.

  [123] _Ibid._, i. 3916; Galba B. vi. 120.

  [124] _Ibid._, i. 3945; Vitell. B. xviii. 37.

  [125] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 3962; Galba B. iii. 25.

Ferdinand was furious at the English attitude, for he felt his golden
goose had passed out of his hand, and he was not calmed by the news of
the victory at Brest and the burning of the French ships. He raked up
all the old grievances against the marriage of Mary and Charles, pointed
by the fact that Charles was now riper in years, and would soon be of
age. In May the dreaded league between France and Venice was known at
Valladolid, and it weighed greatly on his stomach that the shrewd turn
he had hoped to play France was likely to recoil on his own head, for
Maximilian and Henry were sure to remain allied. He was right, but it
was touch and go with Maximilian. The Emperor said roundly to Wingfield,
who came up with him at Augsburg, that if France were to regain Milan he
would have enough to do there without actually invading France, though
Louis were "the most worthy vitupere of any prince living." However, a
couple of days later, in Augsburg Cathedral, after mass sung by his own
chapel with exquisite organs, with his hand on the Gospels and Canon he
swore to the treaty with Henry.[126] There seemed some chance of his
holding to his oath this time, for his words appeared "to pass more
roundly than they were wont to do." Alas for hopes! Two days had hardly
passed [17th May 1513] ere a wind from the south veered him round. The
Venetians and the French were allied, and he told Wingfield that had he
been advertised of these news he would never have sworn, and now it was
as impossible for him to send an army to France as it was for a man who
had promised to run a furlong to do so if he broke his leg. But he said
he would do his best to run out the remainder on a stilt. Poor
Wingfield! "The French," he groaned, "are so subtle that they can blind
and corrupt the whole world."[127] Margaret, however, was steadfast and
impervious to French corruption, and said she felt herself safe from
France behind English arrows,[128] but the French party in her council
left few stones unturned in their efforts to avert war. Charles' Spanish
secretary was sent secretly into France to try and break the treaty of
marriage between Mary and the prince, and to practise a negotiation
between Louis XII. and the Emperor.[129] Louis said that Margaret and
Lord Berghes had assisted the English against the opinion of the
council, and he kept for them a pensée. It took the familiar form of
Gueldres at this moment. Ferdinand, said spies at Blois, was called a
traitor in France, and so he was, for at Malines he posed as Henry's
friend, and rated Margaret for not giving him adequate assistance. He
begged her to ask the King of England to use his counsel, and promised
to assent to anything that would advance the amity with England, and
also re-assented to the marriage treaty. "A very wise prince," said
Margaret, "in whose subtle understanding is comprised many profound
matters: his mind and intent are good."[130]

  [126] _Ibid._, i. 4069; Vitell. B. xviii. 39.

  [127] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 4078; Vitell. B. xviii. 45.

  [128] _Ibid._, i. 3915; Harl. 3462, 32.

  [129] _Ibid._, i. 4328; Galba B. iii. 113.

  [130] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 4296; Galba B. iii. 115.

The defeat of the French at Novarro set all Rome daily expectant to hear
of their extermination by the English in Picardy, while experts in
Germany shook their heads over such a possibility.[131] They said that
the advantage lost last year in Guienne would not be easily recovered.
Wingfield expressed the English feeling of confidence when he wrote "but
such is God and better which only is the head of your enterprise, and
hath given the noble courage and hardiness to elect of yourself the
cost, travell and jeopardy, to attain the honour and glory that must
needs follow."[132]

  [131] _Ibid._, i. 4216; Galba B. iii. 83.

  [132] _Ibid._



The musters of the mercenaries had been fixed for Dunkirk on May 20, and
the captain of the vanguard, the Earl of Shrewsbury, was to be at Calais
on the 16th,[133] but, as is so often the case, paper plans drawn by
able clerks did not develop rapidly into accomplished facts, and by the
19th nothing was ready.[134] What a muddle it all reads, and the marvel
is that any men were ever shipped at all! First all the shipping had to
be pressed or borrowed, and the hoys had to be hired in the Low
Countries or along the English coast and towed to the embarking or
loading ports. Then the victuallers had to be loaded in the Thames and
at Sandwich, and brought round to the ports where were the hoys or
ships. There was hardly a man in England but was pressed for the King's
service and wore his coat; the very carters of Kent and Sussex sported
the white and green as they cracked their whips by their horses' sides
on their way to Sandwich, while all the able-bodied men south of Trent
were on their way to Dover or Southampton with journey money in their
pockets and the King's coat on their backs. As company after company
arrived they had to be housed till transport was found for them, and for
two days' journey inland round Southampton the country was swarming
with men waiting to be embarked.[135] Fox, bishop of Winchester, was
worrying through with the business of transport there; Lord Mountjoy had
been sent in a hurry to superintend the Cinque Ports,[136] and the
victuallers, while Wolsey, the King's almoner, was worn to a shadow[137]
in London in the endeavour to deliver into life his admirably sketched
plans for organization. Human nature is not passive pen and ink, and
then as now what is called the English lower middle class was absolutely
undisciplined. If you doubt it, think of the Biscay performance in 1512,
and more recent muddles since. Waste, leakage and unpunctuality were the
opening notes of the proceedings, but it is only fair to add that during
the whole campaign there was no lack of wholesome victual and in
consequence no epidemic. Fox, appalled at the sight of the undisciplined
army of brewers, bakers, coopers, smiths, horsekeepers, millers, etc.,
invading the port, and overwhelmed at the thought of the oxen from
Lincoln and Holland, the ling, the cod, bacon, beer, biscuit, to say
nothing of the tankards, platters, and cauldrons needed to feed the
host, longed for the arrival of Charles Brandon and Lord Howard.[138]
But Sir Charles was court-bound having just been made Lord Lisle by his
adoring King, and Lord Howard, admiral of the Fleet in the room of his
late brother, whose gallant death a month ago at Brest had retrieved the
honour of the English nation, was wind-bound at Plymouth, and could do
nothing either by way of scouring the narrow seas to ensure the safe
passage of the hoys and men, or in assisting to bring order out of
chaos. He was waiting impatiently for the next wind to bring him round
to the Wight, refused all leave to his men and raised a gallows at the
water-edge as a grim gloss upon his order.[139] The victuallers' ships
had not come from Sandwich and transport from the west was wind-bound
with the fleet, but Fox muddled on, sure that once Howard came with Lord
Lisle things would hum to the right tune. They evidently did, and Henry
himself came down privately with Lisle to see the vanguard's
departure.[140] Lisle's large retinue went with it, chaplains, fifers,
Blind Dick the minstrel and all, but Brandon himself remained behind to
cross with the King on a hypothetical June 15.

  [133] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 4008; Galba B. iii. 77.

  [134] _Ibid._, 4094.

  [135] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 4094.

  [136] _Ibid._, 4083; Rymer's Fœdera, xiii. 369.

  [137] _Ibid._, 4103.

  [138] _Ibid._, 4094.

  [139] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 4076; Calig. D. vi. 102.

  [140] _Ibid._, 4095, and 4169.

On June 13 the vanguard, "all picked men armed with corselets,
bracelets, sallets and gorgets and over their armour a coat of white and
green, the King's colours,"[141] set out for the object of attack, the
town of Therouenne. This frontier fortress, so important that it was
called "La chambre du Roy"[142] barred the way to the attack of the
towns on the Somme, for the French had retired into the towns and
castles and meant to wear out the invaders by a prolonged series of
sieges. Louis XII. was at Amiens and the French army was under the
command of the Duke of Bourbon and the Duke of Angoulême, while the army
of Picardy, which was in force at Boulogne and Montreuil, was under the
Sieur de Piennes. Five miles a day was an average march for the English
army, but it was not till twelve days after their departure from Calais
that Bluemantle summoned the town. "Verily, my lord, it was a
stronghold; the ditches on the outside were so deep that a man walking
and looking into them feared for falling to come nigh to the banks;
gaily wooded upon the banks and bushed with quick-set every corner, and
wide walls and other full of great bulwarks, and beside the walls in the
inside mightily fortified with great trenches, many bulwarks made with
timber and earth, and in certain places of the said trenches sundry deep
pits for to have made fumigations, to the intent that men upon the
assaulting of the same should have been poisoned and stopped."[143] Thus
it was described by an eloquent Welshman, and before this stronghold the
English vanguard sat themselves down, awaiting the main ordinance which
was to come with the King. They could not secure their line of
communication with the Calais Pale, and on the 27th they tasted French
tactics when the garrisons from Boulogne and Montreuil cut in near
Ardres, and carried off 100 wagons of victuals escorted by 500 men. Two
hundred green and white coats lay on the field, but the only dead French
things were twenty horses.[144] The Flemish governor of Bethune gave the
English a poor character; they made "but easy their skultwachis" and the
Welshmen amongst them did great hurt to the Prince's subjects.[145]

  [141] C. S. P. Venice, ii. 250.

  [142] _Ibid._, i. 311.

  [143] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 4431.

  [144] _Ibid._, i. 4284; Cleopat. C., v. 64.

  [145] _Ibid._, i. 4322; Galba B., iii. 119.

On June 30, the day after a terrible storm which wrecked the shipping
and ruined much victual, the watchmen on the Tour du Guet at Calais saw
the King's fleet approaching before the north wind, a sight such as
Neptune had never seen before, and at once there was such a firing of
guns from ships and walls and ringing of bells from the towers that
"you would have thought the world was coming to an end." From the deck
of his beloved _Mary Rose_, the fastest sailer in the fleet, Henry
passed by the Lanternegate through the streets of Calais in procession,
headed by the bishops and priests, to the church of St. Nicholas to give
thanks for his safe crossing, and returned to his lodging at the Staple
to give the unpopular order for the burning of "little Whitesand," whose
villagers had the day before plundered an English ship driven ashore in
the storm. The soldiers were ashamed to do the work.[146] For the next
three weeks Henry amused himself well at Calais, practising archery with
his guard and beating them all, holding revels and receiving embassies
from Flanders, the Duke of Brunswick and the Emperor. Maximilian
suggested that as conquest was their object, they should cut into the
heart of the matter at once, and Henry should meet him at Rheims, to be
there sacred King of France,[147] a suggestion which did not appear as
absurd to Henry "King of France" as it does to us. But Henry had come
out to fight, and now with his army swelled by 8000 German mercenaries,
"who did not respect churches," the host set out led by Maximilian's
guides in leisurely disorder, all along the line the baggage, drawn by
English horses, muddled with the ordnance and its Flemish mares. The
first night in camp it simply poured and the tents were hardly
protection, but Henry was up all night, no doubt boyishly pleased at
tasting at last the hardships of real war, and rode about the camp at
three in the morning to visit the watch and comfort them with a "Well,
comrades, a bad beginning means a good ending, God willing." The
low-lying country drained by broad ditches which served the folk as
water-ways, was deep in mud, and the tracks were almost impassable. One
of the guns called the "twelve apostles," cast in Flanders, was lost in
a pond and the Frenchmen hanging invisible on the flank of the army, cut
to pieces the party sent back to extricate it. De Piennes now threw
himself across the King's line of march, and next morning Henry in
person drew up the army in a fog so dense that nothing could be seen.
When it cleared away there were the French, who challenged any
Englishman to single combat, and many encounters took place, "a pleasant
sight if a man's skin had not been in hazard." Afterwards the engagement
became general, and the Welsh put the French to flight, and yet another
apostle fell into the enemy's hands.[148] Not till August 1, was the
royal camp pitched before Therouenne, and what a camp! "Peter Corse,
merchant of Florens" did his best with his 578 men at 6d. a day to make
it notable with canvas, blue buckram, whited Normandy cloth, Brussels'
saye, green saye and red saye, with signs and fringes and ribbons. The
King's retinue had forty-six halls or tents varying from 24 × 12 ft. to
15 × 15 ft., each flying its sign of the Red Rose, the Red Rose and
White, the Flower de Lyce, the Moon, the Red, the Blue, the Green, the
White, the Gold, and the Black Shield, and so on. Sir Thomas Windham,
the Treasurer, flew the Annewe of Gold, the Yellow Face was kept for
strange ambassadors, while in the Chalice the chaplains sang mass openly
for the host, and there was one provided with beds "for the surgeons to
dress men."[149] The King's own lodging was a veritable canvas house,
the different rooms connected by passages 10 ft. wide. "The King, for
himself, had a house of timber with a chimney of iron, for his other
lodgings he had great and goodly tents of blue water-work garnished with
yellow and white, divers rooms within the same for all offices
necessary; on the top of the pavilions stood the King's beasts holding
fanes, as the Lion, the Dragon, the Greyhound, the Antelope, the Dun
Cow; within, all the lodging was painted full of suns rising."[150]
Little doubt Queen Katharine had insisted on the wooden sleeping house
(and with surprising thriftiness the hut used in the Court revels was
sent over), for her letters attest her almost maternal anxiety for his
health and life, with these "nothing can come amiss to him."[151] The
field was gay with banners, ensigns and flags of every description:
every gentleman from knight to earl flew his own, but the weather was
very foul, and it rained night and day, and everything gorgeous was

  [146] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 4284; Cleopat. C., v. 64.

  [147] _Ibid._, i. 4355; Galba B., iii. 126.

  [148] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 4284; Cleopat. C., v. 64.

  [149] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 4629.

  [150] Hall's Chronicle, _ed._ 1809, p. 543.

  [151] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 4398; Calig. D., vi. 93.

The ordnance was planted as soon as it lumbered in from the muddy ways,
bombards, apostles, curtews, culverins, Nurembergs, lizards, minions and
port-guns, and the houses inside the town were "very sore beaten with
guns, and such importunate and continual shot made with guns into the
same, that no person might stir in the streets."[152] The besieged were
not idle, however, and not a day passed without victims in the English
camp to a certain turf-covered rampart on the walls, where were the most
deadly guns, and daily the garrison sallied forth and did damage, and
messengers covered by the sally even rode through the English camp and
away. The French light horse, stradiots and others, hovered round the
camp cutting off stragglers, attacking convoys, and never coming to a
decisive engagement, nor exposing themselves unnecessarily. They had
opportunity to exercise their tactics for the camp, ruled by "deux
opiniâtres," Lisle and Wolsey, who were as new to the business as Henry
himself, was badly kept, and the soldiers were so mad against the
French, and so eager that they often ventured too hardily.[153] Henry
was the keenest of the whole army, too keen for his wife's peace of
mind, and Wolsey had to write and reassure her.[154]

  [152] _Ibid._, i. 4431.

  [153] Lettres de Louis XII., iv. 189.

  [154] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 4365; Calig. D., vi. 92.

Since Henry's arrival the Emperor had been at Oudenarde, but at last
feeling sure that the English King was wasting both time and treasure at
Therouenne for lack of expert advice,[155] and moreover to justify his
wages, after a farewell supper with the Archduchess at Sotenghien, he
set out for Aire, while the Lady Margaret by easy stages made for St
Omer with her whole council, who were scared to death at this near
approach to the field.[156] Henry rode to Aire to meet Maximilian on
August 10, eager for his first sight of _l'ami_. It poured torrents, and
the interview was short.[157] The contrast must have been striking
between the rather shabby looking man of medium height clad in black
velvet, white-faced, wide-nosed, grey-bearded, a frank shrewd glance and
amiable manner,[158] but with an indescribable carriage of dignity which
marked him above all; and the auburn-haired, blue-eyed, ruddy young
giant towering above him, clad no doubt in his favourite cloth of gold,
and boyishly frank in his greeting. Everyone seems to have felt the
charm of Henry's bluff unsuspicious manner, and Maximilian was no
exception, "for during the whole journey the Emperor showed the greatest
condescension, declaring publicly that he came to be of use to the King
of England, and calling the King at one time his son, at another his
King, and at another his brother."[159] Maximilian had a well developed
dramatic sense, and he enjoyed playing the part of hired captain and
chief military adviser to the splendid young King whose magnificence and
extravagance, only equalled by his naïve inexperience, impressed the
frugal and penniless Emperor. So "the King's highness and the Emperor be
together and have every other's counsel with the most amiable loving
wise that can be thought."[160]

  [155] _Ibid._, i. 4389; Vitell. B., xviii. 56.

  [156] _Ibid._

  [157] _Ibid._, i. 4284; Cleopat. C., v. 64.

  [158] _Ibid._

  [159] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 4284; Cleopat. C., v. 64.

  [160] _Ibid._, i. 4431; MS. _apud_ Sir John Trevelyan.

From the moment the Emperor came into the camp on August 12, to visit
the trenches, things began to march. The evening before Ross Herald had
brought the defiance of the King of Scots, and for all reply from Henry
had got, "Let him do it in God's name!" for the Scottish march was well
guarded. Two days afterwards Henry, anxious in spite of his impatient
bravado, was _très joyeux_ at the news sent by the Swiss that they were
on the point of entering France. 'Twas a good answer to Ross, and
increased the ardour of the captains for the assault of Therouenne.
Maximilian was averse to the attempt, but Henry and his council had set
their hearts on it, saying they could hardly raise the siege without
loss of prestige,[161] and every man said in his heart, Remember
Guyenne. A few days before Captain de Fonterailles had managed to throw
men into the town, and at last the Emperor gave way and, preparatory to
the assault, ordered the camp to be moved across the stream towards
Guingate. This was hardly accomplished at dawn, when the alarm was given
that the French were approaching.[162] It was a convoy of provisions and
they sent forward a large company to draw off the English, as they had
done once before. The accounts of the battle are as usual confusing. It
would seem from the French account that having thrown in the victuals
they were returning in careless disorder, hawking in the fields, their
leaders riding without helmets on small horses and mules, when the
English fell on them from an ambuscade. The English account says Henry
followed the French all day and then attacked.[163] What probably
happened was that the Emperor who refused to have his standard spread,
saying he was the servant of the King and St George, "with 2000 men kept
them at bay until 4 P.M.,"[164] by which time Henry having turned their
position at a place called Bomye[165] (the camp was Guingate), attacked
them unexpectedly, utterly routed them, and took many prisoners of great
price. This was on Tuesday, August 16. Henry was mad with joy,
especially at the number and quality of the prisoners to whom he gave
good greeting on their arrival at camp. Louis d'Orléans, Duc de
Longueville and Marquis de Rothelin, was the most important, and him
Henry clad in a gown of cloth of gold, and on going to table caused him
to be served with water for his hands and to dine with him. The Duke
said, "Sir, I will not." The King rejoined, "you are my prisoner and
must do so," and displayed great graciousness.[166] After Longueville
came in importance M. de Boissi, nephew of the late Cardinal of Rouen,
who was taken but concealed against the laws of honour by Lord Walham,
son of Lord Berghes, for use in treating with Gueldres.[167] Prisoners
of condition were expected to pay 4000 ducats, but the King always
reduced it to 2000 saying to the captor, "I'll pay the rest." A common
soldier was worth 20 ducats, and if he had this on him he was merely
stripped and set at liberty,[168] but in spite of all Henry's care there
were the usual quarrels between Almains and English over their captures.
All the more important prisoners were sent to Aire on the way to
England, and Katharine was rather upset at having to provide lodgings
for Longueville in the midst of her preparations to meet the Scots. She
sent him to the Tower till she had more leisure.[169]

  [161] Lettres de Louis XII., iv. 192.

  [162] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 4284; Cleopat. C., v. 64.

  [163] _Ibid._, i. 4431.

  [164] Lettres de Louis XII., iv. 195.

  [165] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 4431.

  [166] C. S. P. Venice, ii. 288.

  [167] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 4418; Galba B., iii. 88.

  [168] C. S. P. Venice, ii. 288.

  [169] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 4432.

The battle of the Spurs decided the fate of Therouenne, and on the 22nd
Pontdormi, captain of the garrison, demanded a parley, at which terms of
surrender were agreed on with the Earl of Shrewsbury, and on St
Bartholomew's Eve, August 23, the garrison marched out through the camp
in the sight of the Emperor and Henry, with banners flying, helmets on
their heads and lances on their thighs, 4000 as fine soldiers as any
prince would wish to have,[170] having prudently destroyed their guns
before leaving. Next day, St Bartholomew's, their majesties entered the
city. Maximilian effaced himself with his usual politic good-nature, and
Henry rode through the gates unlocked by the Earl of Shrewsbury, a
veritable St George clad in gilt and graven armour, his coat of silver
damask and white satin, his horse's trappings the same, with red
crosses. Close behind him came Lord Lisle also in silver and white, and
after him "a goodly company of estates, men-at-arms, henchmen all richly
apparelled" in green velvet and cloth of silver. At the gate he was met
by Maximilian, dressed in black velvet with only six henchmen as
sombrely clad, who came as a private person (though the town was claimed
as Burgundian) and together they entered the city. The streets were
filled with people and along the way to the Cathedral, where again the
Emperor yielded the place of honour, they pressed about Henry crying,
"Welcome, most merciful King." After an anthem to Our Lady and another
to St George sung in the King's Chapel of the Cathedral, the procession
returned to the gates where their majesties separated, Maximilian
returning to Aire and Henry to his camp. In spite of Henry's promise to
treat the inhabitants as his own subjects, the city was claimed by the
Burgundians and handed over to them. They destroyed it with fire, and
then Henry set 800 labourers to blow up and pull down the fortifications
so that one stone did not rest on another, and only the Cathedral
remained. From Aire Maximilian retired to Lille, leaving Henry at
Guinegate, for he made war with ceremony, and the spirit of the middle
ages lingered in his camp, so that by the law of arms, "for in case any
man should bid battle for the besieging and getting of any city or town,
then the winner to give battle and to abide for certain days,"[171] he
was compelled to remain on the field awaiting the pleasure of the enemy.
But though he remained a week at Guingate the French did not seek him
out, and he followed the Emperor to Lille.

  [170] _Ibid._, i. 4284; Cleopat. C. v. 64.

  [171] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 4431.

Henry and Maximilian had dined, and drank, and amused each other like
brothers, and Maximilian had fallen in love with Mary's picture and said
he would like to have her for himself[172] now that he was again in the
marriage market. He had also dangled the imperial crown before Henry's
eyes so that the King not only dreamed of entering Paris in triumph, but
saw himself Emperor of Germany. But Maximilian was not there for a
picnic only, and he and Wolsey had also come to understand each other.
In fact Maximilian for the moment "was taken for another man than he was
before thought,"[173] and the negotiations for the near marriage of Mary
and Charles went on satisfactorily. Margaret offered to come and join
the conference at Aire, but the Emperor's servants were more satisfied
with her room than her presence for they could rule him more easily
without her, so she sent Lord Berghes to represent her and to know the
Emperor's pleasure when she should meet the King.[174] The Spanish
agents were hovering about, and Margaret desired to prevent Henry's
resentment coming to open rupture with Ferdinand, so she wrote sharp
letters to her father telling him not to whet the edge of Henry's anger,
and to Henry's agent she said that she was satisfied that all the
default lay with the Spaniards "but she is always of opinion that your
grace should dissemble and cherish them if any other way cannot be
found."[175] So sharp were her letters that Maximilian said if she wrote
like that again he would take the government out of her hands.[176] By
September 5, the preliminaries were satisfactorily arranged; a treaty of
alliance had been signed by Maximilian, Henry and Ferdinand; Maximilian
had been paid in full for his services under St George[177]; and Henry
set out for Lille where he was to meet Margaret. On the 11th the town
rising like an island out of the marsh[178] was reached. The English
encamped at a short distance from it, and when things were in order
thither came the Lord Ravenstein "which after his humble reverence done,
showed the King that the young Prince of Castile, Charles, and the Lady
Margaret, governess of the said Prince, most heartily desired him for
his pastime after his long travail to come and repose in his town of
Lille and to see his brother the prince and the ladies of the court of
Burgundy, saying that it became not ladies to visit him in his martial
camp which to them was terrible." Indeed Margaret told her father that
nothing would induce her to "troter et aller visiter les camps pour le
plaisir."[179] The King "gentelly" accepted the invitation, and "mounted
on a courser his apparel and barde were cloth of silver of small
quadrant cuttes traversed and edged with cut cloth of gold, the border
set full of red roses, his arms fresh and set with jewels," he set out
accompanied by the faithful Lisle and followed by Sir Harry Guildford
and the henchmen. They were convoyed by Ravenstein and many noblemen.
About a mile out of the town they met the burgesses of Lille who
presented Henry with the keys of the town, which Henry graciously
returned saying he trusted them no less than his own subjects. After
this came the nobles of Flanders, Brabant, Holland and Hainault to
salute him, and further on Count Frederic of the Palatinate. In fact
such a crowd was on the road that it was a wonder any were left in the
town, girls offered crowns and sceptres and garlands, while outlaws and
malefactors with white wands in their hands besought pardon. At last
through the throng the gates were reached, where stood the captain of
the town with the well-appointed garrison, and the procession headed by
Henry's sword and mace-bearers pressed through the narrow street of the
city set, though it was broad day, on each side with burning torches, so
that there was scarce room for the riders to pass to the palace. Gay
tapestries hung from the houses and at frequent intervals there were
divers goodly pageants of the histories of the Old and New Testaments
and of the poets. At the door of the Gothic palace built by Jean Sans
Peur were waiting the Emperor, Lady Margaret and the Prince of Castile,
"who humbly saluted him, and then for reverence of the Emperor the King
caused his sword to be put up and his maces to be laid down, and then
the King and all other nobles lodged and feasted."[180]

  [172] C. S. P. Venice, ii. 292 and 301.]

  [173] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 4417; Calig. D., vi. 94.]

  [174] Ibid., 4418; Galba B., iii. 88.]

  [175] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 4433.

  [176] Le Glay Lettres de Maximilien et Marguerite d'Autriche, ii.

  [177] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 4435.

  [178] _Ibid._, 4284.

  [179] Le Glay, _op. cit._ ii. 203.

  [180] Hall's Chronicle, _ed._ 1809, p. 553; L. and P. H. VIII.,
  i. 4284; Cleopat. C., v. 64.

But their travail was not yet ended, for the city of Tournay was to be
reduced to submission. The Tournois were a double-faced folk, the nobles
were for Burgundy, the merchants and people for France, and the city
had not made submission on the death of Charles the Bold but had claimed
freedom under French protection. They had been thick with the French
while assuring Burgundy of their loyalty, and now they were to take
their punishment at the hands of Burgundy's magnificent ally. On the
15th, after the Lille meeting, when Henry and his favourite captured
Margaret's heart, the English camp was pitched under the walls of
Tournay, a city whose beauty "no one can conceive who has not seen
it,"[181] what with its bridges over the Schalde, its water-mills, its
splendid buildings. From out its three miles circumference rose ninety
towers and it was second only to Paris in population. Guns were sent by
water from Lille, to batter down its stone towers and iron gates, and
the Emperor ordered his to come from Malines, and Taylor, whose diary
for this whole journey is invaluable, makes no mention of Henry's being
mock ones, as the legend runs. Contemporary chronicles are also silent
on what would have become a world-known jest, and the wooden guns in the
Tower must have some other origin. It may be true that the Tournois were
terrified at the sight of the artillery, and yielded, but certainly not
before the city had been much battered, and Lisle had rushed and
occupied one of the gates, carrying away as trophies two of the images
from its niches[182]; but it is much more probable that the news of
Flodden Field, brought by Rougecroix on the 16th, in Katharine's
exultant letters, was the true cause. All was rejoicing in the English
camp. Mass was celebrated in the state pavilion of purple and gold, and
the Te Deum sung for the victory. The bishop of St Asaph preached, and
one can imagine the gist of the sermon, for if the Queen attributed the
victories of the English armies wholly to Henry's piety what argument
would a Tudor bishop be likely to follow! Henry and Brandon rode off to
Lille to carry the news to Margaret, and the King sat in her lodging
singing and playing the cyther and the flute, and then danced with her
ladies and drew the bow with her gentlemen. His spirits were so high
that all the way back he raced and played with his escort.[183] A few
days later came John Glyn with the pathetic confirmation of the death of
James IV.--his plaid embroidered with the arms of Scotland, now all
bloody. And Katharine with feminine ferocity wrote, "in this your Grace
shall see how I can keep my promise, sending you for your banners a
king's coat."[184] Henry was exultant, St George had indeed granted his
servant victories! And next day the keys of Tournay were handed over.
Thus a second time within a month the King made a triumphal entry into a
captured town, and on Sunday, September 25, the Council of the city met
him, again clad as St George, at the Porte Ste. Fontaine, "their horses
and mules having the English arms painted on paper before them." The
King there passed under a canopy of gold and silk prepared by the
inhabitants in great haste, and carried by the principal burgesses, and
thence along the high street St. Jacques, the citizens all bearing wax
torches, and down the rue Notre Dame to the Cathedral, "where he saluted
God and St Mary,"[185] and then, as he stood under his banner in the
church he made many knights. He went to his lodging to the sound of
bells, for every one in the city was rung, and to shouts of "vive le
roi."[186] Henry exacted 50,000 crowns from the city as fine, and
cleared the surrounding _bailliage_ of the French, who went away so fast
that they could not be pursued.[187]

  [181] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 4284; Cleopat. C., v. 64.

  [182] _Ibid._, i. 4459; Harl. 3462, 32_b_.

  [183] C. S. P. Venice, ii. 311.

  [184] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 4451; Vesp. F., iii. 15.

  [185] _Ibid._, i. 4467; Archæol., xxvii. 258.

  [186] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 4284; Cleopat. C., v. 64.

  [187] _Ibid._, i. 4502; Vatican Trans., Add. MSS. 15,387, 4, B.M.

  (ABOUT 1528)]

On the following day, Monday, the Emperor and the Lady Margaret, with a
splendid suite of ladies in chariots and gentlemen on horseback, came
into the city by torchlight, and negotiations for the marriage were
reopened in earnest. Henry and Lisle had both been as eager to see
Margaret as she to see them. The day after the battle of the Spurs her
_maître d'hôtel_ Philippe de Brégilles, whom she had sent to the camp at
Therouenne, had written to her: "Madame, le roi ce soir a fort pressé
l'Empereur de vous haster de venir, toutefois devant votre arrivée je
vous dirai aucunes choses que le roi m'a dit desquelles me députe de
vous écrire. Madame, le Grand-Ecuyer, milord Lyle, est venu à moi me
prier que de lui vousise faire ses très humbles recommandations et que
de bon cœur désirrait de vous faire service. Je croy que savez assez
que c'est le second roi, et me semble que ne serait que bon de lui
écrire une bonne lettre, car c'est lui qui fait et deffait."[188] No
doubt the "bonne lettre" was written, and Margaret, having seen Lisle at
Lille and approved, came to Tournay with the idea in her mind of using
Brandon, "cet opiniâtre," who did and undid all, to further her plans
for the reduction of Gueldres and the protection of the Burgundian
frontiers against France by English means. If she had approved at
Lille, on further acquaintance both Henry and Brandon pleased her
immensely; Henry because of the irresistible charm of his youthful
frankness, courtesy and good-nature, "entirely good and thinketh no
evil,"[189] and Lisle "because of the virtue and grace of his person,
the which me seemed that I had not much seen gentleman to approach it;
also considering the desire he always showed me that he had to do me
service." Her task seemed an easy one, and while Wolsey and Fox debated
with Berghes and Hans Reynner the terms of the marriage treaty, she was
flirting diplomatically with Lord Lisle, and beguiling the King, who
even promised to settle the succession on his sister in case of his
having no heirs of his body. But before the time came for her departure
from Tournay, probably before the coming of Prince Charles on October
10, she was conscious that feelings other than political had been
brought into play. The fact was that neither Henry nor Brandon had ever
met a young woman who made her own life and governed others, and they
misinterpreted Margaret's evident pleasure in Lisle's society and her
courteous treatment of him as proceeding not from cool diplomacy but
from her interest in the man. "I have always forced me to do him all
honour and pleasure," she said, "the which to me seemed to be well
agreeable unto the King, his good master." This certainly was Margaret's
first attitude, but force seems later to have passed into desire. The
change from the ceremonious tranquillity of the Court at Malines, with
its environment of old regrets, to the stirring atmosphere of the
youthful Court with its insular unconventionality, made Margaret no
doubt feel young again, and as she flirted with Lisle, the idea of a
match between the two was mooted, either by the King or favourite. She
must have looked most attractive, with her fair hair, brown eyes and
clear colour, her face lighting up in conversation, and her gay laugh.
Margaret knew neither English nor Flemish, and the Earl knew, or
pretended to know, no French, her usual tongue, but evidently a few
Flemish words, so that the King was "trwchman," or interpreter, and
Margaret hints that his translations might have been warmer than the
original warranted, "because of the love which he beareth him." One
night--she herself relates the incident--at Tournay, after a banquet, a
trwchman was needed. Brandon, on his knees before her playing with her
hands, drew from her finger a ring she had long been accustomed to wear,
and put it on his own. "Larron," she called him, laughing, and said she
had not "thought the King had with him led thieves out of his country.
This word _larron_ he could not understand: wherefore I was constrained
to ask how one said larron in Flemish. And afterwards I said to him in
Flemish _dieffe_, and I prayed him many times to give it to me again,
for that it was too much known." But Brandon kept his loot till next
day, when Margaret spoke to Henry and said she would give one of the
bracelets she always wore to have it back again, for it was too well
known. So Lisle returned it and got the bracelet. Then Henry, either
just before or after this incident, astonished her by asking whether she
would stretch her goodwill towards Lisle to a promise of marriage, as
was the fashion of the ladies of his country. It needed all Margaret's
tact to answer graciously, for she said, "I knew well that it came to
him of great love to speak so far forth as of marriage. And of another
prince I had not so well taken it as of him, for I hold him all good and
that he thinketh none evil, wherefore I have not willed to displeasure
him." Therefore she answered vaguely at first that it was not the custom
in this country, and that if she did it she would be dishonoured and
held as a fool and light, also she feared her father. What, indeed,
would the Weiss König have said had his daughter mated with a squire of
England, a jerry-built viscount, after refusing its King! Still, now
that Henry had shown his whole hand Margaret knew what tricks would fall
to her, and had she not been _éprise_ of Lisle, she would certainly in
all prudence have drawn back and at least considered the situation. It
is a comment on the personal quality of political relations that
Margaret says she dared not say openly that she would have none of Lisle
for a husband for fear of offending the King. So she temporized, and
probably her more than sub-conscious reason was her growing attachment
to the Grand-Ecuyer. There's not the shadow of a doubt that Margaret was
taken with Brandon, but that she ever intended to marry is another
matter. To Henry's vicarious wooing she says she answered that she
herself was willing, but she durst not do so, and hinted that she would
go away and "it would be to me too much displeasure to lose so good
company." So "he passed the thing into his departing." But when the time
for Margaret's return to Lille drew nigh, in her room late at night he
returned to the charge, saying that he knew well "she would be pressed
for to marry her, and that she was too young to abide as she was: and
that the ladies of his country did remarry at fifty and three-score
years." She sighed and said she had been too unhappy in husbands to
marry again. Henry brushed this aside with, "I know well, Madame, and am
sure that my fellow shall be to you a true servant, and that he is
altogether yours, but we fear that ye shall not do likewise, for one
shall force you to be again married: and that you shall not be found
(save) out of the country at my return." So she gave what she says was
an easily given promise not to marry till she saw him again, for she had
made up her mind, "not again to put me where I have had so much
unhappiness and misfortune," and Lisle swore on his part, standing with
her hand in his, "to be true to her, to take no lady nor mistress, but
to continue all his life her humble servant, which was enough honour for

  [188] Lettres de Louis XII., iv. 196.

  [189] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 4851; Titus B., i. 142. For the
  whole episode, unless otherwise noted.

By this time Wolsey and Fox had settled the treaties, and Prince Charles
had arrived, "a boy of great promise,"[190] whose conversation delighted
Henry. He only stayed two days, long enough to see how the land lay with
his aunt for all her protestations of diplomatic pastime, and was
present at a grand tournament held in the public place amid torrents of
rain, where the King and Lisle challenged all comers and kept the
barriers, and the King excelled all in agility as in person, and broke
more spears than any other.

  [190] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 4284; Cleopat. C., v. 64.

Two days later the army left Tournay, where the soldiers had remained
too long in idleness, contracting very heavy expenses, and Henry went to
Lille to sign his sister's marriage treaty. There Margaret was
determined that her entertainment should not be ruined by the rain, and
held her tournament in a large room raised above the ground many steps
and paved with black stones like marble. The horses, to prevent their
slipping and to deaden the noise of their hoofs, had their shoes covered
with felt.[191] The tournament over, the lords and ladies danced, and
Lisle renewed his suit to Margaret. Again he was on his knees before
her, playing with her hands, and again he took possession of her diamond
ring, but this time all Margaret's entreaties could not get it back, and
Henry, when appealed to, failed to see her point that it was its
notoriety and not its value that urged her. He carelessly promised her
another better, and next day, before setting out, Brandon brought her
"one fair point of diamonds and a table ruby and showed me that it was
for the other ring: wherefore I durst no more speak of it, if not to
beseech him that it should not be showed to any person." Brandon gave
the promise, which was ill-kept, and went away with the ring and
bracelet and troth renewed between them in the little ante-room the
night before. Margaret had undertaken the education at her Court at
Malines of his little daughter Anne,[192] whom he now left with her
under the care of his cousin, William Sidney.

  [191] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 4284.

  [192] Lettres de Louis XII., iv. 308.

Two treaties were signed at Tournay, one between Henry and the Emperor
against France and for the marriage of Mary and Charles, and the other
between Margaret, in the name of Maximilian, and Henry, allowing the
latter to return into England after leaving a sufficient garrison in
Tournay, on condition of contributing 200,000 crowns of gold for the
Emperor's expenses in supporting 4000 horse and 6000 foot, in Artois
and Hainault. In her hands Margaret held a promise, "en parole de roi,"
written by Wolsey's hand, and signed by the King, never to make nor
conclude peace or truce with the common enemy, the French, without the
knowledge of his "bonne sœur and cousine," on condition that she did
the like."[193]

  [193] Lettres de Louis XII., iv. 355.



Henry had arranged with Margaret that the marriage of Mary and the
Prince should take place at Calais in six months' time, on May 15, and
for that purpose he began making arrangements on his usual splendid
scale on his return from Flanders. What Mary had been doing during the
months of her brother's absence can only be conjectured. Probably she
had been busy like Queen Katharine, sewing banners and ensigns for the
army to be sent against the Scots. She did not accompany her
sister-in-law when she moved further North, just before Flodden. There
is hardly a mention of her in any of the few letters of the year. Once
she wrote to Margaret of Savoy thanking the duchess for some patterns of
Flemish gowns, and once she received a formal letter from the Prince. On
Twelfth Night (1514) at Richmond there was the usual disguising and
play, and a lady called Beauty, and one called Venus, clad in surcoat
and mantle of yellow sarcenet, with hearts and wings of silver,
delighted the Court. The piece was, as usual, allegorical, and possibly
the ladies represented the Duchess of Savoy and the Lady Mary. There is
no mention of the Princess by name, but, following her custom and that
of her brother, they were both probably among the mummers.


Mary had now reached her full height, and was short for a Tudor, though
the English head-dress added about three inches to her stature, and
plump like her mother. Gerard de Pleine, writing to his mistress at
Malines, describes her as one of the prettiest girls he had ever seen or
hoped to see. "She has the most gracious and elegant carriage in
conversation, dancing, or anything else that it is possible to have, and
is not a bit melancholy, but lively. I am convinced that if you had once
seen her you would not cease till you had her near you. I assure you she
has been well brought up, and she must always have heard Monsieur well
spoken of, for by her words and manner, and also from those who surround
her, it seems to me she loves him wonderfully. She has a picture of him,
very badly done, but there is no day in the world but they tell me she
wishes to see him ten times a day, and if you want to please her, you
must talk of the prince. I should have thought she had been tall and
well developed, but she will be only of medium height, and seems to me
much better suited both in age and person for Monsieur than I had heard
tell before I saw her, and better than any princess that I know of in
Christendom. She is quite young, and in two years she will hardly be as
ripe as Likerke or Fontaine. I can only say again that in good-nature,
beauty and age, the like does not exist in Christendom."[194] For five
years she had been Princess of Castile in England, and now was
approaching the hour when she was to become a reigning princess, with
the probability of far greater honours. This year was to be the critical
one in her life, and in January occurred the event which first altered
its course. Anne of Brittany, wife of Louis XII., died, "underly
lamented," sneered a spy, and was laid beside her former husband at St
Denis. The English Court swarmed with French prisoners, and their
friends and retainers. French manners had always prevailed in the Court
of Henry VII., and the French tongue had been the usual one of the King;
he preferred foreign household servants, and his son, fierce as he was
against the French, kept a French cook. Henry VIII.'s Court had always
been gay, and in the reaction from the frigid etiquette prescribed by
the Countess of Richmond, manners had become as free as in the time of
his grandfather, Edward IV. Bessie Blount, afterwards mother of Henry's
son, the little Duke of Richmond, young Mistress Carew, wife of Sir
Nicholas Carew, Mistress Jane Popincourt, added to the gay flutterings,
and Louis de Longueville was amongst the most careless, as he played
with the King for his ransom, and won the greater part. His intrigue
with Jane Popincourt was fairly notorious, and she was, as has been
related, one of the circle of the Princess of Castile, having been
brought up with her. Mary said, many years afterwards, that she regarded
her as one of her own relatives, but her reputation was such that Louis
XII. refused on hearsay to have her at his Court, and said he would
rather she were burnt for her wickedness. There seem to have been
changes in Mary's entourage about this time, but her ladies and the
Queen's, including the five Elizabeths,[195] up to now had been of the
old school, and some had served her mother, while Mother Guildford, as
Lady Joan Guildford was familiarly called, her Governess, was the very
epitome of the Richmond school of propriety and etiquette. She had but
lately retired on pension from the service of the Princess, whom no
doubt she had done her best to guide through the dangerous ways of the
Court of a young and lusty King. With such surroundings one can hardly
expect the little Princess to have been that paragon of womanly virtues
described by Mrs Green. She had laughed and danced and sung her life
through, sometimes ill and under her physician's care, and, as has
already been said, save in the French language, and music and dancing,
she does not seem to have received any education, but her manners were
perfect, thanks to her grandmother and Mother Guildford. The grandmother
of Lady Jane Grey, that marvel of youthful scholarship and virtue, was
just now a charming little butterfly, "sy mennuet et sy douset"[196]
that she took all men's hearts by storm in public or private. The
learning of the Renaissance had not touched her, indeed, never did, and
she was ignorant of the intellectual refinements of continental courts.
If she had not all the sterner virtues, nor a reasoned imagination, she
had the kindest heart in the world and the most faithful, with a high
courage to fight a losing game. Like Margaret of Savoy, she would have
melted her most precious pearls to make a potion for her dying husband,
and probably, as no doubt did Margaret, killed him by the heroic
self-sacrifice. She was pious in the colourless sense of the word, and
had been brought up to observe strictly all fasts and feasts of the
Church, and, like most women, was influenced by her confessor. She
believed in astrology and witchcraft, and had the normal mental outlook
of her century. No doubt, latterly, she had been influenced by her
sister-in-law, Katharine, who, however much she may have adapted
herself to English customs and relaxed her prejudices in her love for
her husband, never quite forgot the tradition of the dignified etiquette
of her Spanish girlhood.

  [194] Lettres de Louis XII., iv. 335.

  [195] Book of the King's Payments, Exc. T.R., 215, R.O.

  [196] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 4953; Add. MSS. 21,382.53.

After her brother's return Mary was ill for some time, and in the
doctor's hands[197] for ten weeks. Whatever the cause, she probably had
enough resemblance to her sister Margaret of Scotland to find great
consolation, if not an impetus towards health, in the new gowns of her
trousseau, and all its attendant magnificence. It was a marvellous
affair. Seven hundred and ninety three pounds and nine pence (Tudor
value) were paid at one fell swoop for pieces of cloth of gold for her
gowns and furniture, and later comes another thousand pounds worth and
more of silks, velvets of divers colours, green and white, silver,
damask, and more cloth of gold.[198] It dazzles the eyes to read.
Florentine looms were busy, and the Italian merchants in England were
doing a thriving trade. All these were to be made up in the Flemish
fashion, and the Lady Margaret was asked to give her advice about the
cutting of them and the style of the garments.[199]

  [197] Book of the King's Payments, Exc. T.R., 215.

  [198] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. pp. 1463.

  [199] _Ibid._, i. 5139; Galba B., v. 10.

Marriages were in the air, and gossip early said three would take place
at Calais--Mary to the Prince, Margaret of Scotland to Maximilian, and
Margaret of Austria to Lisle, whom, on February 1, Henry created Duke of

  [200] C. S. P. Venice, ii. 371.

Before things got that length, however, much had happened, and the
Duchess of Savoy had been passing through the most wretched period of
her existence, for her pride had been sorely torn by the gossip which
her council took care should reach her ears and those of the Emperor,
and which gave Chièvres and the French party a pretext for attempting to
break off the English match. Her Flemish entourage had been considerably
annoyed at the intimacy between Lisle and the Governess of the
Netherlands, though Margaret assured them again and again that "that
which she had said and done was for not to annoy the King";[201] but
what they felt while they watched the exchange of vows at Lille, "at the
cupboard-head," was nothing to their sensations later on when the thing
became the gossip of Europe. That Margaret could for one moment have
imagined that such determined wooing would pass unnoticed is incredible,
but her distress at finding herself gossiped about in every country is a
proof of her belief in its secrecy. Protest her innocent intentions as
she would, the thing reached the Emperor;[202] the King of Aragon wrote
to ask if it were true;[203] the Venetian ambassador sent the news
home;[204] it was the common bruit of the staples, and the merchants
were betting on the marriage.[205] Chièvres must have exulted that his
adversary had been delivered into his hand, for as early as November
Margaret was pleading with her father for her honour, following "the
custom of her house," as she once said, and not mentioning the real
matter, but indicating it obliquely. At Henry's request changes had
been made in her Privy Council to outweigh the French element, and this
had been misliked. Floris d'Egmont, Lord Isselstein,[206] one of its
members, drew a pension from England, so probably did Berghes and
Hormistorffe and possibly Nassau, but Chièvres and St Py and their
following intrigued ceaselessly with France. They regarded Margaret as
an English agent, for letters which she had written to Brandon had been
ill kept, and her secret informations to Henry had filtered through to
the Spanish ambassador, and were none the clearer for the
filtering.[207] She felt abashed and disgraced before her own Court and
Council, and she finds "the publishing of the thing the most strange in
the world."[208] Her distress was increased when on inquiry she found
that the gossip had an English origin, and it is the strongest proof
that she really loved Brandon, this sorrow, not anger, of hers at
finding him careless of her honour in these matters. "I have been
constrained," she writes, "as well by the counsel of my servants as of
the Lord Berghes and others, to make enquiry whereof it came, and as
well by information as writing, always I have found that it proceeded
from England. Whereof I have had a marvellous sorrow. And I have letters
of the self hand of an English merchant, the which hath been the first
that hath made the wagers, as Brégilles knoweth well."[209]

  [201] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 4851; Titus B., i. 142.

  [202] Lettres de Louis XII., iv. 274.

  [203] C. S. P. Spain, ii. 177.

  [204] C. S. P. Venice, ii. 371.

  [205] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 4851; Titus B., i. 142.

  [206] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 5263; Galba B., iii. 210.

  [207] _Ibid._, i. 5117; Galba B., iii. 193.

  [208] _Ibid._, 1. 4851; Titus B., i. 142.

  [209] _Ibid._

The ink was scarcely dry on the treaties signed at Lille before the
intrigues with the French began to bear fruit. The frontier was
ill-guarded, and Margaret herself is said to have commanded the
garrisons to abstain from attacking the French; at the same time the
charges of the army were not diminished,[210] and many of the gens
d'armes drew their pay for active service while comfortably seated at
home.[211] Ferdinand, in spite of the treaty signed before Therouenne,
to which Henry had been persuaded by Margaret to admit him, was renewing
his peace with France, who was to give his second daughter to Don
Ferdinand of Austria, the Prince's brother, with Milan for dowry; to the
Emperor money and forces to recover the duchy, and to the Queen of
Aragon the Conté de Foix; further, he was to abandon Navarre to
Ferdinand and leave the Scots a prey to England. "Habes totam hanc
perfidiam." Pedro Quintana, Bishop of Catania, Ferdinand's secretary,
had been sent across France to the Emperor, and after conferring with
him in open secrecy, the English ambassador, Sir Robert Wingfield, being
kept entirely in the dark, had returned by the same way, so that when on
February 8 a truce was signed between France and Aragon, it was
conjectured to be a mere matter of time till the Emperor also joined it.
Margaret, who was Henry's firm friend, and devoted to the English cause
and marriage, implored her father to remember that Aragon was the only
one who had already pulled his chestnuts from the fire, and that no
profit would come to the Emperor. She reminded him that the only bulwark
of Burgundy against "la grande et invétérée inimitié que les Francais
portent à cette maison" is amity with her enemies, for between France
and Aragon are the mountains and England has the sea, and Henry now was
so powerful that he could make a separate and better peace if he liked.
His preparations for the new campaign, like those for the wedding, were
such as had never been made within the memory of man, and this was the
hour or never to overtop the enemy of Burgundy at the expense of
England. "I know, sir, that he has not the faintest thought of making a
truce, and that up to now he has not had, I am sure. But I am sure that
if he sees or suspects that you want to change the treaty concluded with
him, that will make him think what before he never thought, and the
thing is very dangerous, for he could always have a good treaty and
ample, and if he wanted to do it alone, it is clear he could do it
better than anyone else." "As for me, sir, I wish for peace as much as
any living person, provided it be good and sure; but otherwise it will
be to the loss and destruction of this house in the future, which God
forbid." Then she comes to the main point of her relations with Lisle:
"Sir, I know there are many people who desire nothing so much as to
break this friendship with England, and to do this, not knowing any
other means, have contrived certain tales 'de maulvaises paroles et
langaiges' which touch my honour, to put trouble between you, the said
King and myself; but, sir, be assured they are all lies, and that I
would rather have died a thousand times if it were possible than to have
thought of it, and only speak of it to take away this trouble between
us."[212] But in spite of all that Margaret could do or write, the
French party was in the ascendant, and she was discredited, for the
Emperor was backing Chièvres, who now practically ruled Charles, though
the "people about the Prince do not care much for the Emperor."[213] The
Council were already, in February, expecting information of the treaty
with France, "putting no doubt in the deliverance at this time of the
French King's daughter into their hands for the prince," and they hoped,
as the price of the marriage, that France would surrender Burgundy. The
"English" party were told there was no other way to live in peace, "and
that before the perfect age of the said daughter, the Prince shall be of
better experience and able to command and rule himself."[214] The
Emperor and the King of Aragon misliked this independent policy, but it
seemed likely to take effect, and Nassau, now openly French, thought
that they should have "the good deeds of the French and the others the
good words."[215] Margaret had still to fight for her prestige with her
father as well as with the Council, for Chièvres began to think he could
do anything with the Emperor, who in December had accepted his
daughter's "excuse" for her behaviour towards Lisle and Henry.[216] But
her further letters to Henry and Lisle, and her "secret advertisements,"
had been spied upon and told to her father, so that again she was "in
fear" and could not get into touch with him. Henry did not doubt her,
and she was probably one of the three channels by which he knew all the
Spanish secret practices.[217] But the atmosphere of her Court was
unbearable. She was regarded with suspicion by all her Council and spied
upon, and she could not speak openly to Sir William Sidney, whereof she
was more displeased than at anything else. "He himself perceiveth well
that everyone beholdeth him of the other side. As to the descent of the
King, it shall behove me to speak as soberly as I may me constrain, for
it is the thing that I desire as much as his coming. And the same for my
Lady Mary, as God knoweth. The heart me breaketh when it behoveth me to
dissemble not in this, but in many others. And it seemeth to me that I
may not so well serve the King, being in this fear, as before, so when
the King shall descend that I shall always be in this pain, and I fear
me I shall not dare speak or show good semblance to the said personage
(Lisle)."[218] Her frank nature, which loved outside diplomatic dealing,
to see and to say things as they were suffered acutely. So she sent
Brégilles to England.[219] In February, Henry had been ill with the
measles, and had been entertained during his convalescence by
Maximilian's offer of the Imperial Crown, presumably to dazzle him into
blindness to the Spanish intrigues, but, like the sacring at Rheims, it
was all nutshells. Brégilles went ostensibly to inquire for Henry's
health, but really to explain that something must be done "to avoid the
bruit," which was having such a disastrous effect on the policy of
Flanders.[220] Margaret said the only possible way, in her opinion, was
for Suffolk to marry the Lady Lisle, a child of nine years old,
Suffolk's ward, and the daughter and heiress of John Grey, late Lord
Lisle. This penance both Henry and Suffolk said was too much, for it was
not fair to bind the man to a contract which the child could repudiate
on coming of age; anything else but not that. So Henry wrote to the
Emperor expressing his astonishment that rumour had arisen of a possible
marriage between the Duchess of Savoy and the Duke of Suffolk, his "tres
leal cousin et conseiller."[221] He could not think how it came about
save as a device of certain "mauvais esprits de mettre quelque scrupule
entre vous et nous." He would search out the gossips on his side and
punish them. He did, and of course found them. They were examined in
presence of Brégilles by Wolsey and Suffolk, and it was proved beyond
doubt that the original letter was written by the nameless English
merchant while Henry was still at Tournay! So much for Margaret's
ostrich-like secrecy. Henry and Suffolk wanted to punish the unfortunate
gossips with death there and then, but Brégilles interposed. "Je leur ai
bien dit que votre volonté n'estoit point si vindicative et qu'ils ne
fissent nulle punition aux dits marchands quant au corps, sans avoir
nouvelles de vous: vous en manderez s'il vous plaît votre bon plaisir."
Suffolk offered to bring home his daughter, whose presence at Malines
might help to keep gossip alive, but Brégilles said his mistress did not
desire it, and would not think of such a thing. Henry and Mary and
Katharine all made so much of Brégilles that he was almost ashamed to
take the gifts showered upon him.[222]

  [210] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 4725; Galba B., iii. 148.

  [211] Lettres de Louis XII., iv. 257.

  [212] Le Glay, _op. cit._, ii. 225.

  [213] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 4789; Galba B., iii. 152.

  [214] _Ibid._

  [215] _Ibid._

  [216] Le Glay, _op. cit._, ii. 237.

  [217] Lettres de Louis XII., iv. 253.

  [218] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 4851; Titus B., i. 142.

  [219] _Ibid._, i. 4726.

  [220] Lettres de Louis XII., iv. 308.

  [221] Lettres de Louis XII., iv. 274.

  [222] _Ibid._, iv. 308.

The Emperor still sulked, and his daughter could make no headway with
the English marriage, and the Flemings sold guns and harness to the
Scots, and so openly favoured them as friends of France that Thomas
Spinelly, English agent at Brussels, suggested that a ship should be
secretly freighted in Zeeland with onions and apples to Scotland, with
some shrewd fellows on board to spy in the Scottish ports.[223] On March
31 the Council of Flanders had their way, and a treaty between France
and the Prince of Castile was signed[224] while the Emperor was still
deep in "confusse dealing."[225] This was practically the deathblow to
the Anglo-Castilian marriage. The French had won in spite of Margaret
and the Spanish ambassador, between whom and the Council had grown many
words. The same month the English embassy to Brussels for the arranging
of the details of the marriage had been sent off, and Margaret had made
it very clear that whoever should go on that embassy it was not to be
Suffolk. "I know that I may not show towards the personage the weal and
honour which I desire to do as before. For as yet I dare not write unto
him when I have anything to do towards the King, nor I dare not only
speak of him. And I am constrained to entreat him in all things like a
stranger, at the least before folks, the which doth me so much
displeasure that I cannot write it seeing that I take him so much for my
good friend and servant." Further on she says: "I shall not dare to
behold him with a good eye which displeasure shall be the same to him as
to me."[226] Only on his marriage with the child Lady Lisle was he to be
allowed to come into her presence. Suffolk had prepared a vast and
gorgeous equipage for the journey, and Henry said it would really cause
more gossip in England if he did not go, for it would need to be
explained publicly in Parliament,[227] but Margaret had her way, and
Suffolk's cousin, Sir Richard Wingfield, Deputy of Calais, was sent with
long instructions. He was to learn for the information of Richard
Gibson, then in Calais arranging the camp and houses, what personages
would attend on the Lady Margaret and the Prince of Castile at Calais.
He was to obtain numbers and names in writing, and also what etiquette
was to be observed. The King would provide all things for the Emperor,
the Prince, and my Lady, except beds, "which it is thought they will for
their better ease bring with them." Henry consulted Margaret in the
smallest detail, everything was to be as she desired, and sent a book
containing the provision of the Princess's apparel, her chamber, office
and stables. Cloth of every sort had been provided, "and my lady is to
devise for the making thereof after such manner as shall best please
her," and in queenly and honourable fashion. Above all, a definite
answer about the place of the wedding was to be demanded.[228]

  [223] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 4844; Galba B., iii. 156.

  [224] _Ibid._, i. 4924; Calig. E., i. 136.

  [225] _Ibid._ 4929, R. O.

  [226] _Ibid._, i. 4851; Titus B., i. 142.

  [227] Lettres de Louis XII, iv. 308.

  [228] L. and P. H. VIII., 5139; Galba B., v. 10.

Sir Richard and his companions found only Margaret on their side, for
the Council would gladly hinder the Prince's marriage "with the Lady
Mary, saying that he is a child and she a woman full grown."[229] In
fact, as the Venetian ambassador had said, "he wanted a wife and not a
mother."[230] They had it seems no doubt about Mary's real age. At the
same time that gossip was carried to the English Court of the intrigue
of the prince with Mdlle de Likerke, "a damsel of the court," at
Malines, Mary was reported of so amorous a nature that it would be
dangerous for Charles to marry her before he was full grown. Margaret
had sent over to find out the truth of this last rumour, and her agent
wrote: "Je vous ose bien dire que si ce n'était que toutes femmes sont
assez fortes, que Monsieur viendra bien au bout de cette ci, car y n'est
rien si mennuet ni si douset qu'elle est." If Monsieur could only speak
to her privately a little while, it is certain that "Likerke tornera le
rot au sort qu'il sera tout brulé,"[231] which rather obscure statement
may mean that the Flamande would be eclipsed easily by her rival. The
one "Englishman" on the Council denied Charles's interest in Likerke,
and reported that the Prince had said that Mary had been always his only
love,[232] but, on the other hand, Charles had "spoken suspicious
words," and he was young and surrounded by a young Council.[233] The
French ambassador was honourably received at Court, and there were many
ill rumours spread against England, most of them coming from France,
especially one which said the English could not hold Tournay for three
months. The feast of St George's day was not observed in any point, any
more than if the Prince did not belong to the Order. "The Archduchess is
sorry, but cannot oppose it, as the authority of France increases.
Unless the King looks to it, all these countries will be ruled by the
French."[234] Throughout the mission the English had no more courteous
sympathizer than the Aragonese ambassador: "I promise your Grace he
spareth not to answer your faithful servant. What they mean thereby God
knoweth." Wingfield became more insistent, and refused to be put off
longer with vague answers about the marriage, for it was now the end of
April, and the ceremony was timed for May 15. Chièvres still had the
Emperor's ear, he had bought it for 100,000 crowns,[235] and Margaret
wrote in vain that a definite answer could not be put off much longer,
but Maximilian preferred as usual to drive the time and let someone else
face the consequences. The English would accept no postponement, and
said the wedding must be at Calais, and Margaret, at her wits' end to
explain decently her father's variableness, "forged an excuse at
Malines," and, turning in the track of gossip, said she feared that if
the Prince married so young he might be disappointed of issue.[236]

  [229] _Ibid._, i. 4932; Galba B., iii. 143.

  [230] C. S. P. Venice, ii. 295.

  [231] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 4953; Add. MSS. 21, 382. 53.

  [232] _Ibid._, i. 5104; Galba B., iii. 191.

  [233] _Ibid._, i. 5029; Galba B., iii. 13.

  [234] _Ibid._, i. 5006; Galba B., iii. 160.

  [235] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 5006; Galba B., iii. 160.

  [236] _Ibid._, i. 5029; Galba B., iii. 13.

The French were now forward on the borders of the Pale, and said "they
would look upon us at Guisnes,"[237] while Préjan, the admiral, was at
Dieppe with his galleys, and at St Omer there were as many Mamelukes as
good Frenchmen. Count de Ligny and all other captains in Henry's pay
were ordered to draw to Calais and lodge about Gravelines, to co-operate
with the force which was ready to cross the sea.[238] At this moment
grew a rumour of Margaret's marriage to Louis XII., but Henry denied it
before his Council, and said, no matter who in the world said so he
would not believe it, for he never doubted her for a moment, though he
acknowledged her explanation of her use of English moneys and soldiers
was rather "colorable." At last, in May, Margaret had comfortable
letters from her father, and she definitely broke with Suffolk in the
pathetic letters[239] already quoted, which, "so that certain conclusion
might be made," she wrote to Sir Richard Wingfield, but she could not
undo the well-knit French policy. Suffolk's _riposte_ was somewhat weak.
At the jousts in May the King and the new duke defended the tilt against
all comers, and on their black staves was written in white letters, "Who
can hold what will away." Hall says, "This poesie was judged to be made
for the Duke of Suffolk and the Duchess of Savoy," and as Henry's bore
the same legend, it probably referred also to the Prince of Castile and
the Princess Mary.[240]

  [237] _Ibid._, i. 5021, R.O.

  [238] _Ibid._, i. 5035; Calig. D., vi. 118.

  [239] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 4851; Titus B., i. 142.

  [240] Hall's Chronicle, ed. 1809, 568.

This was not, however, the open end. Negotiations dragged on. Sir Robert
Wingfield, who had once before detached the Emperor from France, was
trying to repeat the move, but with no success, for Aragon's ambassador,
with his dealings "full of ficte and colored matter," was always there
to balk him. He implored Henry to do nothing in haste, for "his majesty
showeth himself at many times not easy to be led, and much worse to be
driven, and therefore, Sir, for the love of God, have good consideration
how ye handle this old practised Prince, which hath been but easily
(_i.e._ superficially) known in time past, because many have sought to
defame him and few to declare and show what manner of man he is."[241]
The Aragonese ambassador at Malines also gave himself such airs of
importance that Margaret was exceedingly annoyed, and it was openly
said that "if the said lord Prince will not be obeissant unto the King
of Aragon (_i.e._ in the matter of marriage), or go into Spain against
his will, he might be poisoned, as his father King Philip was."[242]
Gerard de Pleine, representing Flanders, and John Coller, the Emperor,
were sent to England, and got very little comfort from either Henry or
the Council, the former declaring roundly that if he wanted peace he
need not send out of his kingdom for it,[243] which the ambassadors took
as an allusion to Louis de Longueville, who was a favourite in the
court. Wolsey said the King would not make peace, but if he did it would
ruin Flanders.[244] The English themselves were in favour of war with
France, and, like Lord Darcy,[245] offered themselves and their sons
with eagerness to serve the King there. The marriage of Mary with the
Prince was taken for granted, so that the breaking of this traditional
policy was a difficult matter, and had to be conducted to a full
conclusion secretly. Hence, though in June the truce with France was
assured, and on July 30 Mary, persuaded by her brother and Wolsey,
formally renounced her compact of marriage with Charles,[246] yet on
August 2 Margaret was reading letters from Henry "with a glad
countenance."[247] A fortnight later the fashion thereof had changed,
when she heard that her trust had been misplaced and played with, and
she had to listen to Chièvres' sneers at English fidelity.[248] The
Council cried traitor to the English, and the whole country was
exasperated. Englishmen were assaulted in Brussels,[249] and the
Captain of Tournay found victualling a difficult matter, for it depended
on the goodwill of the surrounding people, and the Anglo-French alliance
put the fear of God upon them. Margaret was the only one who refused to
believe the report, and "took great thought and displeasure therewith in
so much that some fear she shall take hurt thereby"; and indeed she did
fall ill[250] in the autumn from vexation at the failure of her plans
and from grief, "for the penance was too great for their offence."[251]
The Duchess made one more attempt to reknit the bonds between England
and Flanders, and threatened to publish Henry's promise, signed at
Tournay, not to enter into any truce without the knowledge of his ally,
the Prince, but Henry retorted that if she did this, which, after all,
would do him no harm, he would publish secret letters of hers which he
held,[252] and so again Margaret ran up against the Suffolk affair. Do
what she might it was not forgotten, for "the bruit is so imprinted in
the fantasies of the people," and as late as September 1515[253] she was
asking Wolsey for the return of her letters.

  [241] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 5126; Vitell. B., xviii. 85.

  [242] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 5076; Galba B., iii. 190.

  [243] Lettres de Louis XII., iv. 328.

  [244] _Ibid._

  [245] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 4902; Calig. B., ii. 323.

  [246] _Ibid._, i. 5282; Rymer's "Fœdera," xiii. 409.

  [247] _Ibid._, i. 5292; Galba B., iii. 211.

  [248] _Ibid._, i. 5327; Galba B., iii. 199.

  [249] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 5341; Galba B., iii. 213.

  [250] _Ibid._, i. 5675; Galba B., iii. 168.

  [251] _Ibid._, i. 5362; Galba B., iii. 212*.

  [252] Lettres de Louis XII., iv. 355.

  [253] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. 876; Galba B., vi. 205.


Charles is said to have used strong language on hearing that he had been
jilted. "It was said that when the Prince of Castile heard that his
promised bride had been given to France, he went immediately into his
council chamber and said to his Councillors, "Well, am I to have my wife
as you promised me," with other words to that effect; whereupon his
Councillors answered him: "You are young, but the King of France is
the first King in Christendom, and, having no wife, it rests with him to
take for his queen any woman he pleases." Thus did they seek to excuse
themselves. During this conversation Duke Charles, looking out of the
window, saw a man with a hawk on his fist, and calling one of his
Councillors, who was his chief friend, said to him, "I prithee go buy me
that hawk." The Councillor replied, "I know that hawk: he is a young
bird and does not yet know how to quarry: he is not a bird for your
lordship." The Prince again said, "I prithee go and buy it." The
Councillor, still seeking to excuse himself, the Duke at length
exclaimed, "Come with me." So he bought it himself and put it on his
fist. Then, having returned to the council chamber, he seated himself
and began plucking the hawk, the Councillor meanwhile inquiring, "Sir!
what are you doing?" The Duke still continued plucking the bird, and
when he had done so to his heart's content, made answer: "Thou askest me
why I plucked this hawk! he is young you see, and has not yet been
trained, and because he is young he is held in small account, and
because he is young he squeaked not when I plucked him. Thus have you
done by me: I am young, you have plucked me at your good pleasure, and
because I was young I knew not how to complain, but bear in mind that
for the future I shall pluck you."[254] This tale is regarded as
apocryphal, or at least impossible, but the date is September 24, about
six weeks after the publication in London of the treaty with France, and
indifference to suffering in animals is not unheard-of in the sixteenth
century. Maximilian sorrowed too at the thought that the original of the
picture he had admired at Therouenne, "the fair and virtuous princess,
should come to an impotent, indisposed and so malicious a prince as is
the French King,"[255] and, like St George, his favourite saint, would
have liked to rescue the maiden from the dragon.

  [254] C. S. P. Venice, ii. 505.

  [255] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 5404; Galba B., iii. 216.



Though Louis de Longueville has always had the credit of arranging the
match between the Princess Mary and Louis XII. of France, there was
another who claimed openly the initiation of the idea. Margaret of Savoy
said that the Pope had been to her knowledge the promoter of the whole
business,[256] and Leo X. claimed[257] that he had been the first to
propose it to France and England. It had been discussed secretly in Rome
by the Bishop of Marseilles and the Bishop of Worcester, who met
frequently together in the city and in "vynes and garthynges" without
it.[258] The Medici had always been favourers of the French, and there
is no doubt that Leo X. and "il magnifico Juliano" used their influence
to make the peace, but equally doubtless, had not Longueville been on
the spot "et mena tellement l'affaire de poste en poste,"[259] matters
would not have progressed so rapidly. The Frenchman was not only moved
by desire for the national safety, he had also a private crow to pick
with Burgundy,[260] for the Prince's officers had seized on certain
lands of his, and in return the Duke rejoiced at the opportunity of
wiping his neighbour's eye. His position at the English Court gave him
every chance of doing so. Henry had intended from the first that he
should be in the household, but Katharine had been forced to lodge him
in the Tower for the first three weeks after his arrival. On the King's
return he was lodged in the Court, and became Henry's daily companion.
He was witness to the King's anger against Ferdinand of Aragon, and his
annoyance at the variableness of the Emperor, and no doubt, secrets
being ill-kept, he knew all about the Savoy-Suffolk affair. As early as
March Wolsey was half gained to France, and the general of Normandy,
Thomas Bohier, in England ostensibly to confer with Longueville at
Sittingbourne about his ransom, was on friendly terms with the new
Bishop of Lincoln, and Louis XII. desired his mediation.[261] Henry
however, was too sure that France was at his feet to treat at once, and
it was not till his allies had definitely left him that he listened to
French proposals. The Bishop of Lincoln's attitude was complicated by
his claim on Tournay, of which See he was bishop, but was there opposed
by the French bishop-elect, who had easily collected the revenues with
the collusion of the Flemish, who wanted no English bishop and mobbed
his vicar in Ghent and Bruges. It probably was in Wolsey's mind that if
he did the Pope's pleasure in the matter of peace with France, there was
more likelihood of his enjoying the fruits of the See. The bait held out
to him by Louis was a cardinal's hat, and the French King over and over
again promised to use his influence with Leo X. to get this for him. In
March the marriage was talked about in Rome, in April in Paris,[262]
while in England the only subject of conversation was the coming war,
and in May, when the Castile marriage openly hung fire, the General of
Normandy was again in England. He sent a herald to Calais[263] for a
safe-conduct and also to arrange a truce, but this was not granted, "so
he came here with a cartel to know the ransom required for the Duke de
Longueville, which, being generally known, he was answered that not
having brought the ransom with him, and should he have nothing else to
say, he was to depart in God's name." Unabashed by this brusque
reception, which may have been one of Wolsey's carefully arranged
"pageants," the Duke, "who is in great favour, making himself most
amiable,"[264] stepped in, and by his mediation the General was allowed
to open his mission for some agreement between the two crowns. Henry
demanded a million and a half ducats and three towns--Therouenne,
Boulogne and St Quentin. The General answered suavely this could hardly
be called an agreement, but his master was prepared to make peace and
give the usual tribute. King Henry then rejoined, "Well, if he chooses
to marry my sister, the widow of the King of Scots, the agreement shall
be made."[265] The General was allowed to write to his master, and he
was invited to the sacring[266] of the new ship, the "Harry Grace à
Dieu," the King's newest toy, "which has no equal in bulk and has an
incredible array of guns." There, in a brilliant company, he saw the
Queen and the Princess Mary, surrounded by the bishops, nobles and
ambassadors, and he witnessed the reception of the ambassadors from the
Duchess of Savoy and the Emperor, whom Henry took over the seven tiers
of the ship, pointing out her novelties and merits. All the French
negotiations had to be conducted with the greatest secrecy, for the war
was popular in England, where the nobles and gentlemen had already
prepared their equipages at great expense, but abroad the matter was
talked of openly, and the lady mentioned was not the impossible
Margaret, but Mary. Henry refused to be drawn by the Emperor's
ambassador,[267] and said nothing beyond that he had peace under his
hand if he wanted it; but they said roundly to the Council that the
General "was well known to the Emperor as one accustomed to handle more
difficult matters than the ransom of the Duke de Longueville." The great
difficulty was Tournay, and that question was finally waived for later
settlement, and a treaty of peace for the lives of the two kings and one
year after was concluded on a basis of tribute paying, and all arrears
from France, dating from 1444, were to be gradually paid up at a fixed
rate. Henry wanted to give his sister without a dowry, in clear
contravention of his father's will, but eventually it was arranged that
Mary's trousseau, jewels, and furniture, valued at 200,000 crowns, were
to be regarded as such.

  [256] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 5387; Galba B., iii. 166.

  [257] _Ibid._, i. 5543; Vitell. B., ii. 108.

  [258] _Ibid._, i. 5106; Vitell. B., ii. 77.

  [259] Fleurange, Hist. Louis XII.; Petitot, Col. de Mémoires,
  xli. 262.

  [260] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 4725; Galba B., iii. 148.

  [261] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 4883; Calig. D., vi. 117.

  [262] C. S. P. Venice, ii. 398.

  [263] C. S. P. Venice, iii. 1485.

  [264] _Ibid._, iii. 1485.

  [265] _Ibid._, ii. 436.

  [266] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 5192; Galba. B., iii. 208.

  [267] Lettres de Louis XII., iv. 335.

Late in the evening of July 29[268] the General of Normandy came again
to London, to a very different reception. "He had come to seal the
articles, having been met by four hundred of the chief lords on
horseback to do him honour." Next day, at Wanstead Manor, Mary made the
formal renunciation of her compact of marriage with Charles, Prince of
Castile, in the presence of the Dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk, the Earl
of Worcester, the Bishops of Lincoln, Winchester and Durham, and Sir
Rauf Verney, her chamberlain. On August 7 the preliminaries were
concluded and the contract signed. On the 11th peace was proclaimed in
London, with none of the usual pomp, by two men on horseback "in a
public street; neither trumpet nor any other instrument was sounded, and
but few persons heard the proclamation, neither were bonfires burnt or
any other demonstration made for this peace."[269] Two days later the
wedding took place at Greenwich, and early in the morning of that
Sunday, wrote the Venetian ambassador's secretary, a lord came in his
barge in quest of Messer Andreas Badoer,[270] "on behalf of the King
that he might go to the Court to be present at the wedding." So he went
to where his Majesty was, at a place called Greenwich, on a fine river,
and proceeded upstairs, where the other lords were awaiting the King in
the apartment where the ceremony was to be performed. It had the
appearance of a large chamber, the walls around being covered with cloth
of gold surmounted by an embroidered frieze with the royal arms. There
were many lords present, clad in cloth of gold and some in silk, all
wearing chains, who came to meet the ambassador, saying, "Thou art as
welcome as if thou wert our father and of our own blood," for which he
thanked them much, and he gave them good greeting. And he remained thus,
talking, first with one and then with another, for three hours, till at
length the King came and was immediately followed by the Queen, his
sister the bride, and a number of ladies. The Duke de Longueville, with
two French ambassadors, represented the King of France. The Primate
delivered a Latin sermon, saying that they had been brought to that
place to celebrate "a holy marriage, the contracting parties being the
sister of the King of England and the King of France, whose majesty was
represented by the Duke de Longueville." Then John de Selva, President
of Normandy, spoke, and said that the King of France was willing to take
the Princess Mary to wife, and the Bishop of Durham read the French
letters patent. When these discourses were ended, the Duke de
Longueville, representing the person of the French King, taking the
Princess by the right hand, read the marriage contract in French[271];
after which the Princess, taking the Duke's right hand in hers, read her
contract[272] in the same tongue. The Duke then signed the "schedule,"
and after him the Princess signed "Mary," and that done, Longueville
delivered to her a golden ring which she placed on the fourth finger of
her right hand. By this time it was nearly mid-day, and the King went to
Mass in procession headed by the lords walking two and two, and clad in
silk gowns of their own fashion with gold collars as massive as chains,
"two dukes of the realm walked together clad in gowns of cloth of gold,"
and last came the Venetian ambassador next the King as a mark of honour,
and paired with the Archbishop of Canterbury.[273] Henry wore a gown of
cloth of gold and ash-colour satin in chequers, with certain jewelled
embroidery, after his usual fashion, of beaten gold appliqué to the
brocade, and a most costly collar round his neck. With him, nearly in a
line but slightly behind, walked the Duke de Longueville, wearing a gown
of cloth of gold and purple satin in chequers, and a most beautiful
collar. After the King came the Queen, who was pregnant, also in
ash-colour satin with chains and jewels, and on her head a cap of cloth
of gold covering the ears in the Venetian fashion, and beside her walked
the bride in a petticoat of ash-colour satin, and a gown of purple satin
and cloth of gold in chequers. She also had a Venetian cap and many
chains and jewels, and was accompanied by many ladies. After Mass came a
banquet, followed by a return to the same room where the ceremony had
taken place, and there, to the harmonious sounds of flute, harp, pipe,
and violetta, they danced for two hours, the King and the Duke of
Buckingham dancing in their doublets, and the tunes were so merry that
Badoer, old as he was, felt tempted to throw off his gown and follow
Henry's example. Whether it was before, after, or during the dance, at
some moment the marriage was formally concluded _per verba de præsenti_,
and the bride, in the presence of many witnesses, undressed and went to
bed. "The Marquis of Rothelin (the Duke de Longueville), in his doublet
with a pair of red hose, but with one leg naked, went into bed and
touched the Princess with his naked leg, and the marriage was declared
consummated."[274] After the dance, refreshments were served, and the
King and Queen departed, and the Archbishop of York [Wolsey], the Duke
de Longueville, Badoer, the lord of St John's [_i.e._ the prior of St
John of Jerusalem in England], and other noblemen went to the house
given by the King to the Duke, a good bowshot from the palace, but
within the park walls. There the legal instrument was signed and
mutually ratified.[275] Then wines were served, and the Venetian
ambassador, and the nobleman who had fetched him in the morning, with
the lord of St John's, took their leave and returned home by barge,
"making good cheer by the way."

  [268] C. S. P. Venice, ii. 464.

  [269] C. S. P. Venice, ii. 505.

  [270] _Ibid._

  [271] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 5322; Vitell. C. xi. 167.

  [272] _Ibid._

  [273] C. S. P. Venice, ii. 505.

  [274] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 5337, Harl. MSS. 3462, f. 142.

  [275] Rymer's Fœdera, xiii. 444.

What were Mary's feelings? In spite of the Flemish agent's report, it is
not necessary to believe that she had been deeply wounded by the
breaking off of the Flemish marriage, or that she had ever been in love
with the Prince. But it is well known that she gave a reluctant consent
to the French marriage, and that her reluctance was said to have its
root in her attachment to the Duke of Suffolk, who three months ago had
been still a suitor for the hand of Margaret of Savoy. Did the two
deserted ones console each the other? It is not at all impossible that
mutual sympathy brought them into greater intimacy, and that Mary fell
in love with the Duke then, for where the experienced duchess fell, what
hope was there for the young princess! That Suffolk wanted to marry her
there can be no doubt, but his career and experience made it impossible
that he should plunge into love with Mary's enthusiasm. He had already
had two wives, of whom one was still living, and, put down in black and
white, the story of his marriages is hardly respectable. When he was Sir
Charles Brandon he made a contract of marriage "with a gentlewoman,
Mistress Anne Browne, and before any solemnization of that marriage not
only had a daughter by her, which after was married to the Lord Powes,
but also brake promise with her and married the Lady Mortimer, which
marriage the said Anne Browne judicially accused to be unlawful, for
that the said Sir Charles Brandon had made a pre-contract with her and
carnally known her. Which being duly proved, sentence of divorce was
given, and he married solemnly the said Mistress Anne Browne; at which
marriage all the nobility were present and did honour it; and afterwards
had by her another daughter, who was married to the Lord Mounteagle.
After this the said Mrs Anne Browne continued with him all her life as
his wife, and died his wife, without impeachment of that marriage."[276]
But these matters would not influence Mary, for, besides the fact that
the English were notoriously loose about marriage, she was in love, and
that hid everything. When Henry, at the last moment (and it can be taken
for granted that as secrecy was necessary Mary knew little till then),
told her of her destiny, he had the greatest difficulty in persuading
her to it. She rebelled vehemently against marriage with an "old,
feeble, and pocky" man of fifty-six, for her ladies would not mince
their words with niceness when it came to descriptions. But Henry showed
her that it could not be for long; Louis had been ill for years now
(grisly reasoning for a girl of eighteen), and once a widow she would be
free to marry whom she would, if she would only do his pleasure this
once. Longueville painted the delights of the French Court, the centre
of all light and fashion, and the honour of being queen of it, while her
pride, wounded by the Flemish treatment, was glad to be able to return
so speedy a Roland for their Oliver. Once she had allowed herself to be
dazzled into consenting, things were hurried on, and she had not a
chance for reflection; there was nothing but dancing, banquets, and
feasts from the day of her marriage to that of her departure,[277]
varied by visits from Jehan de Paris,[278] painter and designer of
frocks, and from Marigny,[279] her husband's _maître d'hôtel_, with
presents and letters from the King. One day he arrived at the Court
preceded by a white horse laden with two coffers both full of gifts for
her,[280] and she was soon reconciled to her lot, and was "so pleased to
be Queen of France that she did not care that the French King was an old
man and gouty."[281] She was not going to France "en dame de petite
étoffe,"[282] and if her first trousseau was to have been in all things
queenly and honourable, this one eclipsed it, in measure as the dignity
of a queen of France eclipsed that of a princess of Castile. The greater
number of her gowns were made in the French fashion, but six were
Milanese and eight were English, with tight sleeves. Her jewels were
magnificent, and justified her father's reputation of having harvested
those of many impecunious princes. Diamonds, caboché and cut, "tables
and points," pearls, balas rubies sparkled in bracelets, pendants,
baldrics, rings. Her device of four roses set with diamonds appeared in
various forms, and the fleur de lys was not absent, and her frontlets
were of pearls. Her bejewelled plate, her hangings, her bedroom and her
chapel appointments, were of the costliest, and the glitter of the
fashionable cloth of gold was over all.[283] Small wonder that the
excitement of the preparations and the pleasure of possessions
reconciled Mary to her fate, as her chosen "word" might indicate, "La
volonté de Dieu me suffit." Besides the jewels of the trousseau, Mary
received many marriage presents from France, and Louis sent her,
amongst other things, a marvellous diamond pendant, which roused to
admiration the jewellers of the Row, to whom it was unknown even by

  [276] Julius F. vi. 409.

  [277] C. S. P. Venice, ii. 500.

  [278] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 5462; Calig. D. vi. 141.

  [279] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 5462; Calig. D. vi. 141.

  [280] C. S. P. Venice, ii. 505.

  [281] _Ibid._, ii. 482.

  [282] Fleurange, Hist. Louis XII.; Petitot Collection de
  Mémoires, p. 265.

  [283] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 5491-2; Vitell. C. xi. f. 158.

  [284] C. S. P. Venice, ii. 500.


A few days after the marriage ceremony the French ambassadors set out
for France to carry the news of their successful mission. They did not
go empty-handed. The General and his son had been well rewarded, and
Longueville, no longer a prisoner, had an order on Cavalcanti, the
Italian merchant and banker, for £2000,[285] Henry's present on the
occasion of the marriage, when he also gave him his embroidered gown.
From Canterbury Mary received what was probably her first letter as
Queen of France. "Aujourd'hui," wrote Longueville, "M. le général et moi
avons eu des lettres du roi qu'il nous écrit que le plus grand désire
qu'il a c'est de savoir de vos nouvelles, et qu'il trouve
merveilleusement bon le lieu d'Abbeville pour vous trouver ensemble
ainsi qu'il a été accordé, et que là sans point de faute vous le
trouverez délibéré de vous bien recevoir. Et ferai, Madame, la plus
grande diligence qu'il me sera possible d'aller divers lui pour lui
dé[livrer] de vos nouvelles. Et toujours ainsi que j'en saurai des
siennes vous en advertirai ainsi que vous m'avez commandé, vous
suppliant très humblement, Madame, qu'il vous plaise me commander
toujours vos bons plaisirs pour les accomplir comme celui qui désire
vous faire service. Madame, il y a un marchant nommé Jehan Cavalcanty,
dem[eurant] à Londres lequel à mon affaire m'a fait service. Il a
quelque affaire envers le roi votre frère. Je vous supplie qu'il vous
[plaise], Madame, lui être aidant envers le dit et l'avoir pour [ ...
]. Madame je prie à notre Seigneur qu'il vous donne très bonne
v[ie]."[286] Bohier also wrote. On their arrival at Estampes, where was
the King, their description of Mary, "the prettiest girl in Europe," and
probably also the difficulty about Tournay, moved Louis to write to ask
for her speedy delivery into his hands. "Faîtes mes recommandations," he
wrote to Wolsey, "au roi mon frère, votre maître, et lui dites que je
lui prie m'envoyer sa sœur le plus tôt que faire se pourra, et qu'il me
fera en ce faisant singulier plaisir."[287] The same day Longueville
wrote to Mary, "Que le roi s'ennuie de ce que ne lui écrites de vos
nouvelles et aussi que votre cas ne se dépêche pas par delà si tôt qu'il
voudrait bien, pourquoi, Madame, je vous supplie très humblement que lui
veuillez écrire et tout faire par delà que le plus tôt que pourrez vous
en puisse venir, car plus grand plaisir ne lui saurez faire en ce monde.
Et en surplus, Madame, votre plaisir sera me mander et commander vos
bons plaisirs pour les accomplir. Madame je prie à Dieu qu'il vous donne
très bonne vie et longue."[288] So Mary, with the help of John
Palsgrave, wrote a formal little letter in French, of which this is a

   "Sir, very humbly I recommend me unto your grace. I have received
   the letters which it has pleased you to write to me with your own
   hand, and heard what my cousin the Duke de Longueville has told
   me from you, in which I take great joy, felicity, and pleasure,
   for which and for the honour which it has pleased you to do to
   me I hold myself ever indebted and obliged to you, and thank you
   as cordially as I can. And because by my cousin you will hear how
   all things have taken their end and conclusion, and the very
   singular desire that I have to see you, I forbear to write to you
   a longer letter. For the rest, Sir, praying our Creator to give
   you health and long life,--By the hand of your humble companion,


  [285] L. and P. H. VIII., ii.; Book of Payments, August 1514.

  [286] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 5329; Calig. D. vi. 137.

  [287] Vitell. C. xvi. f. 145.

  [288] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 5373; Calig. D. vi. 142.

  [289] Bethune MSS., Bib. du Roi, Paris, quoted by Mrs Green in
  "Lives of the Princesses of England," vol. v. p. 34.

On September 14, in the church of the Celestines at Paris, after Mass,
Louis went through the marriage ceremony with Mary's proctor, the Earl
of Worcester. The Dauphin, Longueville, John Stuart, Duke of Albany,
Robertet, the treasurer, were there, with many others, and the next day,
in Les Tournelles, in the faubourg St Antoine, the King appeared before
the Bishop of Paris and bound himself to the payment of a million gold
ducats to Henry VIII., and in default to be excommunicated.[290] That
was the last of the formalities; all had now been complied with, and
Louis was eager to see the wife he had heard so much about. So he wrote
to Wolsey again urging that she should be sent over as soon as possible,
for to have her across the sea was all his desire, and thanking Wolsey
for all the trouble that had been taken with "l'appareil et les choses,"
which he understood were exquisitely beautiful.[291] He enclosed a
letter to Mary, who replied: "Monseigneur, Bien humblement a votre bonne
grace, je me recommende. Monseigneur j'ai par Monseigneur l'evêque de
Lincoln reçu les très affectueuses lettres qu'il vous a plu naguères
m'écrire, qui m'ont été a très grant joye et confort, vous assurant,
Monseigneur, qu'il n'y a rien que tant je désire que de vous voir. Et le
Roi, Monseigneur et frère, fait tout extrème diligence pour mon allée
delà la mer, qui au plaisir de Dieu sera brière. Vous suppléant,
Monseigneur, me vouloir cependant pour ma très singulière consolation
souvent faire savoir de vos nouvelles, ensemble vos bons et agréables
plaisirs pour vous y obéir et complaire, aidant notre Créateur qui vous
donne, Monseigneur, bonne vie et longuement bien prosperer. De la main
de vre bien humble compaigne.


  [290] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 5408. R.O.

  [291] _Ibid._, i. 5462; Calig. D. vi. 141.

  [292] Ellis's "Original Letters," 1st series, vol. i. p. 113.

What kind of a man was Mary to be consigned to? A recent French writer
gives the following description of his character drawn from contemporary
sources:--"D'esprit médiocre, pas eloquent ni savant, mais plein de bons
sens, c'était comme le grandgouzier de Rabelais, un type de 'bon
raillard,' aimant à boire et à rire, orné des vertues bourgeoises et
pratiques, dont il ne lui manquait pas une, même la fidélité à sa femme,
et pour le reste, plein de bonté, de loyauté, d'amabilité, de rondeur;
point de rancune, la gaîté cordiale, les goûts charitables, les
sentiments serieusement chrétiens, sans ostentation, ni tendance au
merveilleux: homme tout cœur qui ne pensait qu'à son peuple."[293] He
knew and admired Italian art and writers, and welcomed them at his
Court, but with no frenzied admiration. He was, above all things,
reasonable, normal, and commonplace. To his first wife Jeanne he had
been forcibly married by her father, Louis XI. She is said to have been
a crippled angel, and the first thing Louis did on his accession was to
obtain a divorce from her from Alexander VI., "l'argent entra en ligne,"
and all was easy with the Borgia; and then to marry Anne of Brittany,
the widow of his cousin and predecessor, Charles VIII. She was a not
unusual mixture of piety and arrogance, and a thousand times more
Duchess of Brittany than she was Queen of France to the day of her
death. Like Katharine of England, time and again, in spite of prayers,
promises, and pilgrimages, her hopes of a male heir were dashed, and she
only left two daughters to survive her, the elder of whom, Claude, after
having been grudgingly betrothed to Francis d'Angoulême, who was in open
antagonism to Anne, was married to him a few months after her mother's
death. Renée, the younger, the child of many prayers, called for St
René, to whom her father had vowed his child, was the princess who had
so often been en concurrence with Mary in Flanders. Since his wife's
death and his own continued illness Louis had allowed the Dauphin, as
Francis d'Angoulême was now called, to meddle in affairs of state, for,
after all, vain-glorious and incapable of viewing things from any but an
absolutely personal vantage as he was, the young man was more than
likely to become King of France, and must serve his apprenticeship, and
now nothing was done without his advice. He was furious with Longueville
for his part in bringing about the English marriage, "il en sceut bien
mauvais gré,"[294] but made up his mind to carry the thing off well, "et
voullust bien montrer qu'il n'estoit pas mal content de ce marriage,"
and threw himself heartily into the preparations for Mary's reception,
confident that his position was saved by the senile condition of the
King's bodily powers, and frankly interested in his favourite occupation
of organizing gorgeous spectacles. The Court Mary was about to enter was
no harmonious one, for Louise de Savoie and her son were centres of
disaffection, and Claude de France and her father were eclipsed by the
magnificence of the hôtel d'Angoulême, the treasurer of France,
Robertet, pandering to the Dauphin's boyish extravagance in clothes and
advancing money to pay his colossal tailor bills. Mary would find
herself the centre of all kinds of intrigue, from which the kindly
nature of her husband could hardly protect her, though, as Worcester
wrote, "he hath a marvellous mind to content and please the Queen."[295]
He awaited her coming in great good humour with seven coffers of jewels
and other treasures beside him, and "au logic du roy il ne feust plus
question de deuil."[296] Worcester wrote that "there is nothing that can
displease him, and he hath provided jewels and goodly gear for her.
There was in his chamber the Archbishop of Paris, Robertet, and the
General and I, where he showed me the goodliest and richest sight of
jewels that ever I saw. I would not have believed it if I had not seen
it."[297] All things were for her, said the King, "but merrily laughing,
'my wife shall not have all at once, but at divers times, for he would
have many and at divers times kisses and thanks for them.' I assure you
he thinketh every hour a day till he seeth her. He is never well but
when he heareth speak of her. I make no doubt she will have a good life
with him by the grace of God."

  [293] "Louise de Savoie," by Maulde la Clavière, p. 116.

  [294] Fleurange, _op. cit._, p. 269.

  [295] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 5468; Calig. D. vi. 198.

  [296] Fleurange, Hist. Louis XII.; Petitot Collection de
  Mémoires, p. 267.

  [297] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 5468; Calig. D. vi. 198.

And on the other side of the channel poor Mary would willingly have made
every hour a day before her departure. Two or three days before she left
London "all the merchants of every nation went to Court. The Queen
desired to see them all and gave her hand to each of them. She wore a
gown in the French fashion of woven gold, very costly; she is very
beautiful and has not her match in England, is a young woman sixteen
years old, tall, fair, and of light complexion with a colour, and most
affable and graceful. On her neck was a jewelled diamond as large and as
broad as a full-sized finger, with a pear-shaped pearl beneath it, the
size of a pigeon's egg, which jewel had been sent her as a present by
the King of France.... And the jewellers of the Row, whom the King
desired to value it, estimated its worth at 60,000 crowns. It was
marvellous that the existence of this diamond and pearl should never
have been known; it was believed that they belonged to the late King of
France, or to the Duke of Brittany, the father of the late Queen." "On
bidding farewell to the merchants she made them many offers, speaking a
few words in French and delighting everybody. The whole Court now speaks
French and English, as in the time of the late King."[298]

  [298] C. S. P. Venice, ii. 500.

Mary's ladies had been chosen from among her companions by Wolsey, and
on August 7, when the marriage treaty was signed, the ladies had been
arranged for also. The paper was evidently taken to France for the
King's signature, for it is in the British Museum signed "Loys," and
dated, in a contemporary English hand, August 8, 1514.[299] Their names
are: Mademoiselle Grey, sister of the Marquis [of Dorset], Mademoiselle
Mary Fenes, daughter of Lord Dacres [of Hurst Monceaux], Mademoiselle
Elizabeth, sister of Lord Grey [de Wilton?], Mademoiselle Boleyne [Anne,
not Mary, in spite of Dr Brewer], Mistress Anne Jerningham, _femme de
chambre_, Jean Barnes, _chamberière_. These were the ladies "contracted
for." But later on more were added without reference to Louis' pleasure:
old Lady Guildford, Elizabeth Ferrers, Anne Devereux, M. Wotton, Anne
Denys, and evidently others. Dr Denton, her old friend, went as her
almoner, and John Palsgrave as her secretary. "Mother" Guildford came
from her retirement to go with her former charge as lady of honour, for
she spoke French well, and would be able, as Henry told Mary, to advise
the _jeune mariée_ in the perplexing situations which might arise. At
the suit of Longueville[300] Louis suggested that Jane Popincourt should
be among his wife's ladies, for he understood that "the Queen loveth and
trusteth her above all the gentlewomen about her," but on Worcester
telling him of her evil life he said that "if the King made her to be
brent, it should be a good deed," and Longueville's scheme fell through.
Louis said there should be never man nor woman about his wife but such
as should be at her contentation, but later on he judged their fitness
by another standard. As the Duke of Suffolk could not go with her, the
Duke of Norfolk was to present Mary to her husband, and with him were
many nobles and ladies; notably the Marquis of Dorset and his four
brethren, Lord de la Warr, Lord Mounteagle, the Bishop of Durham, with
many bannerets and esquires. The Duchess of Norfolk and the Countess of
Oxford were with the Duke, and the Marchioness of Dorset and Lady
Mounteagle accompanied their husbands. The company was chosen by Wolsey,
and several of Suffolk's friends were included. Thomas Wriothesley,
Garter King at Arms, with Richmond Herald, went to see that all things
were in order, and fifty officers of the King's household were
transferred to his sister's.

  [299] L. and P. H. VIII. i. 5484; Vitell. C. xi. 155.

  [300] _Ibid._, i. 5468; Calig. D. vi. 198.

On September 19 all these "gros princes et dames et gros personages" set
out for Dover, accompanied by what remained of the Court to the water's
edge. "There would be about a thousand palfreys, and a hundred women's
carriages," wrote Lorenzo Pasqualigo, merchant of Venice in London, to
his brother. "There were so many gowns of woven gold, and with gold
grounds, housings for the horses and palfreys of the same material, and
chains and jewels, that they were worth a vast amount of treasure; and
some of the noblemen in this company, to do themselves honour, had spent
as much as 200,000 crowns each. Many of the merchants proposed going to
Dover to see this fine sight."[301] The Court rode in leisurely fashion
to the coast at Dover. Mary was expected in France, where no business
save rejoicings for the wedding was attended to, on the 29th, and John
Heron[302] had pressed the ships for her crossing by that date, and the
fleet had scoured the channel to east and west, but it was not till
October 2 that she set sail for Boulogne. Henry had meant to have gone
ten miles out to sea with her in the "Harry Grace à Dieu,[303] but the
weather was too threatening, so he bade his sister good-bye at the
water-edge, his last words being a renewal of his promise about her
second marriage, and hers a passionate reminder. The fleet set sail, and
had not gone far before the fulfilment of her first marriage became for
the moment problematic, for they "had not sailed a quarter of their
voyage in the sea but that the wind rose and severed the ships, driving
some of them to Calais, some into Flanders, and her ship and three
others with great difficulty were brought to Boulogne, not without great
jeopardy at the entering of the haven, for the master ran the ship hard
on shore. But the boats were ready and received the lady out of the
ship, and Sir Christopher Garnish ['strong, sturdy stallion, so sterne
and so stowsty'] strode into the water, and took her in his arms and
bare her to land, where the Duke of Vendôme, and a cardinal with many
other great estates, received her with great honour."[304] At least one
ship of the fleet was lost, "The Great Elizabeth," at Sandgate, close to
Calais, and Sir Weston Browne, the captain, and not a hundred men
escaped out of a company of five hundred.

  [301] C. S. P. Venice, ii. 500.

  [302] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. 68.

  [303] C. S. P. Venice, ii. 503.

  [304] Stowe's Chronicle, _ed._ 1592, pp. 828 _et seq._

The useful Marigny[305] at once sent notice to Louis at Abbeville of the
Queen's arrival, and thither, after a short interval of rest, long
enough to squeeze the sea water from her clothes, went Mary, accompanied
all the way by Longueville, who "made her good cheer," Lautrec, the
Bishop of Bayeux, and a large company, and joined on the way by the Duke
d'Angoulême, whom the English annoyed by calling "M. le duc," instead
of "Monsieur" _tout court_. On the 8th the company was within a few
miles of Abbeville, and at St Nicholas d'Essarts[306] the princes left
Mary to rest and change and put herself in order, while they rode on to
Abbeville to announce her coming to the King. Louis was curious to see
her, but etiquette forbade his going to meet her, so he sent back the
Dauphin to meet her a mile or so out of the town, with MM. d'Alençon, de
Longueville, de Lautrec, de la Tremouille, saying that he intended to
happen along the road hawking with his falcons, and would accidentally
meet the Queen at such and such a place, and Mary was to know nothing of
his intention. At the place appointed, a wide plain a little over a mile
away, the Dauphin met Mary riding a white palfrey, and wearing a dress
of cloth of gold on crimson, her shaggy hat of crimson silk cocked over
her left eye, and detained her there talking till some horsemen came in
sight. They were the King, the Cardinals of Auch and Bayeux, M. de
Vendôme, the Duke of Albany, Count Galeazzo di San Severino, the master
of horse, and others. Louis wore a short riding dress of the same stuff
as the Queen's, a sure sign that the meeting had really been
pre-arranged, for at this time it was the fashion when Kings and Queens
appeared together in public that their garments should always be made of
the same material. He rode as jauntily as he could a beautiful Spanish
horse, whose barb was of cloth of gold and black satin in chequers. As
he came up he gallantly kissed his hand to Mary and expressed his
surprise at this chance meeting, and Mary doffed her hat when told who
this was, and kissed her hand to the King, who then brought his horse
close up to her palfrey and "threw his arm round her neck and kissed
her as kindly as if he had been five and twenty." After a few words with
her he greeted the princes and gentlemen of her company, and then,
saying that he would continue his hunting, he departed and returned home
by another way.[307] He looked exceedingly ill, and Mary seems to have
found him worse than she had imagined. After Louis had gone the
procession was formed. It led off with fifty of Mary's esquires dressed
in silks of several sorts, all wearing the inevitable gold collar or
chain. Next came the Duke of Norfolk, with the ambassadors and noblemen
two and two, all wearing enormous gold chains (some cost as much as
£600), some doubling and trebling them round their necks, others wearing
them "prisoner fashion," and all having velvet bonnets of different
colours. Garter King at Arms and Richmond Herald in their tabards
followed, with eight trumpeters in crimson damask, and macers with gilt
maces surmounted by a royal crown; then two grooms in short doublets of
cloth of gold and black velvet, with velvet caps, each leading a
palfrey, and after these, two other palfreys ridden by pages. Then came
the Queen on her white palfrey, with the Dauphin always at her side, and
at her stirrup her running footmen, followed immediately by her litter
of cloth of gold, embroidered with gold lilies in wrought gold. On the
back and front of it were the French lilies and the parti-coloured roses
of York and Lancaster, while on the sides above and below were dolphins
and more red and white roses. This was borne by two large horses trapped
to match the litter and ridden by two pages in livery. Next followed the
ladies: first a party riding, gay in silks and gold brocades, and then
four in a carriage covered with gold brocade patterned in large flowers,
and drawn by six horses trapped to match. Then more ladies on palfreys,
and another carriage, and after that more palfreys, all decked and
trapped in gold brocade and murrey velvet, with running footmen, and
then ten palfreys more in the same stuffs with pale blue and white
fringe. Last of all came 200 English archers marching two and two in
three divisions; the first were in doublets of green satin and surcoats
and belts of black velvet, with shaggy red and white hats; the second
wore black doublets and shaggy white hats; the third black with grey
hats. But this was not all. About half a mile out of the town the chief
men of Abbeville met the Queen with 150 men, archers, musketeers, and
arbalestmen, all in red and yellow, and with them the captain of the
town and thirty men in his own livery. These fell in at the head of the
procession, which had swelled to considerable dimensions before it
reached the suburbs. At Nôtre Dame de la Chapelle without the walls
there seems to have been a short halt to allow Mary to make final
preparations for her entry, and here she was met by the clergy. It was
now about four o'clock, and a sharp shower fell, drenching them all,
especially the ladies, and, indeed, "of water from heaven there was no
lack until the evening, which caused some regret." The procession again
formed up. "First went a good number of archers, musketeers and
arbalestmen of the town, all in their livery of red and yellow; next the
Prévôt de l'Hôtel with his archers; then the 400 archers of the Guard
(on foot) with their captains, followed by the Grand Seneschal of
Normandy, with the gentlemen about eighty in number, including the
princes and grandees, who might amount to as many as twenty-five, in
gallant trim of various sorts and many in gold brocade." The Queen came
next, riding under a canopy of white satin embroidered above and around
with roses, and supported by two porcupines which the clergy had
prepared for her, and which was borne by the officers of the town. Her
dress was now "of gold brocade with a white gown," made in English
fashion with tight sleeves, "very costly both in jewels and goldsmith
work." She held in her hand a sceptre of white wood, and all round her
under the canopy were her running footmen, while the Scots Guards made a
second circle just outside the canopy. The Dauphin rode just beyond the
edge of her canopy, and they laughed and talked together, for "une si
belle personne tout or et diamants plut fort au duc de Valois."[308] The
reality of all this magnificence far exceeded the description, wrote the
Venetian ambassador, "to the great glory of the Queen." Abbeville
welcomed her with enthusiasm, and trumpets, clarions, bells and
artillery all vied in making the noise without which jubilation is
impossible. The people were delighted with her, and admired her fair
beauty and gentle manners, for they were not all so critical as the
Venetian ambassador, who at once spotted what he called the weak point
in her face, its light eyebrows and eyelashes. Under clangour of bells
and blare of trumpets, and amid the press of her new subjects, Mary,
still a little pale from her recent fatigues and stormy crossing, rode
through the Porte Marcade down the wet _chaussée,_ all hung with
tapestries now damp with rain, meeting Mysteries and Moralities at every
corner, till she came to the Church of St Wolfran, Abbeville's patron
saint, where she dismounted to give thanks. On the Place where was
Mary's lodging her most trying ordeal was before her, for there awaited
her Madame Claude, who had been "slightly indisposed and unable to go
out of the town to meet her." Mary was of those who thinketh little
evil, and her kind heart was moved at the sight of that white, plain
face, with its sweet expression, and she met her then, as later, "with
the utmost courtesy and honour and very lovingly."[309] The Venetians,
who delighted in spectacles, give no account of Mary's formal
presentation to her husband, and for that reason I inclined to the
belief that Gaguin's[310] account is apocryphal, and that Mary was
allowed to sup in peace and rest before the ball given by the Duke and
Duchess of Brittany (as François and Claude were called by the English)
in the evening. Neither do their letters mention the homage to St
Wolfran, but to give thanks at the parish church was usual on such
occasions and not likely to have been omitted. What a day for a girl of
nineteen to have passed through! No wonder she looked a little pale and
weary, but her spirits never flagged nor her amazing energy, and she
showed her usual zest in dancing and listening to songs and music. Her
people said she cared for nothing in the world so much as dancing and
singing, and that night she danced and smiled her way into the hearts of
the whole Court, "for she conducts herself with so much grace and has
such good manners." The enthusiastic Venetian exclaimed, "She is a
paradise!" and envied the King. The ball must have been a sumptuous
affair. English and French noblemen vied with one another in
magnificence, and their ladies, too, were glittering with jewels and
brocades, but in this trial by glory San Severino was easily the
handsomest in his gown of cloth of gold lined with superb sables. The
stuff for it, ordered specially from Florence, had only arrived the day
before, to the despair of the tailors, who had had to work all night to
have it ready for Sunday's doings.

  [305] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 5469; Calig. E. i. 79.

  [306] "Lives of the Princesses of England," v. p. 41.

  [307] C. S. P. Venice, ii. 511.

  [308] "Louise de Savoie," by La Maulde Clavière, p. 369.

  [309] C. S. P. Venice, ii. 509, 510, 511, for description of
  whole episode.

  [310] Gaguin, Chronique de France.

While one end of the town was dancing and singing, in the poorer quarter
across the river men were fighting flames for their lives and homes.
Fire had seized the wooden hovels, and no help was to be expected from
the King's men, for the tocsin was not allowed to disturb the King's
amusements. Thickly curtained windows shut out the sight of the flames
from the court, while the Italians in the house of the Venetian
ambassador watched their progress with vehement prayers for
deliverance.[311] The high wind fanned them, and many of the houses were
burnt down before the sounds of royal merriment ceased; but God was
merciful to the Italians, and the flames were got under before they
leapt the river. Thus by shipwreck and by fire was Mary's new life
ushered in.

  [311] C. S. P. Venice, ii. 511.



Mary's lodging is said to have been "at the corner of the street leading
from the Castle of Ponthieu to the rue St Giles," and this, according to
"Le Roi des Ribauds," was connected by a temporary gallery with the
Hotel Gruthuse,[312] the King's house, from which it was distanced a
short stone's throw. But the gardens adjoined, and it was by this
way,[313] the morning being fine, that the marriage procession passed
about eight o'clock on Monday, October 9, for the wedding was to take
place an hour later. First walked twenty-six knights two and two, then
followed trumpeters and all sorts of musicians and macers. Mary came
next, escorted by the Duke of Norfolk and the Marquis of Dorset. She
wore a gown of stiff gold brocade trimmed and lined with ermine, her
headgear was in the English fashion, and her jewels were of very great
price, but she was still pale and showed traces of fatigue, and,
according to the usual tradition, did not look her best as a bride, for
millinery turns its back on emotions. She was surrounded by her other
noblemen, all cap in hand, and more sumptuously dressed than for the
entry, for they all wore gowns of some kind of cloth of gold lined with
most beautiful sables, or other kind of fine fur, and their gold chains
were wearisome to look at, so burdensome did they appear in their
massiveness. After the noblemen followed the Queen's gentlewomen and
maidens in gold brocade, one after the other, walking between two
gentlemen cap in hand. Slowly this streak of moving gold passed from the
garden gate to the door of the hall where the ceremony was to take
place, by a way lined by the gentlemen of the Scots Guards with their
maces in their hands, and by the archers of the Guard. The crush at the
door was very great, and within the dim hall, lighted by windows
representing the deeds of St Wolfran, was Louis, dressed, like his wife,
in cloth of gold and ermine and seated on a chair near the altar. When
Mary appeared "the King doffed his bonnet and the Queen curtseyed to the
ground," then he kissed her, and she was seated by his side on the chair
waiting for her under a canopy held by the princes of France. The
treasurer, Robertet, now handed the King a necklace in which was set "a
great pointed diamond with a ruby almost two inches long without
foil,"[314] and Louis put it round Mary's neck. Mass then began, and the
Dauphin served the King, while Madame, "with a marvellous sorrow,"
served Mary, as she had been wont to do her mother:[315] the candles
were held by princes of France. The Cardinal of Bayeux married them and
then sung Mass, and when he gave the wafer, one half to the King and the
other to the Queen, Louis, after he had kissed and received his, turned
and kissed his wife. Then Mary again curtseyed to the ground, and
departed to her own rooms to dine with the French princesses, when she
was waited on by French officers and the Duke of Albany. The English
ambassadors dined with the Duke of Brittany and the rest of the company
in the large chamber of the King's palace where open house was kept for
all comers during three days. After dinner they all danced in the hall
till evening, and the glitter of the company can hardly be
imagined--jewels, cloths of gold and silver, brocades, and brilliant
silks; beautiful women and fine men, French and English, it was
impossible to say which were the most richly clad, only an Englishman
was always known by his heavy gold chain. In the evening Louis had Mary
dressed in French fashion and they gave a ball, and there was more
dancing, good cheer, and banqueting when Mary was served for the last
time by Englishmen, who, clad in cloth of gold, knelt the whole time.
Some thought the French fashion did not become her so well as the
English, others thought she had never looked better in her life; but
whichever may be correct, Louis at any rate could not bear her to leave
his side. She must have chattered away to him a kind of mixture of her
own desires and vague remembrances of her brother's wishes, for she
asked him to undertake a new Italian expedition, and told him she longed
above all things to go to Venice, and Louis promised that they would go
together.[316] The evening passed, "and at the eighth hour before
midnight, the Queen was taken away from the entertainment by Madame to
go and sleep with the King," and "the next morning, the 10th, the King
seemed very jovial and gay and in love by his countenance."

  [312] "Lives of the Princesses of England," vol. v. p. 42 _et

  [313] C. S. P. Venice, ii. 508, 510, 511.

  [314] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 5495; Calig. D., vi. 199.

  [315] Fleurange, _op. cit._, pp. 267-8.

  [316] C. S. P. Venice, ii. 507.

But alas! it was not for long. "Ces amoureuses nopces"[317] were too
much for him, "antique and debile" as he was, and the same day the gout
gripped him again. Perhaps it was this that made him take such a
profound dislike to old Lady Guildford and insist on her returning home.
Louis was determined to abide by the original contract, and said his
wife's foreign train was too large. Lady Guildford distrusted Louis as
profoundly as he disliked her and had an aversion not inexplicable to
leaving her pupil in the hands of such a feeble old man. She went so
far, however, as to refuse to leave them alone and when Louis would have
been "merry" she was always there with her forbidding look. Still she
was Mary's one stay in the circumstances of her marriage, and it was
hard, much probably as the Queen resented her assumed airs of authority,
to part from her. But go she had to, though Mary wept and said she had
never expected such treatment, said she would write to her brother, and
told her to wait at Boulogne till the answer arrived, for she would
reinstate her. Norfolk refused to meddle with the arrangement out of
pique, for the suite was of Wolsey's choosing, not his. Here is Mary's
indignant and peremptory letter:--

    "My good Brother, as heartily as I can I recommend me unto your
    Grace, marvelling much that I never heard from you since our
    departing, so often as I have sent and written unto you. And now
    am I left post alone in effect, for on the morn after marriage my
    chamberlain and all other men servants were discharged, and in
    like wise my mother Guildford with other my women and maidens,
    except such as never had experience nor knowledge how to
    advertise or give me counsel in any time of need, which is to be
    feared more shortly than your grace thought at the time of my
    departing, as my mother Guildford can more plainly shew your grace
    than I can write, to whom I beseech you to give credence. And if
    it may be by any mean possible I humbly require you to cause my
    said mother Guildford to repair hither once again. For else if any
    chance hap other than weal I shall not know where nor by whom to
    ask any good counsel to your pleasure nor yet to mine own profit.
    I marvel much that my lord of Norfolk would at all times so
    lightly grant everything at their requests here. I am well assured
    that when ye know the truth of everything as my mother Guildford
    can shew you, ye would full little have thought I should have been
    thus intreated; that would God my lord of York had come with me in
    the room of Norfolk; for then I am sure I should have been left
    much more at my heartsease than I am now. And thus I bid your
    grace farewell with [_mutilated_] as ever had Prince: and more
    heartsease than I have now.

    [I beseech] give credence to my mother Guildford.
      By your loving sister,
        MARY, Queen of France."[318]

  [317] Journal de Louise de Savoie, October 9, 1514.

  [318] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 5488; Calig. D., vi. 253.

Not content with this, on the same date, the day before Lady Guildford
and the rejected suite returned to England, she wrote to Wolsey: "I
recommend me unto you as heartily as I can, and as showeth [be not]
intreated as the King and you thought I should have been, for the morn
after the marriage all my servants, both men and women, were discharged.
Insomuch that my mother Guildford was also discharged, whom as you know
the King and you willed me in anywise to be counselled. But for anything
I might do in no wise might I have any grant for her abode here, which I
assure you, my lord, is much to my discomfort, besides many other
discomforts, that ye would full little have thought. I have not yet seen
in France any lady or gentlewoman so necessary for me as she is, nor yet
so meet to do the King my brother service as she is. And for my part, my
lord, as you love the King, my brother, and me, find the means that she
may in all haste come hither again, for I had as lief lose the winning I
shall have in France to lose her counsel when I shall lack it, which is
not like long to be required as I am sure the noblemen and gentlemen can
shew you more than becometh me to write in this matter. I pray you my
lord give credence to my mother Guildford in everything concerning this
matter. And albeit my lord of Norfolk hath neither dealt with me nor yet
with her at this time, yet I pray you to be a good lord unto her. And
would to God my [...] had been so good to have had you with me hither
when I had my lord of Norfolk. And thus fare ye well, my lord. My lord,
I pray you give credence to my [mother Guild]ford in my sorrows she have

    From your own while I live,
      MARY, Queen of France."[319]

  [319] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 5489; Calig. D. vi. 143.

Poor Mary, she was already paying dear, she thought, for her jewels, and
was little consoled that day by her husband's new gifts of rubies and
diamonds and pearls. But Louis had a story of his own to tell,
for Henry and Wolsey both wrote on the subject, the bishop as
follows:[320]--"Since the King, my sovereign lord and master, your good
brother had ordered on account of the true, perfect, and entire
confidence which he had in Mistress Guildford that she should be with
the Queen, his sister, your wife, on account of the good manners and
experience which he knew her to have, and also because she speaks the
language well: in order also that the said Queen, his sister, might be
better advised, and taught by her how she ought to conduct herself
towards you under all circumstances, considering, moreover, that the
Queen, his said good sister, is a young lady and that she should be
abroad, not understanding the language perfectly, and having no
acquaintance with any of the ladies there, to whom she might disclose
such feelings as women are given to, and that she had no one of her
acquaintance to whom she could familiarly tell and disclose her mind,
that she might find herself desolate as it were, and might thereby
entertain regret and displeasure, which peradventure might cause her to
have some sickness and her bodily health to be impaired, which God
forbid, and should such an accident happen, I believe, Sir, that you
would be most grieved and displeased. And whereas, Sir, I have known and
understood that the said Mistress Guildford is at Boulogne on her return
here, and that she was entirely discharged, doubting lest the King, my
master, should he know it, might think it somewhat strange, I have
ventured to write to the said lady to tarry awhile in the said town of
Boulogne until I had written to you my poor and simple opinion on this
subject, which Sir, I now do. And, by your leave, Sir, it seems to me
that you should retain her for some time in the service of the Queen,
your wife, and not discharge her so suddenly, seeing and considering
that the King, your said good brother, has taken her from a solitary
place which she had never intended to quit, to place her in the service
of the Queen, his good sister. And I have no doubt, Sir, that when you
know her well you will find her a wise, honourable, and confidential
lady, very desirous and earnest to follow out in all things possible to
her, your wish or pleasure in all that you may order or command,
whatever report has been or may be made to the contrary." Gerard
Danet[321] had been sent on with letters to Wolsey, while the good lady
planted herself at Boulogne to await the development of events which she
expected would make for her restoration, and on his way to Canterbury
had fallen in with Suffolk. The Duke wrote at once to Wolsey of the
affair in which he saw the hands of the Howards, "fader and son," and
asked Wolsey to see that something was done, for if Mary was not well
treated they would be blamed. But Louis would have none of her. First he
remarked dryly to the English agent[322] that "his wife and he be in
good and perfect love as ever two creatures can be, and both of age to
rule themself, and not to have servants that should look to rule him or
her. If his wife have need of counsel or to be ruled he is able to do
it, but he was sure it was never the Queen's mind or desire to have her
again, for as soon as she came aland, and also when he was married, she
began to take upon her not only to rule the Queen but also that she
should not come to him but that she should be with her, nor that no lady
nor lord should speak with her but she should hear it, and began to set
a murmur and a banding among the ladies of the court." "And then he
swore that there was never man that better loved his wife than he did,
but or he would have such a woman about her he had liefer be without
her." He was sure that when Henry knew all, he would be satisfied. "For
in nowise he would not have her about his wife, also he said that he is
a sickly body and not at all times that [he would] be merry with his
wife to have any strange wo[man there] but one that he is well
acquainted with [and before whom he] durst be merry, and that he is sure
[the Queen his] wife is content withal for he hath set [about her
neither] lady or gentle-woman to be with her for her [mistress but her]
servants and to obey her commandments." But poor Lady Guildford's
unkindest cut was to come from her young mistress, for three weeks after
those impassioned letters Mary calmly assured the Earl of Worcester that
"she loved my Lady Guildford well, but she is content that she come not,
for she is in that case that she may well be without her, for she may do
what she will,"[323] and Worcester adds rather doubtfully, "I pray God
that so it may continue to his pleasure."

  [320] Bethune MS. 8466, f. 61, Bib. Nat., Paris, quoted by Mrs
  Green, _op. cit._, p. 48.

  [321] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 5512; Calig. D. vi. 147.

  [322] _Ibid._, i. 5553; Calig. D. vi. 201.

  [323] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 5553; Calig. D. vi. 201.

The dismissing of the sheep dog was done by Louis but the rest of the
suite, save those in the original contract, was got rid of in a much
more ceremonious fashion by means of the Council.[324] Francis
d'Angoulême was at the bottom of it, for he did and undid all in the
court, and with him just now the English ambassadors had to reckon. He
was cordiality itself, and sent florid messages to Henry, desiring
Worcester "that sithens the Duke of Angoulême might not come to your
presence, to bear the _Earl_ of Angoulême's heart to you,"[325] and many
"other good and hearty words." He had cause for contentment if any man
of his upbringing, ambitions and temperament ever had, for his chances
of a near throne were increased rather than diminished by Louis'
marriage, which had so enfeebled the King that he could not leave his
bed "and maketh semblance as he would depart every day, but yet he lieth
still ever excusing him by his gout."[326] And his dutiful son-in-law
gaily retailed to his friend Fleuranges the greatest joy he had ever had
in his whole life of twenty years; "Je suis sure, ou on m'a bien fort
menti, qu'il est impossible que le Roi et la Reine puissent avoir
enfants."[327] Hence partly his cordiality to the king, who had sent
"une hacquenée pour le [Louis] porter plus vite et plus doucement en
Enfer ou au Paradis."

  [324] _Ibid._, i. 5495; Calig. D. vi. 199.

  [325] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 5495; Calig. D. vi. 199.

  [326] _Ibid._

  [327] Fleurange, _op. cit._, p. 269.

On Friday, October, 13, the English departed laden with presents of
plate, and with them Mary's rejected household, leaving Lady Elizabeth
Grey, Mary Fenes, Anne Boleyn, Elizabeth Grey [of Wilton], and Anne
Jerningham, most of them young and inexperienced. She retained in all
thirteen men, including Dr Denton, her almoner, and Maître Guillaume,
her physician, and six women, with Jean Barnes, "the chamberière."
Mary's eight trumpeters went away with their pockets full of gold from
the King, Monsieur, Madame, and the whole court, while the French court
musicians and singers were far from content, for the King had forbidden
them at the peril of their lives to go to play or sing as wandering
minstrels for money in the lodgings of the English. The Court continued
at Abbeville till after the 20th, and Mary was continually by the
bedside of her husband, who, she told the ambassadors, "maketh as much
of her as it is possible for any man to make of a lady."[328] She played
to him on her lute and sang, and he was never happy but in her presence,
and emptied his seven coffers of jewels slowly into her lap. The Dauphin
and Longueville were her very good friends, and both asked her to use
her influence with Henry for the deliverance at a reduced ransom of
French prisoners in whom they were interested, and she wrote twice on
the subject to her brother. There is little doubt that Mary found
Francis an amusing companion, and she probably flirted with her
son-in-law, for, after all, she was but nineteen and he but twenty, and
now she was allowed to do as she liked. Henry did not write to her, but
did to his brother-in-law, who had written to him to tell of his joy in
the prospect of having an heir. Henry replied that he hoped the rather
capricious nature of his sister would not upset these conjugal
felicities, "et ainsi lui donnâmes avisement et conseil avant son
département, et ne faisons aucun doute l'un jour plus que l'autre ne la
trouvez telle que doit être envers vous et faire toutes choses qui vous
peuvent venir à gré, plaisir ou contentement."

  [328] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 5495; Calig. D. vi. 199.

Before the departure of the English from Abbeville the Dauphin had
caused a joust to be proclaimed which was considered of extraordinary
character. In November, after the entry of the Queen into Paris he,
with nine _aides_, would answer at the barrier all comers that were
gentlemen of name and arms, on horseback and on foot. "The laws of
horseback were that with sharp speares they should run five courses at
Tilt and five more at Randon, being well armed and covered with pieces
of advantage for their best defence. After this to fight twelve strokes
with sharpe swords. This being done, he and his _aides_ offered to fight
at Barriers with the same persons with a hand spear and a sword."[329]
The French herald had carried the proclamation of the jousts to England,
and "the Duke of Suffolk, the Marquis of Dorset, and his four brethren,
the Lord Clinton, Sir Edward Nevile, Sir Giles Capell, Thomas Cheyne,
and others got licence of the King to go over to this challenge."[330]
When Suffolk met Dannet at Canterbury he was on his way to Boulogne,
where he landed on October 20, and after, no doubt, visiting Lady
Guildford with what comfort he could, he set out with the Marquis and
his brothers, who were all awaiting him "in grey coats and hoods because
they would not be known."[331] The Duke was eager to "stryke wyet the
Frynche King,"[332] and his one dread was that the Council, _i.e._ the
Duke of Norfolk and his son, the Earl of Surrey, would insist on his
returning home before this was accomplished, "Wherefore, my lord," he
wrote to Wolsey, "I beseech you hold your hand fast that I be not sent
for back." It was Suffolk's first visit to France, and his idea of
distance was insular, not continental, for he expected to be in Paris
the day after his landing at Boulogne, but travelling rapidly and
passing by Abbeville to Beauvais, they came up with the Court there on
the 25th. On hearing of their arrival Louis sent for Suffolk at once to
come to him alone, and the Duke was brought straight into the King's
room, where he was in bed, with the Queen sitting beside him. Suffolk
did his "rywarynes and knyelled down by his bed sede; [the nobleman's
own spelling] and soo he brassed me in hes armes and held me a good
wyell, and said I was hartylle wyecoum and axsed me, How dows men
esspysseal good brodar whom I am so moche bounden to lowf abouf hall the
warld?"[333] Suffolk assured Louis of Henry's goodwill and thanks for
the honour and love showed to his sister. "And upon that his Grace said
that there should [be nothing] that he will spare to do your grace's
pleasure a service, with as hearty manner as ever I saw a man: and, Sir,
I said unto him that your Grace would do unto him in like case; and he
said, I doubt it not, for I know well the nobleness, and trust so much
in your master that I reckon I have of him the greatest jewel that ever
one prince had of another." At this appropriate moment Suffolk rose from
his knees and made his reverence unto the Queen. He gave her her
brother's messages and Queen Katharine's, and was more than relieved to
see that Mary could control her feelings and order herself wisely and
honourably, "the which I assure your Grace rejoiced me not a little;
your Grace knows why." Then he goes on, "for I think there was never
queen in France that hath demeaned herself more honourably or wiselier,
and so says all the noble men in France that have seen her demeanour,
the which letted not to speak of it; and as for the King [there was]
never a man that set his mind more upon [woman] than he does on her,
because she demeans herself so winning unto him, the which I am sure
[will be no] little comfort unto your Grace." The conversation turned
upon the coming jousts, and the Duke said it would be little honour to
win, seeing there were two or three hundred answerers, and Louis said
that he would introduce him and the Marquis to the Dauphin to be his
_aides_, and sent for Francis. He came showing himself all regard and
courtesy, and in his exaggerated way declared them not _aides_ only but
brothers, and carried Suffolk off to supper. There again the
conversation was all of jousting and the King of England's prowess, and
Francis, with great tact, would talk of nothing but his admiration for
Henry's skill. During this interview there is no mention of the
"trwcheman" in the French language which last year Suffolk had found
necessary, so that he must have taken lessons since his Flemish

  [329] Herbert's History of Henry VIII., pp. 51 _et seq._

  [330] Stow's Chronicle, ed. 1592, pp. 848 _et seq._

  [331] _Ibid._

  [332] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 5512; Calig. D. vi. 147.

  [333] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 5523; Calig. D. vi. 149.

With Suffolk's coming to the Court Mary's difficulties increased, for it
was noticed that she gave him many marks of her friendship, but the
Duke, according to the testimony of the Marquis of Dorset, behaved
himself well and wisely in all matters, and the Dauphin's jealous
precautions[334] (he insisted that his wife should never leave the Queen
alone for a single minute by day, and that Madame d'Aumont should sleep
in her room at night) seemed absolutely unnecessary to any who had not
been brought up by Louise de Savoie.

  [334] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 5569; Calig. D. vi. 188.

The Queen had the pleasure of seeing Suffolk for one day only at
Beauvais, and the day after the interview the English departed with
Francis for Paris, hunting the boar by the way, when Suffolk and Dorset
both killed, and on the 28th they came to Paris to "commune" about the
jousts and to see about armour and trappings. The Court came on behind
more slowly, and did not arrive at St Denis till the 30th, where, during
the feasts of All Hallows and All Souls, they remained quietly in the
Abbey. On Friday, November 3, about ten o'clock, the English ambassadors
for the Coronation, the Duke of Suffolk, the Marquis of Dorset, the Earl
of Worcester, the Lord of St Johns [_i.e._ the prior of the English
langue of the Order of St John of Jerusalem in England], and Dr West,
were sent for, and the ceremony was announced for the following
Sunday.[335] After this official visit, Suffolk was commanded to the
King's lodging to see the two princesses. When he came in, the King "mad
me to kyes hys dawttares,"[336] and they conversed for some time about
Wolsey's affairs. These were going smoothly, for at Abbeville Louis had
ordered the French bishop-elect to retire from the contest and had told
Robertet to compensate him, and now Longueville said that everything
possible was being done about the Cardinalate. The immediate question to
be settled with the ambassadors was the meeting of the two kings, and
there was an amicable haggle over the place. While the King was
entertaining the Duke, Mary had received a very important visitor,
Louise de Savoie, mother of the Dauphin. She arrived in Paris at eleven
o'clock on the 3rd, "et celui mesme jour sans me reposer je feus
conseillée d'aller saluer la reine Marie à St Denys: et sortis de la
ville de Paris à trois heures après midy avec grand nombre de
gentishommes."[337] It is very regrettable that she did not record in
her diary her opinion of the Queen, but, on the other hand, it proves
that there was nothing to be said against Mary, for in that case it
would certainly have been her pleasure to write it.

  [335] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 5547; Calig. D. vi. 153.

  [336] _Ibid._

On Sunday, November 5, the Queen was crowned. The English were brought
to the church by M. de Montmorency, and an hour after Mary came in with
a great company of noblemen and ladies. The Dauphin led her, and before
her went the Dukes of Alençon, Bourbon, Longueville, Albany, the Count
of Vendôme, and the Count of St Pol, with many others. The Queen kneeled
before the altar, and was anointed by the Cardinal of Brie, who
delivered to her the sceptre and the vierge of justice, put a ring upon
her finger, and lastly set the crown upon her head, "which done the Duke
of Brittany (_i.e._ the Dauphin) led her to a stage made on the left
side of the altar, where she was set in a chair, under a c[loth of
State], and the said Duke stood behind her holding th[e crown] from her
head to ease her by the weight thereo[f. And] then the High Mass sungen
by the said Cardinal, whereat the Queen departed. After Agnus she [was]
houseld. Mass done, she departed to the p[alace] and we to our lodgings
to our dinners."[338] Louis had watched the ceremony privately, and next
day he left the abbey about seven in the morning for Paris, and Mary
followed about nine to make her solemn entry. After dinner at the
Chapelle St Denis began the wearisome ceremonial, a repetition on a more
grandiose scale of the entry into Abbeville. The city sent deputations
to greet her, the law and the merchants likewise, and as Mary's French
was not equal to the burden of replying to their welcome, the Archbishop
of Paris had to be her spokesman. This was just outside the barriers,
where the procession was formed, a replica of that at Abbeville. There
were the same guards, the mingling of the French and English heralds,
royal and noble, the Princes of the blood, the Queen's courser and
palfrey, and then Mary, this time seated in her litter of state, wearing
her crown, glittering with jewels worn on her gown of cloth of gold and
in her hair. The Dauphin, "lui aussi tout or et diamants," again rode by
her side, and they frequently spoke together. Then followed as before
the ladies, the French princesses, and the State carriages of the Queen
with her ladies and damsels. At the Porte St Denis the trades were
waiting with a canopy of cloth of gold embroidered with roses and
lilies, and this they bore over the Queen, but, once inside the gate,
another halt had to be made to allow a second canopy borne by the
merchants and burgesses to be placed over that of the trades. At this
point was an allegorical display on a tapestry-covered scaffold of the
arms of the city of Paris, a galley under sail with the four winds
blowing with bursting cheeks upon it. On the deck were Ceres and
Bacchus, while Paris held the tiller. Sailors manned the yards and

    "Noble dame bien soit venue en France:
    Par toi vivons en plaisir et en joye,
    Francoys, Angloys vivent à leur plaisance:
    Louange à Dieu du bien qu'il nous envoye."

Mary's courteous grace in acknowledging the acclamation with which she
was greeted as usual pleased the people, and she passed on down the
tapestry-hung streets, and through the crowds of cheering people, passed
the Fontaine du Ponceau, where the water was scattered over two plants,
a lily and a rose; passed the convent of the Holy Trinity, where she saw
herself presenting the Pax to her husband, passed the Porte au Peintres,
the Holy Innocents, and then on by the Chatelet, where Justice and Truth
met together, and she herself, labelled "Stella Maris," was in the
foreground, to the Palais Royale, where the angel Gabriel was greeting
Mary in the field of France, and they sang,

    "Comme la paise entre Dieu et les hommes
    Par le moyen de la vierge Marie
    Fut jadis faicte, ainsy à présent somme
    Bourgoys Francoys deschargez de nos sommes
    Car Marie avecque nous se marie."

But this was not the end, though the afternoon was wearing on. The
procession now proceeded to Notre Dame de Paris, where all the learned
in theology, law and medicine met her in their furred gowns, and outside
the church she was harangued by a venerable doctor. Through the open
doors of the Cathedral could be seen dimly the group of great
ecclesiastics waiting to welcome her. Mary got out of her litter and
entered the doors, and at once the bells rang out, and the organs
sounded, while the whole clergy chanted the Te Deum, as they turned and
led the procession to the high altar. There the whole company adored the
Mass, and then the Archbishop of Paris bade the Queen welcome. Back
again in her litter to the Palais Royale (and it was now six o'clock)
went the Queen with no chance of rest, for the gargantuan part of her
day's work remained, and she had to sup in public at the celebrated
marble table, the centre of the government of France. In the Grande
Salle the doric pillars were all surrounded by sideboards laden with
gold and silver plate, the walls were hung with tapestry, and the air
was so melodious with clarion and trumpet, that it seemed paradise
rather than a room in an earthly palace. Mary had Madame Louise de
Savoie, and her daughter the Duchess of Alençon, with the Duchess of
Nevers, at her table, while her ladies, English and French, dined near
by. There were many wonderful dishes of the four and twenty blackbirds
type; a phœnix beating its wings till fire consumed it; a cock and a
hare jousting; a St George on horseback leading La Pucelle against the
English. The heralds and musicians cried "Largesse," and Mary gave to
them a ship of silver, and at last, after being rejoiced by a few more
pastimes and diversions, she was at liberty to take her leave.[339] Next
day after Mass she rode to the Hôtel des Tournelles (which Suffolk calls
Turnells _tout court_), and there she found her husband awaiting her.
The remainder of the week was filled by ceremonies incident to the
presentations of gifts by the guilds and merchants of the city of Paris,
but Mary found time to write to Wolsey for temporary help till her
estate was settled for her whilom French master, John Palsgrave, who had
not returned to England with the rest of her rejected train, but had
made his way to Paris, evidently encouraged by his mistress, in order to

  [337] "Journal de Louise de Savoie," November 3, 1514.

  [338] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 5560; Calig. D. vi. 205.

  [339] Vespasian B. ii., quoted by Mrs Green, _op. cit._, pp. 56
  _et seq._

  [340] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 5582. R.O.



On Monday, September 28, before the marriage, Montjoye, the French
Herald, had carried the French challenge to England, and the jousts had
been proclaimed at Canterbury by the Garter King at Arms. The date now
had been definitely fixed for November 13, and nothing else was talked
of in Paris, while the Dauphin was and had been so busy with the
arrangements that he had not attended any councils, nor taken part in
any of the deliberations with the English ambassadors.[341] The Earl of
Dorset had no very exalted opinion of him as a jouster, and he told
Wolsey that "we found him and his company not like as they have been
named; for though they do run trimly and handle themself well [enough]
with their small and light staves, they could not well trim themselves
in their harn[ess but] be content to have our poor advices."[342] But if
he knew little about harness he took delight in organizing the
ceremonies of the occasion, and erected an arch triumphant at Les
Tournelles, in the rue St Antoine, on which four shields were to be
placed, and the rules were "that he who would touch any of them must
first enter his name and arms. That he who touched the first which was
silver should run at tilt according to the articles, who touched the
golden should run at Randon as above mentioned. He that touched the
black shield should fight on foot with hand spears or swords for the one
hand: six foynes with the hand spear, and then eight strokes to the most
advantage (if the spear so long held), and after that twelve strokes
with the sword. He that touched the tawny shield should cast a spear on
foot with a target on his arm and after fight with a two-handed
sword."[343] The weather made the preparations difficult. It poured
constantly, and the floor of the lists was every day a serious question,
for the sand strewn upon it was daily washed away.[344] Francis was
determined that the tourney should outshine in all things the tales he
had heard of English magnificence, and money flowed like water, "une
véritable débauche d'or et d'argent." Armourers, painters and tailors
were all reaping a golden harvest, and he borrowed and bought horses
wherever he could.[345] It was all for a woman's eyes too, for the
Dauphin's passion for his mother-in-law was becoming notorious, and the
story goes that he had even arranged to surprise Mary one night in her
room, but was prevented by a friend of his own, whose reasoning was too
forcible to be disregarded.[346] His mother also remonstrated, and it
was possibly at this time that Suffolk had "words" with him. Francis had
to content himself with outdoing his rival in millinery, for it was
absurd that he should have even hoped to overcome him in the lists, and
for this he had no opportunity, though Suffolk had hoped and longed to
come to strokes with the French King, and, failing him, with Francis.
Suffolk and Dorset rode with the Dauphin's other _aides_, and wore, like
the rest, cloth of gold covered with cloth of silver with trappings of
cloth of gold and crimson satin for their horses. The officers of the
lists, the musicians, and all connected with the fête were glittering in
the same stuffs. At last the longed-for Monday arrived. Louis was so
feeble that he was carried in a litter and lay on a couch in the royal
stand, while Mary sat beside him. She was received, as usual, with
acclamation. From the very opening of the jousts the English champions
were the heroes of the crowd, especially Suffolk, whose prowess easily
placed him first. All the chivalry of France was there: Bourbon,
Lorraine, St Pol, Aragon [the bastard], Lautrec, Bayard, Bonnivet,
Montmorency; and the Marquis of Dorset modestly described the English
fortunes to Wolsey. On Monday, the 13th inst., the jousts began, and
continued three days. The Duke of Suffolk and he ran three days and lost
nothing. One Frenchman was slain at the tilt and divers horses. "On
Saturday, the 18th, the tourney and course in the field began as roughly
as ever I saw, for there were divers times both horse and man
overthrown, horses slain and one French man hurt that he is not like to
live. My lord of Suffolk and I ran the first day thereat, but put our
_aides_ thereto because there was no nobleman to be put unto us; but
poor men of arms and Scots, many of them, were hurt on both sides, but
no great hurt, and of our Englishmen none overthrown nor greatly hurt
but a little of their hands." On Tuesday, the 21st, the fighting on foot
began, "to the which they brought an Almayn that never came into the
field before and put him to my lord of Suffolk to have us put to shame,
but advantage they gat none of us, but rather the contrary. I forbear
to write more of our chances because I am party therein. I ended without
any manner hurt. My lord of Suffolk is a little hurt in his hand."[347]
The overwhelming superiority of his rival roused all that was meanest in
Francis. He had been slightly wounded in the hand, a mere nothing, which
sent his mother into convulsions, and therefore not being present, he,
as Dorset said above, "brought a man secretly which in all the court of
France was the tallest and strongest man; and he was an Almayn; and put
him in the place of another person to have had the Duke of Suffolk
rebuked. The same great Almayn came to the bars fiercely with face hid,
because he would not be known, and bare his spear to the Duke of Suffolk
with all his strength, and the Duke him received, and for all his
strength put him by strong strokes from the barriers, and with the butt
end of the spear strake the Almayn that he staggered; but for all that
the Almayn strake strongly and hardly at the Duke, and the judges
suffered many more strokes to be foughten than were appointed; but when
they saw the Almayn reel and stagger then they let fall the rail between
them."[348] "Then they took some breath and returned to fight again;
when the Duke so pommelled the Almayn about the head that blood gushed
from his nose, which being done the Almayn was conveyed away
secretly."[349] And so Francis was hoist with his own petard, and gained
neither fight nor mistress, for Mary's feelings, national and personal,
were roused to scorn by this attempt to steal her lover's glory. She had
already complained to the English ambassadors of his attentions as
would seem by Suffolk's letter of November 18, when he said the Queen
had disclosed to him and to Dorset divers things which they felt they
could not wholly repeat to their fellow ambassadors or write safely in a
letter, but which made them anxious to leave her in the hands of good
friends.[350] Louis, in his love for his wife, his hatred of his
successor, and his honest appreciation of a good fight, was entirely in
sympathy with his wife, and told her, she repeated exultingly to the
Englishmen, that they had shamed all France and that they would carry
the prize into England.[351] Francis was for the moment eclipsed, and
Louis consulted him no more, but transacted business in his bedroom with
Mary by his side. But the Dauphin was of that enviable band who never
feel the shame of defeat and never allow mere personal feelings to
interfere with their future, and he gave up for the moment his pursuit
of his mother-in-law and threw himself just as ardently into his
intrigue with Madame de Châteaubriant.

  [341] La Maulde Clavière, _op. cit._ 370.

  [342] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 5569; Calig. D. vi. 188.

  [343] Herbert's Life of Henry VIII., p. 51 _et seq._

  [344] La Maulde Clavière, _op. cit._ 377.

  [345] _Ibid._

  [346] _Ibid._, 383.

  [347] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 5606; Calig. D. vi. 192.

  [348] Hall's Chronicle, ed. 1809, p. 572.

  [349] Herbert's Life of Henry VIII., p. 51 _et seq._

  [350] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 5590; Calig. D. vi. 156.

  [351] _Ibid._, i. 5606; Calig. D. vi. 192.

The Earl of Dorset and the other ambassadors, all pensioners of the
French treasury, were to return to England on the 27th or 28th, but
Suffolk, who had received a large sum of money and also a pension,
remained to transact some secret business for the recovery of Navarre.
The departure of the English marked practically the close of the
marriage festivities, for with the exception of another "repas
pantagruélique" at the Hotel de Ville, given by the city to the Queen
and Court, followed by a florid oration from a deputation from the
University, Mary lived quietly with her husband at St Germains-en-Laye,
whither the Court had retired on the 23rd.

  [Illustration: FRANCIS I

The French chroniclers, who suggest that Mary's one idea was to have a
son, and to give an heir to France, go certain lengths in their
inferences which are not borne out by such contemporary papers as are to
be found. Above all, they presuppose that the Queen was capable of a
subtle policy to supplant the Dauphin with his own bastard, or failing
that with Suffolk's. Against the first possibility has to be put the
fact that she was in love with Suffolk, and that this constantly overlay
her attitude to Francis, for she was always more woman than queen;
against the second, that Suffolk's career depended entirely on his
master's pleasure and his happiness on the famous water-side promise, so
that it would have been sheer madness in him to have risked either, when
before his eyes Death was preparing to do his part in his future
felicity. Why should he be the lover of his master's sister and heir,
when a few months might see him her husband? He was also ambitious. The
judgment of French writers falls short of the events, and is bound up
with the sentiment of Francis' couplet,

    "Souvent femme varie
    bien fol qui s'y fie.--"

Above all, Mary had no political genius, and one suspects her of being
mentally incapable of either conceiving or carrying out such a plan.

The second week in December saw Suffolk depart, carrying with him the
good wishes of Louis, who said he had seldom seen a man he liked better,
and wrote to Henry that his "virtues, manners, politeness, and good
condition" deserved the greatest honours.[352] The secret business had
been dispatched. Henry, to revenge himself on Spain and Flanders,
revived his father's policy, and wanted to claim the throne of Castile
in the right of his wife, and he asked Louis to co-operate in Navarre.
On this subject the King and the Duke mutually groped at one another
with pleasant words, till they arrived at the conclusion that Louis was
willing to join Henry, but in return pressed his own claims on Milan,
and asked for help towards the recovery of that duchy. Suffolk also bore
the news that the King of France was desperately ill, for it was easily
seen that the doctors had been right and that Louis would never recover
the strength shattered by his marriage. The change from methodical
sobriety to fêtes and late hours; he used to go to bed at six, and now
it was generally midnight; the constant excitement and movement were too
much for his feeble health, and, as has been seen, he had spent much of
the time since his marriage in bed or on a couch. Fleurange's
contemporary account of these last days is worth quoting: "Le roi partit
du palais (S. Germain-en-Laye) et s'en vint loger aux Tournelles à Paris
parce-que le lieu est en meilleur air, et aussi ne se sentait pas fort
bien, car il avait voulu faire du gentil compagnon avec sa femme; mais
il s'abusait, car il n'était pas homme pour ce faire: car de longtemps
il était fort malade et spécialement des gouttes, et avoir déjà cinq ou
six ans qu'il en avait cuidé mourir, car il fut abandonné par les
médecins et vivait d'un merveilleusement grand régime lequel il rompit
quand il fut avec sa femme; et lui disaient bien les médecins que s'il
continuait il en mourrait pour se jouir. Ceux de la basoche à Paris
disaient que le roi d'Angleterre avait envoyé une hacquenée au roi de
France pour le porter bientôt et plus doucement en enfer ou au paradis.
Toutefois lui étant malade envoya quérir Monsieur d'Angoulême, et lui
dit qu'il se trouvait fort mal et que jamais n'en échaperait; de
laquelle chose le dit sieur le reconfortait à son pouvoir, et qu'il
faisait ce qu'il pouvait. Et fit le dit seigneur Roi à sa mort tout
plein de mines; Nonobstant quand il se fut bien défendu contre la mort
il mourut par un premier jour de l'an, sur lequel jour fit le plus
horrible temps que jamais on vit."[353]

  [352] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 5717; Calig. D. vi. 146.

  [353] Fleurange, _op. cit._, xlv. 271 _et seq._

The traditional picture of Mary during these days shows her at his
bedside, amusing him by singing and playing, and the last letter of
Louis XII., written a few days before his death to Henry VIII., is in
praise of his wife, "who has hitherto conducted herself, and still does
every day towards me in such a manner that I cannot but be delighted
with her, and love and honour her more and more each day."[354]
Tradition also says that she was kept in ignorance of her husband's
hopeless condition, and that on the night of his death she had gone off
to bed as usual, believing that this was only a rather worse
attack.[355] But the young Queen had eyes in her head and could use
them, and that she was expecting the event and that Suffolk had gone
home prepared for it is seen by Wolsey's letter of the last days of
December, or the early days of January, wherein he offers his
consolation in the danger, and perhaps death, of the King, for "in
likelihood or this time he is departed to the mercy of God," and though
she was not there at midnight when the long struggle ended, her
representatives were.

  [354] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 5717; Calig. D. vi. 146.

  [355] "Epitre de la reine Marie: Epitres Morales et Familières,"
  J. Bouchet.

Thus, on New Year's Day, 1515, the Dauphin's lucky day, Francis I. began
to reign at Paris, while the same day Brussels saw her Prince also take
up the reins of government.



Tradition says that Mary fainted on being told of the death of her
husband, and in spite of the covert sneers of his countrymen, the thing
is not impossible, for her situation, difficult as it had been, became
now a hundred times more so, and for the moment she might easily fall
under its weight. For the moment there were ceremonies to be gone
through, and the King had to be carried away from the palace to the
melancholy sound of the tinkling "campanes" and cries of "le bon roi
Louis, père du peuple, est mort," to lie in state in the church of Notre
Dame, and afterwards through the mud to St Denis for burial, while his
widow had to flit from Les Tournelles to the Clugny Palace by the river,
where la Reine Blanche, as the widow of the French King was always
called, was expected to mourn for six weeks. There, clad in white, the
Queen was supposed to keep her bed for that time, with curtained windows
and by candle light, secluded from the world and surrounded by her
women. Francis showed himself very sympathetic, and Mary kept the same
state there as though she had been Queen, while every evening he visited
her and comforted her according to his views. The Venetian ambassador
says that Mary at once said that the Dauphin could call himself King,
for she was not going to have a child, but, as was the custom, he had to
wait three weeks before etiquette allowed him to assume the title.

News was at once sent by Mary to England, and she awaited letters which
would tell her that her brother was going to keep the promise he had
given at the water-side at Dover. For there had been, she herself
confessed it, at some time or other stolen meetings between her and
Suffolk, and sweet words, and with the short memory of youth she had
already cast the disagreeable past behind her and was looking into the
future. The first letter which reached her was the one from Wolsey[356]
already quoted, written before the news of Louis's death had reached
England. He offered his consolation and advice "how your Grace shall
demean [yourself] being in this heaviness and among strangers far from
[your] most loving brother, and other your assumed friends and servants.
Touching your consolation, I most heartily beseech your Grace with
thanksgiving to God to take wisely and patiently such visitation of
Almighty God, against whose ordinance no earthly creature may be, and
not by extremity of sorrow to hurt your noble person." He assured her
that Henry will not forsake her, and begs her for the old service the
writer has done her to do nothing without the advice of his Grace,
however she should be persuaded to the contrary, and to let nothing pass
her mouth, "whereby any person in these parts may have [you] at any
advantage. And if any motions of marriage or other fortune to be made
unto you in no wise give hearing to them. And thus doing, ye shall not
fail to have the King fast and loving to you, to attain to your desire
[and come] home again into England with as much honour as [Queen ever]
had. And for my part to the effusion of my [blood and spen]ding of my
goods I shall never forsake nor leav[e you.]" Henry sent her his
surgeon, Master John,[357] with letters of comfort, telling her to make
ready to return to England, but for all that her letter to him shows she
was in very low spirits, with fits of hysterical crying and

  [356] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. (i.) 15; Calig. D. vi. 268.

  [357] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. (i.) 81; Calig. D. vi. 251.

  [358] _Ibid._

As was to be expected, the party opposed to Suffolk and Wolsey in the
Council, led by Norfolk, used all means to prevent the marriage, and
attacked Mary herself through her confessor, Father Langley,[359] who
came to her one day to ask her to be shriven. But she said no, she had
no mind for confession, and would say nothing of what was in her mind.
"And then the said friar shewed her that he had the same day said mass,
and he sware by the Lord he had that day consecrated and that under
_benedicite_ he would shew her divers things that were of truth, and of
which he had perfect knowledge, desiring her to give him hearing and to
keep the same to herself." Then he went on to tell her of the bruit in
England that she was to be married to Suffolk, and advised her to beware
of him, for he and Wolsey meddled with the devil, and by his puissance
they kept their master subject to them, especially Suffolk, who had
caused the disease in Sir William Compton's leg. This Father Langley
knew for a fact, she need have no doubt of its truth, and the only thing
to be done to save her soul was to hinder Suffolk's "voyage." [There
seems to have been a second friar in the plot, but the letter is burnt
and mutilated, and it is impossible to get the exact sense.] It was a
tactless, useless move on Norfolk's part, for Mary, being a woman in
love, gave the friar "small comfort," and from the interview merely
gathered what fed her desire, that the people in England were openly
speaking of her coming marriage with Suffolk. In his daily visits,
Francis had hinted at other marriages, and suggested as husbands the
Duke of Savoy[360] and the Duke of Lorraine, or else that she should not
marry, but remain in France and hold her Court at Blois, of which
country he offered her the revenues, and then made suit unto her, "not
according with mine honor," as she wrote. He played his best card,
however, when he told her that Suffolk's coming to fetch her home was
only a blind, for under secret promise of marriage she was to be decoyed
back into England and then married to the Prince of Castile.[361] There
can be little doubt that the King played with the helpless creature, and
renewed his love-making in the newly darkened mourning room to her
"extreme pain and annoyance." No wonder she had fits of "the mother,"
and wept piteously and exclaimed passionately that rather than go to
England, to be married again to any strange prince, she would live and
die in a convent, and thus she wrote to her brother. "I would be very
glad to hear that your Grace were in good health and p[eace], the which
should be a great comfort to me, and that it would please your Grace to
send more oft time to me than you do, for as now I am all out of
comfort saving that all my trust is in your Grace and so shall be during
my life. Sir, I pray your Grace will send hither as soon as you may
possibly hither to me. Sir, I beseech your Grace that you will keep all
the promises that you promised me when I took my leave of you by the
w[ater s]ide. Sir, your Grace knoweth well, that I did marry for your
p[leasure a]t this time, and now I trust that you will suffer me to
[marry as] me l[iketh fo]r to do ... for I assure your Grace that [my
mi]nd is not there where they would have me, and I trust [your Grace]
will not do so to me that has always been so glad to fulfil your mind as
I have been. Wherefore, I beseech your Grace for to be good lord and
brother to me, for, sir, an if your Grace will have gran[ted] me married
in any place sav[ing] whereas my mind is, I will be there whereas your
Grace nor no other shall have any joy of me, for I promise your Grace
you shall hear that I will be in some religious house, the which I think
your Grace would be very sorry of, and all your realm. Also, sir, I know
well that the King that is [my s]on will send unto your Grace by his
uncle the Duke of [Savoy] for to marry me here.... [I sha]ll never be
merry at my heart (for an ever that I d[o marr]y while I live), I trow
your Grace knoweth as well as I do, and did before I came hither, and so
I trust your Grace will be contented, unless I would never marry while I
live, but be there where never man nor woman shall have joy of me.
Wherefore I beseech your Grace to be good lord to him and to me both,
for I know well that he hath [...] to your Grace of him and me both.
Wherefore an your Grace be good lord to us both, I will not care for all
the world else, but beseech your Grace to be good lord and brother to
me, as you have been here aforetime f[or in you] is all the trust that I
have in this world after God. No m[ore from m]e at this [time]. God send
your Grace [long life an]d your heart's de[sires].

    By your humble and loving sister,
      MARY, Queen of France.[362]

    To the King my brother, this
      to be delivered in haste."

  [359] _Ibid._, ii. (i.) 80 and 138; Calig. D. vi. 179 and 187.

  [360] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. (i.) 80; Calig. D. vi. 179.

  [361] _Ibid._

  [362] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. (i.) 228; Calig. D. vi. 249.
  Green's "Royal and Illustrious Ladies," i. 187.

All her fears seemed at first for nothing. Henry was quite willing she
should marry his favourite, and had she but kept her mental poise she
would have carried her love to a triumphant open marriage. But six weeks
in a darkened room, with Francis, "who looked like the devil," her
visitor every evening, her mouth closed by command of her brother and
her adviser Wolsey, her nerves racked by whispers of false dealing at
home and by the senseless suspicions that attack all lovers, had wrought
her to no state of cool reasonableness by the time Suffolk and his
fellow-ambassadors arrived.


There is absolutely no doubt that Henry meant to keep his famous
"water-side" promise, and immediately on receiving official notice, on
January 14, of the death of the French King, sent the Duke of Suffolk,
Sir Richard Wingfield, and Dr Nicholas West, to condole with Francis and
to congratulate him. Their credentials also were for the arranging of
the return of the Queen and her dowry. At Suffolk's last interview with
Henry at Eltham,[363] before he set out, the King disclosed to him his
mind about his sister, but made him promise on oath that he would be
nothing to her save the ambassador of the King of England till he had
brought her safe out of France. Henry knew his sister's impulsive nature
and trusted his friend absolutely. Suffolk gave the oath, and said he
would rather be torn by wild horses than break it. They clasped hands
upon it, and the Duke set out for his undoing by a woman's tears.

  [363] _Ibid._, ii. (i.) 224. R.O.

Mary had in the meantime replied[364] to Wolsey's letter much in the
same tone as she wrote to her brother, "and whereas you advise me that I
should make no promise [of marriage] my lord, I trust the King my
brother and you will not reckon in me such childhood." It passed her
knowledge how Wolsey and Henry could for one moment imagine she would
have anything to do with a foreign marriage, and when Francis continued
to assure her that he knew from the state of affairs in Flanders that
Suffolk's coming was only a blind to entice her home, "for if she went
to England she should go to Flanders" as wife of the Prince, she wept
bitterly; and on the King pressing his own suit as a means of escape
from such fortune she wiped her tears and said, "Sir, I beseech you that
you will let me alone and speak no more to me of the matter, and if you
will promise me by your faith and truth and as you are a true prince
that you will keep it counsel and help me, I will tell you all my whole
mind."[365] For she feared, remembering that Francis and Suffolk had had
words about her, that ill might fortune to the Duke. Francis, possibly
seeing in this one way of getting within her guard, gave her his faith
in her hand that he would keep what she told him secret and help her to
the best of his power. So the tangled creature cast herself on his mercy
and told him all her mind and all that had passed between her and
Suffolk down to some secret "ware"[366] word they had used, and no doubt
grew happier in the telling. She ended by saying that she feared her
brother's displeasure, and implored Francis to write to him to get his
consent. This the King promised to do on the understanding that his
hunting of her should never be disclosed to Henry, for it would not
tally well with the filial attitude he had assumed in his letters. He
felt he had done a good evening's work, for he was not one to play a
losing game, and he now had Suffolk in his hands for as the price of his
marriage he could exact the Duke's help in gaining Tournay from Henry,
while after all Mary as the richest marriage in Europe would hardly have
been allowed to remain quietly at Blois.

  [364] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. (i.) 16; Vesp. F. xiii. 202._b_.

  [365] _Ibid._, ii. (i.) 134; Calig. D. vi. 163.

  [366] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. (i.) 101; Calig. D. vi. 174.

On Saturday, the 27th January,[367] Suffolk arrived at Senlis, and
there, hearing that Francis was at Rheims, "where he was sacred on S.
Paul's day," he sent a message asking for an audience. Francis sent word
that he was glad of their coming, and he would either come to them on
Candelmas Eve or else they might come to him straightway. For
convenience' sake, on the advice of the Admiral Bonnivet, the embassy
decided to wait till Thursday, and on that day their old friend
Longueville appeared at their lodging to take them out of the town,
about a mile, to meet the King and to make his entry with him. "He
received them heartily, asking for the health of the King and the
Queen's grace, and conversed with them as lovingly and familiarly as
ever he did, expressing his pleasure for the renewal of the peace
between the two countries, and also touching the Queen's grace your
sister's affairs." That afternoon, at 2 o'clock, Suffolk had his state
audience for condolence and congratulation and renewal of the amity. He
also thanked Francis in the King's name, "for the singular comfort he
had given the Queen in this her heaviness, reciting how lovingly he had
written to your Grace by his last letters, that he would neither do her
wrong nor suffer her to take wrong of any other person, but be to her as
a loving son should be to his mother, praying him of continuance.
Whereunto he answered that he might do no less with his honour, seeing
that she was your sister, a noble princess and married to his
predecessor. And h[ow] lovingly he had behaved him to her, he said, he
trusted that she should make report herself to [you], and that that he
did, he did with good heart, and n[ot grudingly] and much the rather for
your Grace's sake."[368] They then asked for licence to condole with
Mary, and he answered he was well content. Thus far all was ceremony.
Later in the afternoon the real encounter took place and Suffolk had to
cry _touché_. Francis sent for him to his bedroom, and without preface
said, "My lord of Suffolk, so it is that there is a bruit in this my
realm, that you are come to marry the Queen, your master's sister."[369]
Suffolk stood his ground and remembered his promise. "I trust your
grace," he replied, "would not reckon so great folly in me to come into
a strange realm to marry the Queen of the realm without your knowledge
and without authority from my master, and that I have not, nor was it
ever intended on my master's part nor on mine." But Francis answered,
"Not so," and "for then," goes on Suffolk's letter, "[as], I would not
be plain with him, he would be plain with me, and showed me that the
Queen had broken her mind unto him, and that he had promised her his
faith and truth, and of the truth of a King, that he would help her and
d[o what was possi]ble in him to help her to obtain [her heart's
desi]re. 'And because' [, went on Francis], 'that you shall not th[ink
that I do] bear you in this hand and that [she has not spo]ke her mind,
I will s[hew you some wor]ds that you had to her, and so showed me a
_ware_ word, the which none alive could tell them but she; and when that
then I was abashed and he saw that, and said, 'because for you shall say
that you have found a kind prince and a loving, and because you shall
not think m[e other], here I give you in your hand my faith and truth by
the word of a King, that I shall never fail unto you but to help and
advance this matter betwixt her and you with as good a will as [I] would
for mine[self].' And when he had done this I could do none less than
thank his Grace for the great goodness that his Grace intended to show
unto the Queen and me, and by it I showed his Grace that I was like to
be undone if this matter came to the knowledge of the King my master.
And then he said, 'Let me alone for that; I and the Queen shall so
instance your master that I trust he would be content, and because I
would gladly put your heart at rest I will when I come to Paris speak
with the Queen, and she and I both will write letters to the King your
master, with our own hands in the best manner that can be
devised.'"[370] Suffolk was overjoyed, "bounden to God," but cautious.
The man he most feared as an obstacle was "contented to be the doer of
the act himself and to instance the King my master in the same."[371]
This would also improve Henry's position towards the anti-Suffolk party
in the Council, for if he allowed the marriage at the express desire of
the French King, "his Grace shall be marvellously discharged against his
Council as all the other noblemen of his realm."[372] Still Suffolk's
experience had been that Francis was not without guile and he would not
act, he said, till he had heard from Wolsey, whom he prayed "with all
the haste possible send me your best [counsel what yo]u shall think best
that I shall [do in this mat]ter; and if you shall think good [to
advertise hi]s Grace of this letter I pray you [to give mi]ne assurances
to his Highness that I had [rather an I dared, have written] unto him
myself."[373] This was written ten leagues from Paris on February 3rd.
The following day, Sunday, the embassy reached Paris, and the impatient
Queen could not wait till Monday, but sent for Suffolk at once. Then all
her emotion burst forth, and she poured out to his willing ears all the
worries and distresses of her mind, and told him imperiously that she
wanted none other husband but he, "if I would be ordered by her, she
would never have none but me." She said that unless he married her
before they went to England she would neither marry him nor go to
England, and she wept. He asked her what she meant by that, "and,"
Suffolk's letter goes on, "she said the best in France had said unto her
that and she went to England she should go to Flanders. To the which she
said she had rather to be torn in pieces than ever she should come
there, and with that wept. Sir, I never saw woman so weep. And when I
saw [that] I showed unto her Grace that there was none such thing [upon]
my faith with the best words I could, but in none ways I could make her
to believe it. And when I saw that, I showed her Grace that and her
Grace would be content to write unto your Grace and to obtain your good
will I would be content, or else I durst not because I had made unto
your Grace such a promise." Her lover's caution angered Mary, for having
thrown herself with abandon into the situation, she resented his
thinking of a mere promise to a third person where she was concerned, so
she reasoned and threatened: "if the King my brother is content and the
French King both, the tone by his letters and the tother by his words
that I should have you, I will have the time after my desire, or else I
may well think that the words of [them] in these parts and of them in
England [be] true, and that is that you are come to _tyes_ me home [to
the in]tent that I may be married into Fland[ers] which I never will, to
die for it, and so [I posse]ssed the French King and you came; and th[at
of] you will not be content to follow [my] end look never after this
d[ay to have] the proffer again." Here was a cruel dilemma; to lose
either his master's favour or his mistress's love! Had Francis not
spoken Suffolk might possibly have held out, for there was his promise,
but now things seemed in train to a happy issue and rather "than to lose
all" he promised to marry her before they went to England. Mary was not
content with that, and said if he did not marry her within four days he
would never have her, and to this also he consented. Were Sir Richard
Wingfield and Dean West to know of their decision? No, decided Mary,
for they would only give "mo counsel to the contrary," and Suffolk knew
this to be true as the least devoir of sensible men, so they were left
in the dark.[374] The next day Wingfield and West came to visit her,
"and according to our instructions made overtures to her at length of
your grace's mind and pleasure as well touching that she shall not
consent to any motion of marriage in these parts, as also she shall not
determine her mind to make her abode there, but to apply herself to
follow your mind and pleasure in that behalf." She thanked them, "like a
wise, substantial, and Christian princess," for the King for sending my
Lord of Suffolk to comfort her in her heaviness and to obtain her dower.
"She said she were an unkind sister if she should not follow your mind
and pleasure in every behalf, for there was never princess so much
beholden to her sovereign and brother as she is to your Grace, and
therefore, as touching consent to any marriage in these parts, she
trusteth that your Grace knoweth her mind therein, and albeit she has
been sore pressed in that matter by the King [that now is] as other, yet
she never consented, nor never would do [but rather] suffer the
extremity of death. And as touching her [stay] here, she never was nor
is minded there to, for she [counts] every day a hundred till she may
see your Grace." The ambassadors added that the report was that "la
Royne Blanche" was to be married to the Duke of Lorraine. The next day
Wingfield and West supped with Mary's ladies,[375] and no doubt
gossipped about possibilities, while Suffolk supped with the Queen, and
she amplified her former confidences. They decided to tell Wolsey
openly of the difficulties of her position, but to say nothing of the
secret marriage, and by the same post to write to the King.

  [367] _Ibid._, ii. (i.) 105; Calig. D. vi. 206.

  [368] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. (i.) 105; Calig. D. vi. 206.

  [369] _Ibid._, ii. (i.) 106; Calig. D. vi. 174.

  [370] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. (i.) 106; Calig. D. vi. 174.

  [371] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. (i.) 106; Calig. D. vi. 174.

  [372] _Ibid._

  [373] _Ibid._

  [374] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. (i.) 80; Calig. D. vi. 179.

  [375] _Ibid._, ii. (i.) 139; Calig. D. vi. 209.

To Henry Suffolk wrote, and after telling how he had delivered the
letters to Mary, who was not a little glad and bounden to God, who had
given her so loving a brother, both father and brother to her, and how
she prayed that she might live no longer than that she might do that
thing that should be to his contentation [this is the Duke's paraphrase,
no doubt], he goes on, "So when I had been there awhile I was in hand
with her Grace, and asked her how the French King did with her Grace and
how she found him. And she said at the beginning he was in hand with her
of many matters, but after he heard say that I was come, he said unto
her Grace that he would trouble her no more with no such matter, but be
glad to do for her as he would do for his own mother, and prayed [her
that] she would not be a known of none thing that he had spoken to her,
neither to your Grace nor me, for because your Grace should take no
unkindness there in. [And further] he said that wheresoever her mind was
[for to mar]ry he would be glad to help her there[to with all] his
heart, and so since he never me[ddled other]wise, but as he would be to
her as [to his m]other. And so, Sir, I perceive that he had [regard to]
your Grace, for I think he [would not] to do anything that should
discontent [your Grace or your] Grace should think any unkindness, in
w[hich I assure] your Grace that I think that you will find him [either]
a fast prince or else I will say that he is the most [untrue] man that
lies. And not he only but all the [noble]men of France, for I cannot
devise to have [any] speak better than they do, nor to your honour."
Then he tells Henry sporting news of the jousts for the coronation of
Francis and how they are to run and that the King himself is to be one
of the _aides_ of the Duke of Alençon.[376] To Wolsey he tells out
bluntly what has already been described of the clearing interview
between Mary and Francis, after which they understood each other, and
beseeches his good offices as all his trust is in him, and an answer
with all possible haste. In a postscript he again begs to hear from him
with all possible haste, and desires him to ask from the King a loan of
£2000, "and Sir Oliver shall bring to your hands plate sufficient there.
For, my lord, all my money is gone and the Queen and I both must make
friends, and they will not be gotten without money. And also I am fain
to buy new array, for the King will have us at his coronation, and as
far as I know to bring him in at his entry, the which shall not be a
little charge. My lord, I beseech you that this may be done in all haste
possible and delivered to Sir Oliver."[377] The next day Mary, who knew
her brother, drew up the following: "Be it known to all persons that I,
Mary Queen of France, sister unto the King of England Henry the VIIIth,
freely give unto the said King my brother such plate and vessel of clean
gold as the late King Loys of France the XIIth of that name gave unto me
the said Mary his wife; and also by these presents I do freely give unto
my said brother, King of England, the choice of such special jewels as
my said late husband King of France gave me; to the performation
whereof I bind me by this my bill whereto with mine own hand and signed
with my name and to the same have set my seal the ixth day of February,
the year of our lord fifteen hundred and fourteen. By your loving sister
Mary Queen of France."[378]

  [376] L. and P. H. VIII, ii. (i.) 133; Calig. D. vi. 161.

  [377] _Ibid._, ii. (i.) 134; Calig. D. vi. 163.

Mary had dismissed her French _dame de compagnie_, the Comtesse of
Nevers, and the French servants left with her by Francis when he went to
Rheims, and on the news of the arrival of Suffolk had recalled her
English ladies and servants. Francis is said to have been much annoyed,
and possibly his sister, the Duchess d'Alençon, told Suffolk how
impolitic a move this was, for on the return of the ambassadors from
paying their respects to Queen Claude and to her, they communed with
Mary of her household, and she showed herself conformable to the advice
of Suffolk and the rest.[379] At this interview things were put on a
good business footing, and the ambassadors were to write for copies of
the inventories of her wardrobe from Master Windsor, of her jewels from
Master Wyatt, one from the master of the horse for the stable and
another of the costs and charges of her traduction. But nothing could be
done till the King came to Paris. Francis made his entry on the 13th, so
that the English had scant time for their preparations; but Lent was
fast approaching (it began on the 21st) and haste was necessary if the
jousts and tourney were to be carried through in time. Mary was present
at the King's entrance, which Mercurin de Gattinare described to
Margaret of Austria as "belle et gorgiaise," and saw the Duke in the
procession with twenty horsemen in grey damask, talking to the Duchess
de Longueville, who rode in a habit of cloth of gold.

  [378] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. (i.) 237.

  [379] _Ibid._, ii. (i.) 139; Calig. D. vi. 209.

On Monday, the 12th, the day before the state entry, Suffolk was sent
for by the French King to watch him and five others running at the tilt
against the Duke of Lorraine and five with him, "for a banket, and I
insure your Grace there was good running."[380] Francis won, and after
the "banket" Suffolk had an interview with him, when the King showed
himself very heartily England's friend, and especially good towards
Suffolk and Wolsey: "as for the French King, I cannot wish him in better
mind towards the King's Grace than I hear him speak it ... and as for
you and me I trow that next the King our master we had never such a
friend which you shall perceive hereafter."[381] A few days before
Suffolk had received cheering letters from Wolsey in England, wherein he
was advertised what pain Wolsey took "daily for my cause and how good
lord you are to me, for the which and all the goodness that I find in
you I heartily thank you as he that shall never fail you during my
life." He felt his affairs were going on as well as possible in France,
for the King was ready to write to Henry in whatever form he thought
best. Suffolk's only uneasiness was the ominous silence of all his
friends at home, or else he imagined it was ominous, and he reproached
them in his letter to the King. "I beseech your Grace that I might hear
from your Grace some time, for it should be to my great comfort. Sir, I
beseech your Grace that I may be most humbly recommended unto the
[Queen's] Grace and to all mine old fellows, both men and women, and
tell them that I think it no little unkindness in them all that I never
heard from none of them since I departed from you, but I think the fault
has been in the weather (?) and not in them. Sir, I beseech your Grace
that I be not forgotten amongst you ar ..., for though my body be here
my heart is with you and you wot where."[382] He had great hopes of
returning very soon, for Francis said that once La Guiche, the French
agent to England, returned, a couple of days would easily settle all
English affairs.[383] The evening of the day after his entry Francis
went to see Mary, and it was arranged between them that he should write
to her brother at once, while the same post would take a letter from her
explaining her request for the help of Francis. Suffolk had had the
presence of mind at Compiègne not to betray Henry, and the French King
therefore did not realize that his news would come a day after the fair,
for he evidently thought at the beginning of the affair that he was to
be the _deus ex machina_. So he wrote that he had been to visit the
queen his _belle-mère_, as he used to do, to know if he could show her
any attention. On his asking her whether she contemplated a second
marriage, she confessed the great esteem she had for the Duke of
Suffolk, "que davant t[out] autre ele desyreroyt avecque[s] bonne
voulonte et lamye [...] maryage dele et de luy se fy," and prayed him
not only to give his own consent thereto, but to write to Henry in
Suffolk's favour which he now does.[384] Mary's letter also ignores her
confession before Suffolk's arrival--"Pleaseth it your Grace, the French
King on Tuesday night last [past] came to visit me, and [had] with me
many divers [discours]ing, among the which he demanded me whether I had
[ever] made any promise of marriage in any place, assuring me upon his
honour, upon the word of a prince, that in case I would be plain [with]
him in that affair that he would do for me therein to the best of his
power, whether it were in his realm or out of the same. Whereunto I
answered that I would disclose unto him the [secr]et of my heart in
hu[mility] as unto the prince of the world after your Grace in which I
had m[ost trust], and so decla[red unto him] the good mind [which] for
divers consi[derations I] bear to my lord of Suffolk, asking him not
only [to grant] me his favour and consent thereunto, but [also] that he
would of his [own] hand write unto your Grace and to pray you to bear
your like favour unto me, and to be content with the same. The which he
granted me to do, and so hath done, according as shall appear unto your
Grace by his said [letters]. And, Sir, I most humbly beseech you to take
this answer (?) which I have [made u]nto the French King in good part,
the which I [did] only to be discharg[ed of th]e extreme pain and
annoyance I was in [by reason] of such suit as [the French Ki]ng made
unt[o me not accord]ing with mine honour, [the whi]ch he hath clearly
left [off]. Also, Sir, I feared greatly [lest in] case that I had kept
the matter from his knowledge that he might have not well entreated my
said lord of Suffolk, and the rather [for] to have returned to his
[former] malfantasy and suits. Wherefore, Sir, [sin]ce it hath pleased
the said King to desire and pray you of your favour and consent, I most
humbly and heartily beseech you that it may like your Grace to bear your
favour and consent to the same and to advertise the said King by your
writing of your own hand your pleasure, [and] in that he hath a[cted
after] mine opinion [in his] letter of request, it shall be to your
great honour ... to content w[ith all] your Council and [with] all the
other no[bles of the] realm, and agree thereto for your Grace and for
all the world. And therefore I eftsoon require you for all the love that
it liked your Grace to bear to me, that you do not refuse but grant me
your favour and consent in form (?) before rehearsed, the which if you
shall deny me I am well assured to [lead] as desolate a life as ever had
creature, the which I know well shall be mine end. Always praying your
Grace to have compassion on me, my most loving sovereign lord and
brother, whereunto I have entreated you, beseeching God always to
preserve your royal estate." The postscript is: "I most humbly beseech
your Grace to consider in case you make difficulty to condescend to the
promise [as I] wish, the French King will take courage to renew his
suits unto me, assuring you that I had rather to be out of the world
than it should so happen, and how he shall entreat my lord of Suffolk
God knoweth, with many other inconvenience which might ensue of the
same, the which I pray our Lord that [I] may never have life to see.

    By your loving sister and true servant,
     MARY, Queen of France."[385]

  [380] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. (i.) 146; Calig. D. vi. 185.

  [381] _Ibid._, ii. (i.) 145; Calig. D. vi. 186.

  [382] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. (i.) 146; Calig. D. vi. 185.

  [383] _Ibid._, ii. (i.) 157; Calig. D. vi. 212.

  [384] _Ibid._, ii. (i.) 135; Calig. D. vi. 256.

  [385] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. (i.) 163; Calig. D. vi. 244.

The postscript is an echo of Suffolk's letter of the same date, where he
says, in case Henry does not give consent at Francis' request, that he
will "be at his liberty and again at his former suits, the which your
sister, the Queen, had rather be out of the world, to abide, and as for
me your Grace ... I had rather be out of the world to see her in this
case."[386] Suffolk had found that the King's mother, Louise de Savoie,
was also on his side, and she promised him to forward his matter, and
also told him he could put all confidence in her son's promises, which
the Duke evidently did. Louise charmed Suffolk, "She is the best spoken
princess I have ever seen and has great influence"; "it is she that
rules all, and so may she well, for I never saw woman like her."[387]
All things seemed going smoothly, and it must have been at this date, or
just before these letters, that the first marriage took place, the most
secret one, which was hidden from Francis as his attentions were
probably its cause. About a week after these letters, that is, about
February 21st or 22nd, Suffolk received an answer from Wolsey to the
letter he had sent on the way from Senlis to Paris telling of his first
private interview with Francis, which raised his spirits even higher,
for a near open marriage seemed in prospect.

"My lord," wrote the Archbishop, "in my most hearty manner I recommend
me unto your good lordship and have received your letter, written with
your own hands, dated at Paris the 3rd day of this month, and as joyous
I am as any creature living to hear as well of your honourable
entertainment with the French King and of his loving mind towards you
for your marriage with the French Queen, our master's sister, as also of
his kind offer made to you, that both he and the said French Queen shall
effectually write unto the King's Grace, for the obtaining of his good
will and favour unto the same. The contents of which your letter I have
at good leisure declared unto the King's Highness and his Grace
marvellously rejoiced to hear of your good speed in the same, and how
substantially and discreetly ye ordered and handled yourself in your
words and communication with the French King when he first secretly
brake with you of the said marriage. And therefore, my lord, the King
and I think it good that you procure and solicit the speedy sending unto
his Grace of the letters from the French King touching this matter,
assuring you that the King continueth firmly in his good mind and
purpose towards you for the accomplishment of the said marriage, albeit
that there be daily on every side practices made to let the same which I
have withstanded hitherto, and doubt not to do so till you have achieved
your intended purpose, and ye shall say by that time that ye know all
that ye have had of me a fast friend.

  [386] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. (i.) 134*; Calig. D. vi. 159.

  [387] _Ibid._, ii. (i.) 82; Calig. D. vi. 165. B.M.

"The King's Grace sends unto you at this time not only his especial
letters of thanks unto the French King for the loving and kind
entertainment of you and the other ambassadors with you, and for his
favourable audience given unto you and them, but also other letters of
thanks to the Queen his wife, and to other personages specified in your
letter, jointly sent with the other ambassadors to the King's Grace. And
his highness is of no less mind and affection than the French King is
for the continuance of good peace and amity betwixt them....

"The lady of Suffolk is departed out of this present life and over this,
my lord, the King's Grace hath given unto you all such lands as be come
into his hand by the decease of the said lady of Suffolk, and also by my
pursuit hath given unto you the lordship of Claxton, which his highness
had of my Lord Admiral for 1000 marks which he did owe his Grace.

"Finally, my lord, whereas ye desired at your departing to have an
harness made for you, the King's Grace hath willed me to write unto you,
that he saith it is impossible to make a perfect head-piece for you,
unless that the manner of your making your sight were assuredly

"And whereas ye write that the French King is of no less good will
towards me than his predecessor was, I pray you to thank his Grace for
the same and to offer him my poor service, which next my master shall
have mine heart for the good will and mind which he beareth to you,
beseeching you to have my affairs recommended that I may have some end
in the same one way or other...."[388]

  [388] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. (i.) 113.

The letter contained both good and bad news, at least Mary seems to have
thought so, for while Suffolk no doubt was confident that Wolsey would
over-ride all the practices of the Howard family to hinder the marriage,
and took the grant of the lands of the Lady Margaret de la Pole,
Countess of Suffolk, as earnest of the continued favour of his master
and his desire for his advancement, Mary's brain only took in the phrase
"there be daily on every side practices made to the let of the same,"
and connected this with the silence of her husband's friends at Court.
She had already insisted on marriage within four days or not at all, and
Suffolk had yielded to her reasoning--my brother is content, more than
content, and the King of France desires our marriage, why should we wait
and run the risk of some chance which might separate us--reluctantly,
however, because of his promise to Henry. From the secret nature of the
marriage it is impossible to fix the date save by inference. There are
two dates given in two different documents, one the 3rd of March, given
in a French chronicle in the Fontanieu Portefeuille, and quoted by Mrs
Green, the other the 31st of the same month, given by Louise de Savoie
in her diary. It is possible, too, that 3rd is a mistake for 31st, but
that is as may be, and the point to emphasize is this, that these dates
do not refer to the secret marriage confessed to by Suffolk on March 5,
but to some other and semi-public affair which took place at a later
date before the Court of France in Lent. No one was privy to this first
marriage save servants, and it must have taken place about the second
week of February, for, writing on March 5 to Wolsey, Suffolk says he
fears Mary is with child, and he urges the necessity for an open
marriage before the French Court, adding that the season need be no bar,
for marriages take place in Lent with consent of a bishop.[389] This
open marriage was to be later the sum of their desires, for the secret
one was illegal and could easily be quashed, and the child of it, the
heir to the English crown, would be born out of wedlock, but in the
early days of February Mary was ready to _mettre le tout par le tout_,
to do anything to gain her end of marriage with Suffolk. The place of
the February marriage would probably be the chapel of the Clugny Hotel,
but that and who actually married them is unknown. A later document says
a simple priest of no authority, which is not unlikely, though that
document, to be quoted in full later, does not pretend to strict
accuracy, for its facts were arranged by Suffolk and Wolsey to produce a
certain impression. So Wolsey's letter found Mary married to her lover,
in ill-health, nervous and suspicious (her head was never still and she
was constantly turning it from side to side), sucking terror out of
every phrase, and sensible that delay in the return home, or, failing
that, in a near open marriage, might publicly pierce the secret of her
union with Brandon. Her husband's mind was tranquil as yet, and to him
the Archbishop's letters "came as graciously as rosewater and vinegar to
him that is fallen in a sowne or a litargie."

  [389] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. (i.) 222; Calig. D. vi. 176.



The commission of the Duke of Suffolk, Sir Richard Wingfield, and Dr
West was for the renewing of the peace with France which had been
concluded with Louis XII. for the lives of the two Kings and one year
after, and for the settling of the Dowager-Queen's affairs and the
conveying of her out of the realm. "They were to demand restitution as
well of such jewels, precious stones, plate, apparel and other things
that her Grace brought with her, as also of the charge of her
traduction, which the French King received for the value of 200,000
crowns." They would also have to take possession of the lands of the
Queen's dowry. Francis would have made the renewing of the amity depend
on the giving up of Tournay if he had dared, and, as it was, he was very
friendly with the ambassadors of Flanders, the Lord Nassau and the Count
de St Py, who were come to Paris to ask for the long-desired marriage
with a daughter of France. Margaret de Savoie with the English alliance
had gone by the wall, and she said, almost weeping, to Spinelly, "that
God knoweth the faithful mind she had borne to England and what had
ensued unto her thereof, and how the Emperor without her knowledge had
handled the putting out of tutela of the Prince to the great prejudice
of her honor."[390] She was compelled to let Chièvres have his way, and
that way was the French marriage; though Maximilian was eager now to
have Mary for his grandson, and sent Henry grave warning of the
difficulty of getting princesses returned out of France, and said that
it might come to retrieving her at the sword's point.[391] But Flanders
wanted no English princess, and put all their hope in alliance with
France, and if a piece of wood had come out of France it would have been
received for an ambassador.[392] There was still an English party at
Brussels, and Margaret, speaking of Mary's possible marriages, said
"that she knew no prince in Christendom that would gladly have her
except one, which, were it not for his Council, peradventure would
condescend thereto," which, adds Spinelly, "I suppose would be the
Prince."[393] Francis, though he sent the Prince of Castile a cool
letter on his accession, saw in the Flemish alliance a way towards
realizing his desire to drive the English back to Calais, for between
two allied hostile countries their position on the Flemish border would
be easily made untenable. M. de la Guiche had been sent to England to
announce his accession, and until his return nothing definite could be
concluded, but Francis' great point in his negotiations with Suffolk was
the recovery of Tournay. The Duke declined at first to meddle with this,
for it was not in his commission, but by the advice of Wingfield and
West he told the King of the matter privately. Louise de Savoie, who did
everything and looked younger than she had done for years,[394] also
spoke to Suffolk of the "great desire the King her son had to recover
the city of Tournay." Suffolk was not well pleased at this complication
in his amicable proceedings at the French Court, and would gladly have
had nothing to do with it. But Spinelly at Brussels had got hold of a
French letter to Chièvres containing details of a definite
Franco-Flemish alliance, and this Wolsey sent on to Suffolk in Paris,
asking him to demand an explanation, and, unwilling as the Duke was to
court unpleasant relations at this moment, speak of it he must. So he
dissembled and showed it to Francis as having been sent direct to him
out of Flanders.[395] The King had just tilted successfully and was in
great good humour when given the letter. He denied the treaty, but said
that he could hardly refuse to receive the Flemish ambassadors, though
he would conclude nothing with them till he had concluded with Henry.
They had merely made fair promises for the future and excuses for the
past, and he had given them very little comfort.[396] And, besides,
matters between Henry and himself were in such an amicable way that a
couple of days would easily dispatch them. So he talked to Suffolk, who
seems to have been lulled by flattery, for Francis also said that in all
matters between him and Henry he would make Suffolk judge. The position
was tangled enough: on the one hand was the Duke, bound by a promise
which he had already secretly broken, and commissioned to get the
uttermost farthing out of the French King, on whose help he was supposed
to be relying; on the other was Francis, who, while ostensibly helping
Suffolk in his ambitions (already secretly consummated without his help)
out of mere good nature, was really going to use him as a tool he had
bargained for and bought. He was in ignorance that his offer of help
had been made known to Henry, and also, whatever he may have suspected,
he was not sure of how much royal backing there was behind the Duke. He
was sure, however, that his help was worth something to Suffolk, and,
like the young Queen, he meant to have the price when and how he desired
it. But Suffolk felt himself a match for any Frenchman, the subtlety of
the nation having long been the despair of English diplomatists

  [390] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. (i.) 124; Galba B. iii. 284.

  [391] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. (i.) 124; Galba B. iii. 284.

  [392] _Ibid._

  [393] _Ibid._, ii. (i.) 70; Galba B. iii. 278.

  [394] Le Glay, "Negoc. entre la France et l'Autriche," ii. 41.

  [395] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. (i.) 157; Calig. D. vi. 212.

  [396] _Ibid._

Every day now Francis called on Suffolk to know what was doing in the
matter of Tournay,[397] and the ambassadors were troubled, for they knew
how Henry clung to his conquest and the pains and expense he was at to
keep it. So did Francis, and he offered a good sum for its honourable
restitution, and urged Suffolk to devise some means for this. Again and
again the King said he desired nothing but peace with the King of
England, and on Suffolk's reminding him significantly that he also
wanted Tournay, he said yes, for it had anciently appertained to France.
The ambassadors said, it would be best for him first to renew the last
amity and the obligation for the payment of the money still owing to
England, and in the meantime they would write for instructions. "My
lords," they wrote to the Council, "we took this way because we thought
it not honourable for the King our master to restore Tournay by any
article comprised in the treaty of peace; for under whatsoever condition
it was restored, the bruit should be made in France that the King our
master was fain to deliver Tournay to have peace." Then they suggested
that if the restoration were contemplated, it should be done secretly
and first published at the meeting of the two Kings now under
discussion.[398] Francis was not to be put off by the cautious bearing
of the English. He left nothing unsaid that might bring him the town.
Wolsey was particularly interested in the question. For over a year now
he had been trying to get himself recognized as its bishop _de facto_
without success, in spite of Louis XI.'s honest help. Now Suffolk told
Francis that the Archbishop was the only man who "might do most pleasure
for him for the obtaining of his mind in the premises," and he would do
well to write to him. The French Council offered to secure the bishopric
to Wolsey if the town were surrendered, and Francis said that he might
"not only have that, but the best in France, if he would take it,"[399]
and he promised to Suffolk, "on his faith in my hand," that he would
make the French bishop-elect give it up to the Archbishop in all haste,
and declared he would not stick with Wolsey for ten of the best
bishoprics in France. But Wolsey knew, as he said, that _probatio amoris
est exhibitio operis_, and from Ghent came news of French perfidy, for
Wolsey's agent, Sampson, wrote that Francis had written in favour of the
French bishop-elect, and there was nothing to be done on the spot, for
he was in power, and the Lady Margaret, well-disposed as she was, could
do nothing.[400]

  [397] L. and P. H. VIII, ii. (i.) 175; Calig. D. vi. 214.

  [398] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. (i.) 175; Calig. D. vi. 214.

  [399] _Ibid._, ii. (i.) 176; Calig. D. vi. 216.

  [400] _Ibid._, ii. (i.) 197; Galba B. v. 384.

The condition of affairs at Tournay itself was pithily summed up by the
new Lieutenant, Lord Mountjoy. "The city cannot be kept without ready
money. There are many strangers, much weapon, many cankered stomachs,
some stark traitors within it: the soldiers rude and not to be trusted,
poor and cannot put up with slack payment."[401] In fact, the garrison
was in open mutiny, and the country round about was none too friendly,
and had to be scoured and kept clear of thieves. The arrival of the new
Lieutenant was a signal for an outbreak, for the soldiers' pay was in
arrears and they were asked to serve another month before they got their
wages. The most mutinous were threatened with dismissal, but they got
hold of the keys of the gates and said no gates should be opened till
the men were paid in full. If pay was not forthcoming they would spoil
the town and then depart and leave it. They shouted "money, money,
money," and when they were paid ungratefully threatened to hang their
marshal; "down with Sir Sampson!" "To satisfy them the Lieutenant
suffered a trumpeter to blow to cause him to avoid the town."[402] No
doubt French treason was seen in this scene characteristic of all
garrisons of that age, where the only discipline was the gibbet and the
purse; and because of these difficulties the place became dearer than
ever to Henry. It was a useless expense, it gave a rallying-point for
Burgundians and French, but still Henry had taken it and he meant to
show that he could keep it. Wolsey knew Henry's feelings if any did, and
to pass the time he advised Suffolk to inquire as though from himself
what lands would be given in exchange for it.[403] Little but the
Tournay question was talked of at the French Court, and Suffolk, though
he said he would find it hard to get any land at the French King's
hand,[404] did as he was told. So he spoke privately with M. de Boissi,
who, after Louise de Savoie, had the King's ear. De Boissi said that
"the King his master was marvellous desirous to recover it, and that he
would think it a marvellous kindness in the King, my master, if he would
be content to let him have it for so reasonable a sum to be paid in
years." Suffolk remarked that in his own opinion the county of Guisnes
might be taken in exchange. On this Boissi asked him to dinner next day,
and in the interval communed with the King and his mother, who were both
willing to treat on those terms. "Nevertheless the King knew well," said
Boissi, "that there should be a [great] clamor on the side of the King
for the delivery [of the] subjects of the said country: for he said they
were the best Frenchmen in France. Whereunto [I] replied that the King,
my master, should have no less clamor for the delivery of the city of
Tournay and Tornassen, and so [I begged] him to advertise you to the
intent that you [might] break with the King in it."[405] Suffolk was
very pleased with the way the negotiation was going, and desired Wolsey
to get him a formal commission to treat, and in his inimitable spelling
proceeds, "I dowth not bout yt yow and I schall [do] the Kyng howar
mastar byttar sarwyes [than] anne man lywyng in thys mattar and hall
[hi]s oddar afyrres in these parttes."[406] He would like to have such a
commission to show Francis what trust his master had in him, so that the
French King shall be "more gladder to be good to me in all [other]
affairs." Poor Suffolk! he never got very far away from his obsession.

  [401] and P. H. VIII., ii. (i.) 175; Calig. D. vi. 214.]

  [402] Ibid., ii. (i.) 176; Calig. D. vi. 216.]

  [403] Ibid., ii. (i.) 197; Galba B. v. 384.]

  [404] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. (i.) 192; Calig. D. vi. 171.

  [405] _Ibid._, ii. (i.) 231; Calig. D. vi. 176.

  [406] _Ibid._

By the end of February the embassy had to report that the Flemish
negotiations were proceeding merrily with the French Court, but by the
middle of March Peter de la Guiche and John de Selva were again sent to
England to sign the treaty for peace and intercourse, and also to renew
the league of London, and arrange for the payments promised by Louis

During these two months the Norfolk party in the English Council, that
of the "old" nobles (who as well as Suffolk's adherents had drawn French
pensions), had tried consistently to prevent the renewal of the French
treaty. They desired a return to the traditional policy of amity with
the enemies of France, and an edge was given to their opposition by the
marriage project which they knew was in the air. There were hindrances
on all sides, and it was openly said that Suffolk was no match for the
lady, still direct heir to the throne, who might have fulfilled the
destiny of a princess, and been a useful bond in some friendship abroad.
They made great capital out of Spinelly's news from the Low Countries of
Chièvres' difficulties with France, of Margaret's desire for the English
marriage, and of the report that the Prince's fancy was for Mary and
England. With Flanders lay English trade interests, and Maximilian, in
spite of his having sold his tutelage for 100,000 crowns, was said to be
eager for the marriage; in fact, would marry her himself, rather than
let her remain in French hands. Then came rumours about a marriage with
Suffolk, and the Flemish gossip galled the King, and was rubbed in, no
doubt, by his Council, and did Suffolk no good with either party. The
Lady Margaret, report said, could not believe it, and said it was false
gossip to the Queen's dishonour. Henry was said to have asked Francis
"to be pleased" with the marriage, and Francis withheld his consent, and
the Court at Ghent were laying wagers about it.[407] Suffolk's friends
in the Court knew not what to do; his star for the moment seemed waning,
and they prudently held little communication with him. The restitution
of Tournay was desired by many in the Council, but when the news of the
secret marriage reached England, authenticated by the Duke's own hand,
at once suspicion gave tongue that Suffolk had played the King false,
and pledged himself to the restitution of the city in return for support
in his marriage venture.[408] It is just probable that this was tacitly
so, for though Suffolk had seemed so open about the Tournay business,
and had told Henry that Francis had asked him to be the arbiter in the
matter, and that he had consented because he thought it more to the
King's honour and profit to be judged by his own subject, yet it would
be ridiculous to suppose that he was uninfluenced by his personal
feelings and by his difficult situation. Suffolk wrote that the matter
had "never passed my mouth but once to your Grace. There be but few of
your Council but has been in hand with me and [think] it best that you
should depart with it, so you might depart with it honourably. Yet, Sir,
I insure your Grace that I have not put the French King in none hope of
it; insomuch [that I have] caused him to leave it out of his
instructions given to his ambassadors to the inte[nt that] he should not
do _manner_ anything that should not be to your contentation, but to
refer it [to your] pleasure."[409] Suffolk probably thought he was
honestly serving his King, but self-advancement had become his habit of
mind, and while up to this moment he had advanced evenly by the simple
means of Henry's friendship, now at the meeting place of cross currents
he knew not how to steer, and thought he was safely hugging the bank
while the current was carrying him into danger. It was impossible in
this complex situation that it should be otherwise, for he can never be
considered other than a man of mediocre intelligence of men and things.
His charm of person and manner, his good-natured appreciation of others,
his lack of affectation, these were his greatest virtues, the virtues of
a good digestion, and none are of great value in diplomacy without a
penetrating and directing intelligence.

  [407] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. (i.) 199.

  [408] _Ibid._, ii. (i.) 225; Calig. D. vi. 184.

No doubt it was Norfolk who helped to straighten Henry's face over the
question of the dowry, and suggested his demand for "both the stuff and
the money," which drew a remonstrance from the ambassadors to Wolsey:
"we received from the King's Grace and from your good lordsh[ip] other
writings concerning the Queen's dot. A[nd] as in the King's letters it
is mentioned that w[e should] make composition for the Queen's
traduction s[o as] we take no less sum than is contained in y[our
letter], we think that no composition but an extremity. Moreover, seeing
that she shall have all her stuff r[eturned?], we think it not
reasonable to demand such [sums] as have been laid out by the King's
officers f[or] provision of the same, for she may not have both [the]
money and the stuff. And sithens it is likely that [we] shall commune
with reasonable men, we would be r[ather] loth to demand anything out of
reason. Wher[efore] we heartily pray you to know the King's pleasure and
further mind in this matter, and by the next post we shall certify you
of everything more at large."[410] Wolsey said, however, that the
question of gold plate and jewels was the measure of Henry's interest in
the affair, and one feels bound to accept the strange spectacle of the
King loving and trusting his subject and sister, but unable to resist
the chance of making money out of their distressful circumstances. Henry
VII. had been called avaricious and he was, not from any Silas
Marner-like quality, but to bottom firmly his family and the state. His
son had inherited the habit without the occasion, and joined to it the
pleasure-loving, self-indulgent nature of his maternal grandfather, and
the result was a having temperament and a hollow hand. Now, however,
before more could be written on the vexed question of the dot, the
fabric of Suffolk's politic handling was dashed to the ground, and he
himself was in grave danger.

  [409] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. (i.) 80; Calig. D. vi. 179.

  [410] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. (i.) 204; Calig. D. v. 217.

As we have seen, Suffolk had consented to Mary's tearful importunities
and married her secretly, and as the first few weeks passed he had been
emboldened in his disobedience by letters from Wolsey containing news of
Henry's friendly steadfastness in the matter of the marriage, and by the
favour of Francis and of his mother, who craftily pushed the affair to
prevent a _rapprochement_ between Flanders and England. These good news
he weighed against the advice he had of the many hindrances set about
the marriage by the Council and Court in England, and took good heart
and cloaked his fault under expressions of devotion. He wrote to the
King that he prays he may live no longer should he do "that shall be
otherwise to your honour,"[411] and thanked Wolsey in another letter for
his friendship, which he says he shall never forget "to me dyyng
day."[412] It must have been about a week after the writing of these
letters, on February 26, that Suffolk first began to realize that his
position was not so secure as in his less jovial moments he had
imagined. Henry had, on February 12, written from Greenwich to Francis
thanking him for his kind treatment of his sister, but nothing
further.[413] On the 14th Francis wrote to England at Mary's dictation,
and the lovers were expecting the answer with confidence. It came
through Wolsey, probably in the first days of March. The King, said
Wolsey, was, by the advice of his Council, writing to Suffolk and the
other ambassadors plain answers of his mind and pleasure upon those
things contained in their letters, dated Paris, February 18, and
therefore he would make no mention of the same. But the King had last
Sunday, after he had communed with his Council and determined the making
of the said answers, called Wolsey apart and willed him to write to
Suffolk and show him, as he knew right well, that the King would have
the French King's plate of gold and jewels for his benevolent mind to
the Queen and him for the accomplishment of their desires. He charged
Suffolk to "substantially stick" to this business, and said that though
he would gladly give him permission to return home with the Queen, he
cannot do this till "ye have perfected and established" the question of
the dot. "Wherefore, my lord, I require and advise you, inasmuch as the
King's Grace hath great mind to the King's plate of gold and jewels,
substantially to handle that matter and to stick thereunto, for I assure
you the hope that the King hath to obtain the said plate and jewels is
the thing that most stayeth his Grace constantly to assent that ye
should marry his sister, the lack whereof I fear me might make him cold
and remiss and cause some alteration, whereof all men here except his
Grace and myself would be right glad. Howbeit I shall for my part always
put to my hand both in word and deed to bring your desire to good effect
to the uttermost of my mind and powers. And because the thing toucheth
so greatly the [accomplishing] of your intended pleasure, me thinketh I
can no less do than to advertise you of the same. Trusting that you will
endeavour yourself for the satisfaction of the King's mind in this
behalf, whereof I shall be as joyous as any man living. And I send unto
you herein closed the copy of the letter the King has written at this
time with his own hand to the French King, and by no manner persuasion
or means I could induce his Grace to write other wise therein for this
reason, for his Grace thinketh that if he should make plain answer at
the first instance of the French King, he would think that his Grace
was agreed to the said marriage afore your coming hither and [acquaint
thereto], and that the French King might think that ye had not been
plain with him. Further more as touching the French King's desire for
the meeting and interview between the King's Grace and him, ye may show
unto him that the King's Highness is of semblable affection and desirous
to have the same come shortly to pass."[414] The letter is sharper in
tone than the former ones and goes plainly and roundly to the matter. It
suggests that Suffolk had made little progress in his initial
commission, though he had already written that the Queen was to be
liberally treated, and, in fact, had Doctor West instead of the Duke of
Suffolk been the correspondent, Wolsey probably would have told him "not
to muse so much on the moon but go straightly and wisely to the matter,"
and "not to be moved by every wind and frivolous report." But apart from
this slight asperity of the one-eyed to the blind, the letter is hardly
one to have moved Suffolk to confession. The Duke had not wit enough to
carry through a plot; he was a plain man, and, like such, lived from day
to day with no clear course before him, and could not bend circumstance
to his plans. "Every wind and frivolous report" were wrought into the
fabric of his days without selection, for he had never cultivated the
mental clearness of conception and vision which gives poise to projected
plans and desires. His political life had always been covered by
Wolsey's shadow, and when, about the beginning of March, Mary told him
she feared she was with child, Suffolk could think of nothing better to
do than to write to the Archbishop and confess all, and in the face of
the difficulties of Wolsey's last letter it was the best course. "My
lord of York, I re[commend] me unto you, and so it [is that I know] well
that you have been the chief man [before al]l that has been the helper
of me to that I am [now] next God and my master, and therefore I will
never hide none thing from you, trusting that you will help me now as
you have always done. My lord, so it is that when I came to Paris, I
heard many things which put me in great fear, and so did the Queen both.
And the Queen would never let me be in rest till I had granted her to be
married. And so, to be plain with you, I have married her heartily" and
have lyen with her, in so much that I fear me lest she be with child. My
lord, I am not in a little sorrow lest the King should know it, and that
his Grace should be displeased with me, for I assure you that I had
rather have died than he should be miscontent. And therefore, my own
good lord, since you have brought me hitherto let me not be undone now,
the which I fear me I shall be, without the special help of you. My
lord, think not that ever you shall make any that shall be more
[forwa]rd to you, and therefore, mine own good lord, give me help. My
lord, as methinks th[ere is no] remedy in this matter but that I m[ay
obtain] another letter from the French K[ing, and a let]ter from the
French Queen, and a [letter from the King's] mother to the King my
[sovereign lord], desiring his Grace that the ... her by them, the which
should be m[ade known] to all France, and that his Grace should thereby
perceive that they would be glad to see it [done] most honourably that
could be, and m[ight now] specially because all the noblemen of France
be here. My lord, I doubt not b[ut that] they will write this for me or
how ye shall think best they should write.... For I beseech you to
instruct me in all haste possible. My lord, they marry as well in Lent
as out of Lent with licence of any bishop. Now, my lord, you know all,
and in you is all my trust, beseeching you of your assured help, and
that I may have answer from you of this or all my other writings as
shortly as it may be possible, for I ensure you I have as heavy a heart
as any man living, and shall have till I may hear good tidings from
you." In a much mutilated postscript he says he had written to the King
saying nothing to him of this matter, for "I would not for all the good
in the world he should know of it but as you shall think best."[415] The
same evening he wrote again to Wolsey with a certain reserve, for his
cousin, Sir Richard Wingfield, addressed the letter: "My lord, for to
induce the Queen's matter and mine unto the King's grace, I think best
for your first entry you should deliver unto him a diamond with a great
pearl, which you shall receive with this from the Queen, his sister, and
require him to take it _worth_, assuring his Grace that whensoever she
shall have the possession of the residue, that he shall have the choice
of them according unto her former writing. My lord, she and I remit this
matter wholly to your discretion, trusting that in all haste possible we
shall hear from you some good tidings touching our affairs, wherewith I
require you to despatch this bearer and that he tarry for no other
cause."[416] Next day Mary wrote to her brother a non-committal little
letter: "My most kind and loving brother, I humbly commend me unto your
Grace, thanking you entirely of your comfortable letters, beseeching
your Grace most humbly now so to continue toward me and my friends, as
our special trust is in your Grace, and that it may like you with all
convenient diligence to send for me that I may shortly see your Grace,
which is the thing that I most desire in the world, and I and all mine
is at your Grace's commandment and pleasure.

    By your loving sister, MARY."[417]

  [411] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. (i.) 191; Calig. D. vi. 178.

  [412] _Ibid._, ii. (i.) 192; Calig. D. vi. 171.

  [413] _Ibid._, ii. (i.) 17.

  [414] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. (i.) 203.

  [415] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. (i.) 222; Calig. D. vi. 176.

  [416] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. (i.) 223. R.O.

  [417] _Ibid._, ii. (i.) 230; Vesp. F. iii. 176.

Now came a fortnight's painful waiting "in this town of Paris," which
Suffolk said irritably "is like a stinking prison,"[418] and finding
inaction under suspense unbearable, the Duke set his plan in action for
the publishing of the marriage to all France without waiting for
Wolsey's reply. First he told Francis. Robert de la Marck, a
contemporary chronicler, gives an account of his interview with Francis.
The King sent for the Duke of Suffolk, and thus addressed him: "I am
advertised of this thing: I did not think you had been so base, and if I
chose to do my duty I should this very hour take your head from off your
shoulders, for you have failed of your faith, and trusting to your faith
I have not had watch kept over you. You have secretly, without my
knowledge, married Queen Mary. "Whereunto the said Duke of Suffolk,
being much afraid and in great terror, answered and said, "Sir, may it
please you to pardon me. I confess I have done ill, but, Sir, I implore
you to consider the love which made me so do. I throw myself entirely on
your compassion, praying you to have mercy upon me." Whereon the King
told him that he would not have mercy on him, but would keep him fast
till he should have advertised the King of England thereof; and if it
pleased him then he too would be content."[419] On March 12 Louise de
Savoie wrote to Henry, asking him to allow the Duke of Suffolk's
marriage to take effect and assuring him of Suffolk's devotion to his
service,[420] and Francis may have also written, though the only letter
to be found belongs to the beginning of April [dated March in the
Calendar of State Papers]. If he did not at this moment, it is probably
to be accounted for by the fact that within a few days he discovered
that the jewel which the crown most prized, the Mirror of Naples, had
been sent to England. Queen Claude asked for it as belonging of right to
the queens of France, and it was not forthcoming.[421] Francis was
furious, and Suffolk had to write to Wolsey in all haste for its
immediate return, "for it is the same that is said should never go from
the queens of France."[422] He took occasion again to urge an open
marriage in France, "my lord at the reverence of God help that I be
married as I go out of France openly for many things which I will avert
you in my next letters,"[423] and asks his advice whether the King and
the King's mother should write again "for this open marriage, seeing
that this privy marriage is done and that I think none other wise than
that she is with child."[424] If Francis was sulking both about the way
he had been deceived in the secret marriage and about the loss of the
jewel, then no wonder Paris was as a stinking prison to Suffolk.

  [418] _Ibid._, ii. (ii.), App. 6*; Calig. D. vi. 183.

  [419] Chron. L. xii.; Du Puy MS., Paris, quoted by Mrs Green in
  "Lives of the Princesses of England," v. 90 note.

  [420] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. (i.) 240; Calig. D. xi. 86.

  [421] _Ibid._, ii. (ii.) App. 7.

  [422] _Ibid._

  [423] _Ibid._

  [424] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. (ii.) App. 7.


No doubt the Duke expected a reprimand, and a sharp one, and the
question, whether Wolsey would tell the King or conceal the first and
suggest a second marriage, must have been often discussed with Mary, but
when the reply to his letter of March 5 was received, he suddenly saw
plainly that he had mistaken both Henry and Wolsey, and he felt that not
only his world was tottering about his ears, but his very life was for
the moment in danger. "My lord," wrote Wolsey, "with sorrowful heart I
write unto you signifying unto the same that I have to my no little
discomfort and inward heaviness perceived by your letters, dated at
Paris the 5th day of this instant month, how that you be secretly
married unto the King's sister and has accompanied together as man and
wife. And albeit you by your said letters desired me in no wise to
disclose the same to the King's Grace, yet seeing the same toucheth not
only his honour, your promise made to his Grace, and also my truth
towards the same, I could no less do, but incontinent upon the sight of
your said letters declare and shew the contents therof to his Highness,
which at the first hearing could scantly believe the same to be true.
But after that I had showed to his Grace, that by your own writing I
had knowledge thereof, his Grace giving credence thereunto took the same
grievously and displeasantly, not only for that you durst presume to
marry his sister without his knowledge, but also for the breaking of
your promise made to his Grace in his hand, I being present at Eltham.
Having also such assured affiance in your truth that for all the world,
and to have been torn with wild horses, you would not have broken your
oath, promise and assurance made to his Grace. Which he doth well
perceive that he is deceived of the constant and assured trust that he
thought to have found in you. And for my part no man can be more sorry
than I am that you have so done. And so his Grace would that I should
expressly write unto you, being so incholered therewith that I cannot
devise nor study for the remedy thereof considering that you have failed
to him which hath brought you up of low degree to be of this great
honour, and that you were the man in all the world he loved and trusted
best, and was content that with good order and saving his honour you
should have in marriage his said sister. Cursed be the blind affection
and counsel that hath brought ye hereunto, fearing that such sudden and
unavised dealing shall have sudden repentance!

"Nevertheless, in this great perplexity I see no other remedy but first
to move your humble pursuits by your own writing, causing also the
French King and the Queen and other your friends to write, with this
also that shall follow--which I assure you I write unto you of my own
head without knowledge of any person living, being in great doubt
whether the same shall make your peace or no--notwithstanding if _any_
remedy be it shall be by that way. It shall be well done that with
all diligence possible you and the Queen bind yourselves by obligation
to pay yearly to the King during the Queen's life £4000 of her dower,
and so you and she shall have remaining of the said dower £6000 and
above to live withal yearly. Over and besides this you must bind
yourselves to give unto the King the plate of gold and jewels which the
late French King had. And whereas the Queen shall have full restitution
of her dot, you shall not only give entirely the said dot to the King,
but also cause the French King to be bound to pay to the King the
200,000 crowns which his Grace is bound to pay to the Queen, in full
contentation of the said dot, _de novissimis denariis_, and the said
French King to acquit the King for the payment thereof, like as the King
hath more at large declared his pleasure to you by his letters sent unto
you. This is the way to make your peace, whereat if you deeply consider
what danger you be and shall be in, having the King's displeasure, I
doubt not both the Queen and you will not stick, but with all effectual
diligence endeavour yourselves to recover the King's favour as well by
this means as by other substantial true ways which by mine advice you
shall use and none other towards his Grace, whom by colorable drifts and
ways you cannot abuse. Now I have told you mine opinion hardily. Follow
the same and trust not too much to your own wit, nor follow not the
counsel of them that hath not more deeply considered the dangers of this
matter than they have hitherto done.

"And as touching the overtures made by the French King for Tournay, and
also for a new confederation with the King and him like as I have
lately written unto you, I would not advise you to wade any further in
these matters, for it be thought that the French King intendeth to make
his hand by favouring you in the attaining to the said marriage. Which
when he shall perceive that by your means he cannot get such things as
he desireth, peradventure he shall show some change and alteration in
the Queen's affairs whereof great inconvenience might ensue. Look wisely
therefore upon the same, and consider you have enough to do in
redressing your own causes, and think it shall be hard to induce the
King to give you a commission of trust which hath so lightly regarded
the same towards his Grace.

"Thus I have as a friend declared my mind unto you, and never trust to
use me nor have me in anything contrary to truth, my master's honours,
profits, wealth and surety, to the advancement and furtherance whereof
no creature living is more bounden, as our Lord knoweth who send your
Grace to look well and deeply upon your acts and doings, for you put
yourself in the greatest danger that ever man was."[425]

  [425] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. (i.) 224.

It was a masterly letter and put Suffolk out of conceit with his own
wits and Mary with her counsel, and joined them in one desire to make
plain the utter intolerableness of their situation to Henry. Wolsey
warned them to be truthful and frank, for one part of the secret of his
influence with the King's suspicious nature was his own love for plain
dealing. So they wrote. Mary--bringing in the incident of the Friars'
report to her as though it had recently happened, though from earlier
letters of Suffolk's they were in hand with her before the arrival of
the embassy--took all the blame on her shoulders and was ready to face
the consequences. The best of her shows in admirable light in the
following letter:--"Please it your Grace, to the greatest discomfort,
sorrow and disconsolation but lately I have been advertised of the great
and high displeasure which your highness beareth unto me and my lord of
Suffolk for the marriage between us. Sir, I will not in anywise deny but
that I have offended your Grace, for the which I do put myself most
humbly in your clemency and mercy. Nevertheless to the intent that your
highness should not think that I had simply, carnally or of any sensual
appetite done the same, I having no re[gar]d to fall in your Grace's
displeasure, I assure your Grace that I had never done [without your]
ordinance and consent, but by the r[eason of the grea]t despair w[herein
I was put] by the two fr[iars ...], which hath certified me in case I
come [to] En[gland], your Council would never consent to the marriage
between the said lord and me, with [ma]ny other sayings concerni[ng] the
same promise, so that I verily [thought] that the said friar[s] would
never have offered to have made me like over[ture] unless they might
have had charge from some of your Council, the which put me in such
consternation, fear and doubt of the obtaining of the thing which I
desired most in this world, that I rather chose to put me in your mercy
[by] accomplishing the marriage, than to put me in the order of your
Council [knowing th]em to be otherways minded. Whereupon, Sir, I put [my
lord of Su]ffolk in choice w[hether he woul]d accomplish th[e marriag]e
within f[our days or else that he should never have] enjoyed me. Whereby
I know well that I constrained him to break such promises as he made
your Grace, as well for fear of losing me as also that I ascertained him
that by their consent I would never come in to England. And now that
your Grace knoweth the both offences of the which I have been the only
occasion, I most humbly and as your most [sorrow]ful sister requiring
you to have compassion upon us both and to pardon our offences, and that
it will please your Grace to write to me and to my lord of Suffolk some
[comfort]able words, for it sh[all be] greatest comfort for u[s both].
By your loving and most humble sister,

    MARY." [426]

  [426] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. (i.) 226; Calig. D. vi. 242.

Then she wrote to Wolsey: "My very good lord, in most hearty manner I
commend me unto you, letting you the same to understand that my lord of
Suffolk hath sent me your letters which lately he received by Cooke, by
which I perceive the faithful good mind which you do bear unto us both,
and how that you be determined not to leave us in our extreme trouble,
for the which your most fast and loving dealing I most entirely thank
you, requiring you to continue towards us as you have been, which shall
never be forgotten in any of our behalfs, but to the uttermost of our
power we shall be always ready to shew [you all] faithful kindness [as
knowe]th our Lord who [send you long] life. My lord, I require you that
I may have me comfortable letters from the King my brother and from you,
for I trow there was never woman that had more need. By your loving

    MARY, Queen of France."[427]

  [427] _Ibid._, ii. (i.) 256; Calig. D. vi. 254. Green's Royal and
  Illustrious Ladies, i. 198.

But for all Mary's generosity the onus of the explanation fell on
Suffolk, for he was on trial before the Council as well as before the
King, and in spite of Wolsey's warning he insisted on attempting to
explain the dealings with Francis which had laid him open to their
suspicions. "Alas, Sir," he wrote, "as I understand it should be thought
that I should incline too much to the French King's mind. Sir, if I ever
inclined to him in thought or deed otherwise than might stand with your
honour [let] me die for it." And he goes on to give his opinion of how
the amity should be brought about. Then he attacks the main question.
"Sir, one thing I insure your Grace, that it shall never be said that
ever I did offend [you]r Grace in word, deed or thought, but for this
[matter] touching the Queen, your sister, the which I can no longer nor
will not hide from your Grace." Then he describes as far as he can word
for word his interview with Mary on the night of his arrival at Paris,
and begs the King to forgive him and defend him against his enemies who
will think to put him out of favour. He begs some word of comfort from
Henry, "for I promise your Grace that I was never a day whole since I
parted from your Grace. And, Sir, at the writing of this I'm not very
well."[428] Another letter from Wolsey on his danger from the suspicions
of the Council drew a more passionate appeal from him, and it is
characteristic that his greatest sorrow is Henry's loss of confidence in
him, the fault of his marriage with the Queen is as nothing in his eyes
with the breaking of his promise, for that had moved Henry's anger more
than the other. Thus he kneels before the King.

  [428] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. (i.) 80; Calig. D. vi. 179.

"[Most dread]est sovereign lord, with the most sorrowful and [heavy]
heart I your most poor subject beseech you, most [dear]est lord, of
forgiveness of mine offences now made un[to you], and for this said
marriage, the which I have [done great]ly amiss. Where[fore], Sir, for
the passion of God let it not be in your heart against me, but punish me
rather with prison or other wise, as may be your pleasure. Sir, rather
than you should have me in mistrust in your [he]art that I should not be
true to you as there may be accusing [str]ike off my head and let me not
live. Alas, Sir, my lord of York hath written to me two letters that it
should be thought that the French King would make [h]is hand with your
Grace, and that _a_ would occupy me as [a]n instrument there unto. Alas,
Sir, that ever it should be thought or said that I should be so, for,
Sir, your Grace not offended, I will make good against all the world to
die for it, that ever I thought any such thing or did thing, saving the
love and [ma]rriage of the Queen, that should be to your displeasure, I
pray God let me die as shameful a death as ever did man. Alas, that I
ever did this, for afore this done I might have said that there was
never man that had such a loving and kind master, nor there was never
master that ever had a truer servant than your Grace has had of me, and
ever shall have, whatsoever your Grace shall think of me, or any man
else. And thus I make an end with the most sorrowful heart that ever had
man, and not without cause, seeing mine unhap to use myself so [ill
unto] so noble and gracious a master, whose favour [for long time] I had
so sure and so largely that and I had been master of ten realms I should
never have deserved, as k[nows God, who] send your Grace long life with
much h[onour and your heart's] desire."[429]

  [429] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. (i.) 225; Calig. D. vi. 184.

Surely this was penitent enough, but the offering of a merely contrite
heart was not enough for Henry: it had to be gilded.



They turned to the question of money. Henry had already, at the instance
of his Council perhaps, told Suffolk that he was not quite content with
his handling of the dower question, and wrote to him about the end of
February that had he done his devoir, or would do his devoir, the Queen
would obtain all her stuff and jewels. Suffolk replied, "as touching
that, and if I have not done the best therein and will do the best
therein, never be good lord to me, and that I report [_i.e._ refer] me
to my fellows. Alas, Sir, if I should not do the best it were pity [that
I] lived, for I find you so good lord to me that there is none thing
that grieves me but that she and I have no more to content your Grace.
But, Sir, as she has written to you by her own hand, she is content to
give you all that her Grace shall have by the right of her husband, and
if it come not so much as your Grace thought, she is content to give to
your Grace what sum you shall be content to ask, to be paid as her
jointure, and all that she has in the world."[430] Mary's letter
confirmed this. "[Please it y]our Grace to understand [that wh]ereas I
wrote unto your Grace touching my jewels and plate which I promised your
[Gr]ace, such as I have shall be at [yo]ur commandments ever while [I
live]. Howbeit 'tis not so well [as] I would it had been, for there is
much sticking thereat. Howbeit I doubt not but I [s]hall have it at the
link with the good help [of] your Grace and your [Coun]cil that be here.
Sir, I think my lord of Suffolk will wr[ite m]ore plainlier to your
Gra[ce tha]n I do of these matters. Then when you and the[y be] agreed
with your Gr[ace, and] I have them, I will [give] you my part of th[em].
Sir, the French King speaks many ki[nd word]s unto me, a[nd doth affirm]
that he ha[th a] special mind to ha[ve] peace with your Gra[ce be]fore
any prince in Christendom, and, Sir, I would beseech your Grace that it
may be so, if it [might] stand with your favour [and] pleasure, for by
the means and favour of your Gr[ace] I have obtained as much honour in
this realm as was possible to any woman to have, which causes me to
write to your Grace in this matter. Over and ab[ove] this I most humbly
beseech your Grace to write to th[e Fr]ench King and all [yo]ur
ambassadors here [that they] make all sp[eed] possible that I m[ay come]
to your Gra[ce, for my] singular des[ire] and [co]mfort [is to see] your
Grace, above [all thi]ngs in this world. As knoweth our Lord, who [ev]er
preserve your Grace.

    By your loving sister, MARY."[431]

  [430] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. (i.) 80; Calig. D. vi. 179.

  [431] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. (i.) 229; Calig. D. vi. 247.

Francis on his accession had secured Mary's dower to her, and there was
no trouble about her actual jointure, but on the question of movables
the dispute arose. On October 13, 1514, Louis XII. had signed letters of
acquittance on the delivery of his wife, with her jewels, furniture,
etc., representing the 400,000 golden crowns promised as her dowry,
provided that in case of restitution the King and his heirs should only
be bound to restore what she brought with her into France, with the
expenses of her passage. The Queen-dowager was, according to the
marriage contract, to have the use of plate and furniture, presumably
that belonging to the late King, but Francis said it was unreasonable to
expect him to allow this if the Queen left the kingdom. However, Mary's
chief contention was that all the jewels which Louis had laid in her lap
from out those seven coffers at Abbeville and elsewhere, and the gold
plate which she had used, were to be considered by her as her own,
independent of her position as Queen, and that she could do with them as
she liked.[432] This was distinctly contrary to the legal instrument,
but both Mary and Henry were keen on that point, and the haggle, called
negotiations, dragged on. Francis, on the other hand, contended that by
law all the property of the late King should go to pay his debts, and
said that if she kept the property she must take the debts too, and pay
them, for she had no right to the movables. Suffolk was all desire to
content his master, but the legalities of the matter were beyond his
disentangling, "as touching whether she have right or no, I cannot tell,
for it is past my learning."[433] He made the best friends he could
about Francis, "to persuade him, if so it were that she had none right,
that he on his honour might depart with her so that the King [Henry]
might see that he dealt not to the extremity." And so, my lord," he
wrote to Wolsey, "in conclusion I am assuredly advertised that he will
be content to give her the one half of the plate of gold, the which is
valued 50,000 crowns--for the whole is but 100,000 crowns--and also he
will be content to give her in jewels to the sum of 50,000 crowns, the
which, by as far as I can perceive, shall be the one half of the jewels.
My lord, this he will do upon the condition that the King's Grace and
all his Council shall see that she has no right, and that he does it of
his own good will, and for the love of the King's Grace and for hers,
for he will not that it should be thought and she had right but that she
should have all." If division were to be made, then all the jewels would
need to be shown, and Suffolk, as already seen, had to ask for the
return of the jewel sent as a peace-offering to Henry.[434] But Henry
would not send back the famous "Miroir de Naples" and it remained in
England, grudged by the French King. Mary's acknowledgment of the jewels
she received from Francis includes a large diamond called "le Miroir de
Naples" with a large pearl attached; 20 diamonds "enchassez et mis en
œuvre en une bordeur d'or," to serve as a head-dress; 8 large pearls as
buttons for the sleeves; 8 others for a carcanet; a large emerald; a
large ruby and 2 large diamonds set in 4 "chatons d'or": all of which
belonged to her late lord and husband, Louis XII.[435] The jewel and the
promise of many more, and also of two-fifths of her jointure, seems to
have pacified her brother, for he sent letters of recall almost at once,
and wrote to Francis desiring him to allow the return of the Queen to
England. As things were it would be just as well to get the pair home
and let them be married openly in England, but before that, Suffolk's
request that he might be married before leaving France was acceded to,
and a semi-private ceremony took place on the last Saturday in March,
the 30th, and in Lent. Louise de Savoie's diary is the authority for
this date, though probably she was not present, for she had been ill.
"Samedi dernier jour de mars le duc de Suffort, homme de basse condition
lequel Henry VIII de ce nom avait envoyé ambassadeur devers le roi,
épousa Marie." On April 4 definite news of the marriage arrived at
Ghent.[436] It seems fairly probable--but with mutilated and undated
documents it is flying in the face of criticism to be dogmatic--that it
was at this time that Suffolk's cousin, Sir William Sidney, arrived with
letters and a "credence" which brought the duke "great ease and
comfort." He caused Wingfield to write to Wolsey that the archbishop
"had bound him and all his to be yours during their lives."[437] At this
date, too, Henry did his best to silence gossip, and wrote to Margaret
of Austria asking her to contradict all reports in the Prince's court of
a secret marriage.

  [432] L. and P. H. VIII, ii. (i.) 827; Calig. D. vi. 238.

  [433] _Ibid._, ii. (ii.) App. 7.

  [434] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. (ii.) App. 7.

  [435] _Ibid._, ii. (i.) 327; Calig. D. vi. 228.

Henry's anger was short-lived after all. He was genuinely attached to
Suffolk, who had done his business as well as could be expected, and the
King knew what to expect from Francis in the matter of straight dealing,
so the Duke was overjoyed to receive, as a mark of partially renewed
confidence, orders to treat with Francis for the final clauses of the
peace. Wolsey was truly a friend worth having, prodigal of tact and
unwearying in effort. The Duke and the Queen were to come home as soon
as the peace was concluded, and the hitch in the proceedings arose from
Francis' refusal to prevent the departure of the Duke of Albany into
Scotland, for the Scots were to be comprehended in the peace only on the
distinct understanding that the old Franco-Scottish alliance was broken.
Francis, however, said he had no mind to withdraw his protection and
amity from Scotland. By the marriage treaty now concluded he had
detached Flanders from England, and knew that Henry without its aid and
with an hostile "friend" across the border would have small power
against him, but he gave his word as a gentleman, with his hand on his
heart, that his ambitions were entirely Italian. All the same there was
talk of Guelders besieging Tournay, and Francis boasted that he could
have it any day. However, stop Albany he would not, "though he swore he
would jeopard his head and bind him by the censures of the Church that
if the Duke did not bring peace to Scotland in four months he would
bring him home again." And Albany set out to take ship at St Malo,
"mawgre all the ships now in the sea" to stop him. The English had a
great day with the King for his keeping. Francis suggested that if he
stopped Albany for three months then Suffolk should remain the same time
in France as hostage for Henry's behaviour towards the Scots.[438] The
ambassadors promptly said No, they had no authority to do this and would
not if they had, and if the Duke were to help the one party in Scotland,
Henry would certainly send aid to his sister, Queen Margaret. Francis
was too impatient to be off towards Italy to stand long on the order of
his treating, and the same day, April 5, Holy Thursday, while the Queen
and Suffolk were in the church of the Maturins, "adjoining fast to her
Grace's lodging, the French King came in to take pardon and spake not
past two or three words with [the] Queen, but came over to my lord and
showed him [as far] as he could understand, as my lord showed unto us,
that he had stopped the said Duke of Albany's going [into] Scotland, and
that he would send another ambassador that should come through England
and s[how the King and his] Council his instructions."[439] The upshot
was that Francis gave the Scots three months to come into the amity, "so
that it might [seem to] his friends there that he forsook them not," and
peace was signed in London on Easter Monday, March 9. The only bit of
public business now remaining was the Tournay question, but Suffolk had
been bitten and would not again treat of the matter, and referred it for
settlement to the meeting of the Kings.[440] So Tournay remained to the

  [436] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. 303.

  [437] _Ibid._, ii. 297; Calig. D. vi. 220.

  [438] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. (i.) 304; Calig. D. vi. 222.

  [439] L. and P. H. VIII., ii (i.) 304; Calig. D. vi. 222.

  [440] _Ibid._

Francis had promised that Mary should be allowed to depart as soon as
"le tans se trouvera convenable,"[441] and now gave her liberty to
depart the Saturday next after Quasimodo Geniti (Low Sunday, April
15).[442] The date being settled, Wingfield and West were more than ever
anxious to get her affairs definitely settled. The costs of her
"traduction" made the Chancellor hold up his hands in horror that all
that money should have been spent in seven or eight days, but the King,
he said, was willing to make a composition without asking for
particulars. They replied that the hiring and manning of the ships had
occupied a much longer time than that, and that it had been necessary to
scour the seas both east and west beforehand that no enemy might impeach
her passage. As to the question of composition, there could be none in
truth, for the costs were included by an article in the treaty and they
had no other basis for treating. However, if the King would tell them
what sum he had decided on they would either take it or refer it to
Henry. No sum had been decided on, and the answer was deferred till the
next day. Francis told the Chancellor to make an end of the matter and
offer 30,000 francs. Wingfield and West haggled for 20,000 crowns of the
sun, equal to 39,000 francs, which, after consulting together, they
agreed to take, "considering we could bring him to no greater sum, and
in what necessity the Queen was, not having one penny towards her
charges, seeing also the exclamation of the merchants and other
victuallers, and her servants for their wages, especially by them that
be now warned out of (service), we were by force driven to consent to
the said offer, and could not otherwise make shift to furnish her
charges, which be exceeding great as you shall know hereafter, to your
no little marvel."[443] Thus far everything was adjusted but the
question of the jewels and plate, the offer of half of which had been
favourably entertained by Henry. Francis offered 30,000 crowns for the
"Miroir de Naples,"[444] and was exceeding wroth when he found the jewel
had passed the sea beyond recall, and no doubt his wrath accounts for
his scant courtesy to Mary in church on Holy Thursday. Mary must have
made "a good Pask," for England and home were in sight at last, but it
needed another eight days to conclude matters. On Saturday, April 14, in
the Clugny Abbey, Mary signed a receipt for 200,000 gold crowns,
including 20,000 paid for her travelling expenses, returned as moiety of
her dowry that had been already paid.[445] And on the same day Suffolk
authorized his wife to receive and give receipt for jewels, etc., which
formed part of her dowry.[446] This authorization may have been demanded
by Francis to strengthen his point that Mary did not receive the jewels
as right but as a gift from him. On the following Monday Mary gave the
required receipt, and set out at once for home, glad to get out of her
prison, where she had not known a day's health, and to leave Paris with
its mud and smells and innumerable horses. The gold plate was left
behind, with the marriage present which the prudent Venetian ambassador,
who arrived after Louis XII.'s death, had thriftily suppressed, though
Mary had asked for it.[447] Dean West was to try and extract the plate
from the King at the signing of the treaty, and, failing that, Suffolk
said he would give its value to Henry. The impulsive dispatch of the
jewel had spoiled the negotiations, and Francis still was so incensed
that he had "done nothing about the present which he had promised the
Queen by the Grand-master and Bonnivet," and had only given her at her
departing "four baagues of no great value."[448] With the present he
sent the message that she could have the movables if she paid the
debts. West did his best at Montargys, where the treaty of peace with
England was signed, to get more out of the King. On the Dean breaking
roundly with him on the subject, Francis "studied a little," and said he
would give him an answer next day. West then said that the interview
desired by the two Kings depended on Henry's side on the answer he got
about the jewels and plate, and if "he dealt not well with the Queen's
Grace, your sister, in that matter, your Grace would take it so unkindly
that there would be great difficulty to bring it to pass." Next day,
after the ceremony of subscribing the treaty at the high altar, "the
King desired him to repeat in the presence of the Chancellor what he had
said the day before touching the Queen's moveables," and when he had
done so, the Chancellor requested West to withdraw. On being recalled,
West was told by the Chancellor at the King's desire that "if the King
under[stood] that the Queen had any right to the said m[oveables] he
would have given her altogether. And [upon this] as I said she had
received no part, the Chancellor replied that she had the jewel of
Naples, for which the King offered 30,000 crowns, and 18 pearls valued
at 10,000 crowns; but the King trusted to see Henry shortly and they
would settle the matter together."[449] No other answer was to be had,
and West sent Mary's useless seal after her by Suffolk's servant.
Suffolk's commonsense spoke truth when he said they could not compel
Francis to "gyf soo moche wyet howth (without) he lyst."

  [441] _Ibid._, ii. (i.) 281; Calig. D. vi. 260.

  [442] _Ibid._, ii. (i.) 296; Calig. D. vi. 220.

  [443] L. and P. H. VIII., ii (i.) 304; Calig. D. vi. 222.]

  [444] Ibid.]

  [445] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. (i.) 319; R. T. 137.

  [446] _Ibid._, ii. (i.) 320; R. T. 137.

  [447] Giustinian's Despatches, 54.

  [448] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. (i.) 343; Calig. D. vi. 230.

  [449] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. (i.) 437; Calig. D. vi. 231.

The Queen was now (April 16) on her way to Calais with Suffolk. Francis
had gone with her almost to St Denis, and Monsieur and many of the
personages kept her company to Boulogne. The day she left peace was
proclaimed, fires were made at night, and on the morrow there was a
holiday. On the 22nd they came to Montreuil, and there Suffolk's
uneasiness at Wolsey's silence for the past fortnight ("one in his
position was glad of tidings") found vent in a letter to Henry
beseeching pardon and forgiveness.

"Most Gracious Sovereign Lord.--So it is that I am informed divers ways
that all your whole Council, my lord of York excepted, with many others
are clearly determined to tempt your Grace that I may either be put to
death or be put in prison and so to be destroyed. Alas, Sir, I may say
that I have a hard fortune, seeing that there was never none of them in
trouble but I was glad to help them in my power, and that your Grace
knows best. And now that I am in this none little trouble and sorrow now
they are ready to help and destroy me. But, Sir, I can no more but God
forgive them whatsoever comes to me, for I am determined. For, Sir, your
Grace is he that is my sovereign lord and master, and he that has
brought me up out of nought, and I am your subject and servant and he
that has offended your Grace in breaking my promise that I made your
Grace touching the Queen, your sister. For the which, with most humble
heart, I will yield myself unto your Grace's hands to do with my poor
body your gracious pleasure, not fearing the malice of them, for I know
your Grace of such nature that it cannot lie in their powers to cause
you to destroy me for their malice. But what punishment I have I shall
thank God and your Grace of it, and think that I have well deserved it,
both to God and your Grace. As knows our Lord, who send your Grace your
most honorable heart's desire with long life, and me, most sorrowful
wretch, your gracious favour, what sorrows soever I endure therefor.

At _Mottryll_, the 22nd day of April, by your most humble subject and

The letter Mary sent by the same messenger, Sir William Sidney, had been
already submitted to Wolsey, for the draft of it in his secretary's hand
altered in the archbishop's, is extant in the Public Record Office.[450]

"My most dear and entirely beloved brother. In most humble manner I
recommend me to your Grace.

"Dearest brother, I doubt not that you have in your good remembrance
that whereas, for the good of peace and for the furtherance of your
affairs, you moved me to marry with my lord and late husband, King Louis
of France, whose soul God pardon. Though I understood that he was very
aged and sickly, yet for the advancement of the said peace and for the
furtherance of your causes, I was contented to conform myself to your
said motion, so that if I should fortune to survive the said late King I
might with your good will marry myself at my liberty without your
displeasure. Whereunto, good brother, you condescended and granted, as
you well know, promising unto me that in such case you would never
provoke nor move me but as mine own heart and mind should be best
pleased, and that wheresoever I should dispose myself you would wholly
be content with the same. And upon that your good comfort and faithful
promise I assented to the said marriage, else I would never have granted
to, as at the same time I showed unto you more at large. Now that God
hath called my said late husband to his mercy, and I am at my liberty,
dearest brother, remembering the great virtues which I have seen and
perceived heretofore in my lord of Suffolk, to whom I have always been
of good mind, as ye well know, I have affixed and clearly determined
myself to marry him, and the same I assure you hath proceeded only of
mine own mind, without any request or labour of my lord of Suffolk or of
any other person. And to be plain with your Grace, I have so bound
myself unto him that for no cause earthly I will or may vary or change
from the same. Wherefore my good and most kind brother, I now beseech
your Grace to take this matter in good part, and to give unto me and to
my said lord of Suffolk your good will herein, ascertaining you that
upon the trust and comfort which I have for that you have always
honourably regarded your promise, I am comen out of the realm of France
and have put myself within your jurisdiction in this your town of
Calais, where I intend to remain till such time as I shall have answer
from you of your good and loving mind herein, which I would not have
done, but upon the faithful trust that I have in your said promise.
Humbly beseeching your Grace for the great and tender love which ever
hath been and shall be between you and me to bare your gracious mind and
show yourself agreeable hereunto, and to certify me by your most loving
letters of the same. Till which time I will make mine abode here and no
further enter your realms.

  [450] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. (i.) 367; Vesp. F. xiii. 80.

"And to the intent it may please you, the rather to condescend to this
my most hearty desire, I am contented and expressly promise, and bind me
to you by these presents to give you all the whole dot which was
delivered with me, and also all such plate of gold and jewels as I
shall have of my said late husband's. Over and besides this I shall,
rather than fail, give you as much yearly part of my dower to as great a
sum as shall stand with your will and pleasure. And of all the premises
I promise upon knowledge of your good mind to make unto you sufficient
bonds. Trusting verily that in fulfilling your said promise to me made,
you will show your brotherly love, affection and good mind to me in this
behalf, which to hear of I abide with most desire, and not to be
miscontented with my said lord of Suffolk, whom of mine inward good mind
and affection to him I have in manner enforced to be agreeable to the
same, without any request of him made. As knoweth our Lord, whom I
beseech to have your Grace in his merciful governance."[451]

  [451] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. (i.) 227. Letters of Royal and
  Illustrious Ladies, i. 203.

Both letters harped on a "promise," and Mary's argument was all the
stronger that the King's anger was because of Suffolk's broken word, and
Henry was just the man to feel that in these circumstances the royal
word must remain intact. Besides, he was getting his full price. The
argument was very likely Wolsey's, who no doubt was rather weary of
hearing about Suffolk's default. In uncertainty, however, the Queen and
Suffolk went on to Calais, only to find the town inflamed against the
Duke, and it is said he had to keep within the King of England's house
for fear of the people. For nearly a month, in expectation of the
Queen's arrival, the deputation from the town to Henry on important
local business had been put off by command of the Deputy, Sir Richard
Wingfield, "for the town would have been left bare at the arrival of the
Queen,"[452] and possibly this sharpened local exasperation. Stowe says
that Mary crossed on May 2, and the official account says she did not
stay long at Calais, "but within a few short days, the time being fine,
good and suitable, took her passage and arrived at Dover, which is the
place from whence she set sail when she went abroad. At which place she
was met by many honourable personages, as well lords as ladies, and by
them conducted and accompanied to a place called Saint Saulve
(Sauveur_?_) de Grace (_sic_), and about two leagues from the said
county of the said saint, she was met and received by my lord the
Archbishop of York, and from thence also accompanied he conveyed her,
taking the way to Barking, which is a fine manor, where was our said
lord the King. And before she arrived at the said place of Barking, the
King, accompanied by many great princes and lords of this kingdom, in
good and great number met her a mile from the said place of Barking, and
bid her welcome as cordially and affectionately as he possibly could,
rejoicing greatly in her honourable return and great prosperity. And
from the place of the said meeting his highness conveyed her to the said
manor of Barking, at which place it was appointed that the King and she
should stay all the day next ensuing."[453]

  [452] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. (i.) 297; Calig. D. vi. 220.

  [453] Du Puy MS. No. 462, Art. i., Bib. Nat., Paris, quoted in
  Green's Lives of the Princesses of England, v. 102.

What was her real and private reception, and how Suffolk came into his
master's presence, we have no means of knowing. The document given
hereafter in full says that explanations took place in the evening of
their arrival at Barking. By a deed dated May 11th, the day after their
arrival, the final conditions of marriage and forgiveness were settled,
and Mary and Suffolk bound themselves to pay to Henry for expenses over
and above her dowry £24,000 in yearly instalments of £1000, and to
resign to the King's use her dot of £200,000 and her plate and jewels.
On Suffolk's part he resigned the wardship of Lady Lisle.[454] Two days
after this the marriage was openly celebrated at Greenwich, on May
13,[455] in the presence of the whole Court, where the Norfolk faction
gloomed in defeat, for while the Court bulletin sent abroad said that
"all the estates and others of this realm be very glad and well
pleased," Hall was nearer the mark when he wrote that "many men

  [454] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. (i.) 436. R.O.

  [455] _Ibid._, ii. (i.) 468. R.O.

Now that all was _en règle_, the only thing that remained to be done was
to cover up entirely the traces of the first and most irregular
marriage, and to acknowledge and ask for the concealment of the one on
March 31, to which Francis was privy. So Sir William Sidney was sent
back to Francis with a document containing a neat set of events,
arranged to hide improprieties and to guard against future questions. It
is really a safeguard of the legitimacy of the children of the then heir
to the throne. There are two documents, one in Paris and one in London.
Sir William Sidney is told therein (by Wolsey and Suffolk) to represent
to Francis that[456] "the same evening that the said Queen arrived at
the said place of Barking, after many communications and devices had
between the King and her touching her affairs, she among other things
made overture and declaration to the King, our said lord, that the
marriage, for which the King, her son-in-law, had before written very
earnestly by letters of his own hand to the King, our said lord, for the
marriage between her and the Duke of Suffolk, was not only concluded and
determined but was secretly perfected, finished and solemnized in the
Kingdom of France in Lent last past, to the doing of which the King, her
son-in-law, was alone privy, desiring, therefore, with the greatest
possible humility the King, our said lord, to take and accept it in good
part, and to be well content at it and not to object nor lay any blame
on the said Duke of Suffolk, since this proceeded entirely on her own
wish and the singular love that she bore him, and that it proceeded not
all from his procuration or pursuit.

  [456] Du Puy MS. No. 462, Art. i., Bib. Nat., Paris, quoted in
  Green's Lives of the Princesses of England, v. 103.

"Which overture and declaration was at first strange and very
displeasing to the King, nevertheless, recalling the very urgent prayer
and request that the King, his said good brother and cousin, had
heretofore made him upon this by his said letters written with his hand
for the accomplishing of the said marriage, with the very humble
mediation and good aid of my lord of York, the anger of the King was
appeased and somewhat modified. And considering that the said marriage
had been contracted in the prohibited time and season, and without banns
asked, and celebrated by a priest not having authority from the ordinary
therefor, also to avoid the danger which might ensue from the
illegitimation of such children as might be procreated between them two,
and in part guard the King's honour and hers, and also accomplish and
comply with the desire of his said good brother and cousin, the
King--although the King might well have shown more displeasure,
which might have been for his own dignity and that of his
kingdom--nevertheless, for the causes and considerations above declared
and that his said good brother, the King, might assuredly know and
understand that the King would incline and be conformable to all his
reasonable desires, his highness not only consented, but it seemed to
him to be good and expedient--to avoid all danger and to establish the
thing more perfectly--that the said marriage should be openly solemnized
in England and performed in due form and manner with the publication of
banns and all other ceremonies herein requisite and expedient, according
to what has been and is accustomed to be done in such case.

  [_English draft begins here._][457] "Wherefore after all
  preparations made for that purpose and the banns openly asked,
  the said marriage between the said Queen and Duke was solemnized
  at Greenwich in presence of the King, the Queen, and such other
  nobles and estates of this realm as then were attending in the
  Court, on Sunday the 13th day of this instant month of May, and
  with the same all the said estates and others of this realm be
  very glad and well pleased. And considering that there be no mo
  privy to the said secret marriage made between them in France,
  but only the said French King and none privy here unto but the
  King, to whom the said French King and Duke disclosed the same,
  the said Sir William Sidney shall say that the King's Grace
  desireth and perfectly trusteth that for the honour of the said
  French Queen and for avoiding of all evil bruits which may ensue
  thereof, he will reserve and keep the same at all times hereafter
  secret to himself without making any creature privy thereunto,
  like as the King shall do for his part. And at this point the
  said Sir William Sidney shall pause, noting and marking
  substantially what answer the said French King shall make
  hereunto to the intent he may certify the said Archbishop of York
  and the Duke of Suffolk thereof accordingly."

  [457] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. (i.) 468.

Thus Suffolk and Wolsey laboured to repair the damage, but with little
effect; secrecy had become impossible, the news was over Europe.

Here ends the _via dolorosa_ to their open marriage, and now, after this
hour in a fierce light which revealed the very beating of her heart,
Mary sinks back into the cloud of obscurity which covers the lives of
people neither politically nor criminally important. Occasionally, as
will be seen hereafter, the cloud lifts, only to close down again almost
immediately. Of her married life little can be found, and if the
well-known stanza written on their portrait indicates anything, it is a
certain loving tolerance on the part of Suffolk for his capricious,
warm-hearted wife.

    "Cloth of gold do not despise,
    Though thou be matched with cloth of frize:
    Cloth of frize be not too bold,
    Though thou be matched with cloth of gold."



So far as consecutive dated documents go, Mary's history comes to an end
with her open marriage, for this last chapter is largely made up of odds
and ends of information, undated letters, dated scraps, as tantalizing
in their laconic information as the fuller undated letters in their
vagueness. When possible from internal evidence, the letters have been
dated, but generally this is not so, and they are chiefly valuable as
accentuating that pleasant trait in Mary's character, already noticed in
her history, her readiness to use her influence to help her dependents.
The letters are with few exceptions addressed to Wolsey, and they show
in their language, which one cannot help but believe to be the
expression of genuine feeling, that she never forgot his help in her
time of trouble. With one exception, the question of the divorce of
Katharine, we have absolutely no data to show what was her attitude
towards the circling events of the ensuing eighteen years, and this
chapter is found to bear the same relation to the foregoing ones as the
stick does to the rocket.

Suffolk and Wolsey were busy for months over the marriage question, but
one of the first things the Duke found time to do was to retrieve his
daughter Anne from the care of Lady Margaret of Savoy.[458] He wrote to
her on May 30, 1515, thanking her for her care of the child, whom he had
intended to have left permanently in her charge, but as the French Queen
desired her presence, he was sending Sir Edward Guildford to bring her

  [458] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. 529. Add. MS. 14,840.

So far as the jewels and plate were concerned,[459] Sir Wm. Sidney had
no success in his mission to Francis. Neither jewels nor plate were
forthcoming, so Sir Richard Wingfield,[460] who knew all the intricacies
of the affair, was commissioned to go to the French King. Sir Richard
was very unwilling to undertake the journey to Lyons, where was Francis;
"nevertheless, if my voyage shall proceed, I trust it is not the King's
highness mind that I should jeopard my life with him, for if I had one
hundred lives I lever jeopard them with my prince than one with any
other prince." Henry desired no jeoparding of his life, and his
instructions were to thank the French King for his consolation of the
King's sister; and then, other matters relating to the continuation of
the amity having been presented, he was to show to Francis the right of
the Queen-dowager of France to the jewels and plate of gold of her late
husband, and so on through the whole argument again, dwelling on the
fact that the Mirror of Naples is but a small thing, and her own by
right, and using all wisdom, policy, and sober persuasions that he can
to this effect. It was all to no purpose; gold plate and jewels Mary
never saw again, and her income from her dowry was uncertain, and caused
anxiety and weariness all her life. During this year and the next,
while the matter was still fresh in the mind of Henry, he did not cease
to urge the restitution of the jewels, always as a matter of right.

  [459] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. 828.

  [460] _Ibid._, ii. 665.

Mary and her husband had been forgiven and were in favour again, and at
Court became quite naturally the centre of all those French influences
and ideas which have always had such a vivid attraction to Englishmen.
Wolsey's policy, however, was giving way to pressure, and was swinging
back to the traditional one of enmity to France, so that the Suffolks
watched events with some anxiety. They were in communication with the
Duke of Albany,[461] the head of the French party in Scotland: Mary to
ask his protection for her sister, Queen Margaret, and her nephews,
while Albany[462] wrote in October to Suffolk to ask for his good
offices with Henry for him. If Suffolk could only have kept out of the
French circle it would have been safer for him, but he was nervous about
the fulfilment of his marriage contract as it regarded the King, and
desired to continue on friendly terms with Francis and Louise, so that
his very fear of Henry's anger drove him into constant danger of
incurring it. Thus, in 1515,[463] when Bapaume, the French Ambassador,
had been rudely received by Henry, who was annoyed by Francis' brilliant
successes in Italy and by his help to the Scots, what must Suffolk do
but go and smooth matters over. He was as civil as Henry had been the
reverse, and rejoiced at the fitness of the French, and said no one was
more obliged to their King than he was, and that, after Henry, he would
serve him all his life. He reassured Bapaume, whose fears had been
excited by the christening by the French Queen of the new galley, "The
Virgin Mary," and said the ship had only been built to please Katharine
and his wife. A copy of the ambassador's letter to Louise de Savoie,
containing a circumstantial account of this interview with the Duke, and
of one more cordial still with Wolsey, came into the hands of the
Council, and was communicated to Henry (no doubt by Wolsey, for some
reason unknown to us), for in January 1516 Suffolk's matters with the
King were not in good order. The political evil was further tangled by
the financial one, and by the beginning of the year his liabilities to
Henry amounted to £12,000, and they were in the hands of Henry's bankers
and debtors, the Italian merchants, the Frescobaldi, and the Cavalcanti,
to whom the King very often deputed the task of collecting his debts.
There was no prospect of money from France.[464] Francis had taken no
notice of an invitation sent by Suffolk to be godfather at the
christening of the child which Katharine was expecting, and the union
between the English and the Prince of Castile was affirmed by the
looseness of that between Henry and Francis. Thus Suffolk, for the
moment, had lost his master's favour, and his wife her income. Mary sent
"certain jewels and other things" to Henry, to the amount of £1000, and
that tided them over the first payment, but Suffolk begged Henry to have
pity on them both.[465]

  [461] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. 1025; Calig. B. ii. 367.

  [462] _Ibid._, ii. 1026.

  [463] _Ibid._, ii. 1113.

  [464] Giustinian's Despatches, i. 176; L. and P. H. VIII., ii.

  [465] L. and P. H. VIII, ii. 1604.

Mary, however, at this moment had other things to think of, for on
Tuesday, March 11, 1516, "between 10 and 11 o'clock in the night, was
born at Bath Place (Wolsey's house) the son of Mary Queen of France and
Charles Duke of Suffolk, whose christening was deferred unto the
Thursday next following," so he was probably a weakly infant. Typical
state was held at the christening, for, save the little Princess Mary,
who had been born a month before to Katharine, he was the heir to the
throne, and Queen Mary was not one to forget that.[466] "From the
nursery to the hall door was well gravelled, and above all well rushed
of a meetly thickness, and railed round about from the nursery to the
hall door, whereat was a goodly porch of timber work substantially
builded, which porch was hanged without with cloth of arras, and within
hanged with cloth of gold. And also the hall richly hanged with arras."
Red and white roses were everywhere on cushions and hangings. The font
had lukewarm water, and was in the charge of two esquires with aprons,
and two more were there to see that the fire in the recess where the
young lord was to be unarrayed did not smoke. Torches lined the way from
the nursery to the hall, and there were twenty-four in the hall itself.
Down the burning alleyway came the basin, the taper, the salt and the
chrysom, all borne by members of the household; then Lady Anne Grey,
with the young lord in her arms, supported by Lord Dacres, chamberlain
to the French Queen, at the head, and Lord Edward Grey at the foot. The
train was borne by Sir Humphrey Bannister, chamberlain to the Duke of
Suffolk, and four torches were borne about the young lord by four
esquires. The King, the Cardinal, and the old Lady Katharine, Countess
of Devon, Mary's aunt, were sponsors at the font, while the Bishop of
Durham was godfather at the bishoping [confirmation]. The Bishop of
Rochester christened the child, and the King gave the name. Gifts were
presented by the sponsors, the Lady Katharine's being two plain pots of
silver and gilt, the King's a salt of gold and a cup of gold. Then the
company went back to the nursery, where Mary was awaiting them, and
presented the young lord to his mother. The baby's behaviour all through
seems to have equalled that of his little cousin the Princess Mary, who,
according to her father's boast, never cried. Henry's presence at the
christening was probably due to his genuine affection for his sister,
for he had by no means restored Suffolk to favour, and ordered him into
the country till it was his pleasure to see him. The truth was, no
doubt, that Wolsey, who was now "marvellous great"[467] with Sir William
Compton of the Norfolk party, was deep in the negotiations for the
league between England and Flanders, to which Suffolk was naturally
opposed, and his presence in opposition at Court was simply not to be
tolerated. Suffolk spent nearly a whole year in exile from the Court,
though in September, when Henry made a progress through Suffolk and came
to the Duke's own house at Donyngton, he allowed Suffolk to come to him.
Mary, who felt the exile more than her husband, wrote to her brother
thanking him for his condescension.

  [466] Wood MS. No. 8495, F. 33, f. 45, Ashmolean Library, quoted
  in Green's Lives of the Princesses of England.

  [467] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. 1959.

My most dearest right entirely beloved lord and brother,[468]--In my
most humble wise I recommend me unto your Grace, showing unto your
Grace that I do p[erceive] by my lord and husband that you are pleased
and contented that he shall resort unto your presence, at such time as
your Grace shall be at his manor of Donyngton, whereby I see well that
he is marvellously rejoiced and much comforted that it hath liked your
Grace so to be pleased, for the which your special goodness to him,
showed in that behalf, and for sundry and many other your kindness, as
well to me as to him, showed and given in divers causes, I most humbly
thank your Grace, assuring you that for the same I account myself as
much bounden unto your Grace as ever sister was to brother, and
according thereunto I shall to the best of my power during my life
endeavour myself as far as in me shall be possible, to do the thing that
shall stand with your pleasure. And if it had been time convenient and
your Grace had been therewith pleased I would most gladly have
accompanied my said lord in this journey. But I trust that both I and my
said lord shall see you, according as your Grace wrote in your last
letters unto my said lord, which is the thing that I desire more to
obtain than all the honour of the world. And thus I beseech our Lord to
send unto you, my most dearest and entirely beloved brother and lord,
long and prosperous life with the full accomplishment of all your
honourable desires, most humbly praying your Grace that I may be humbly
recommended unto my most dearest and best beloved sister, the Queen's
Grace, and to the Queen of Scots, my well beloved sister, trusting that
[I?] be ascertained from your Grace of the prosperous estate and health
of my dearly beloved n[iece] the princess, to whom I pray God send long

"From Letheringham in Suffolk, the 9th day of September, by the hand of
your loving sister,

    MARIE, Queen of France."

  [468] _Ibid._, ii. 2347; Calig. B. vi. f. 106.

Suffolk's banishment was not revoked, and on November 1 the league
against France between Flanders, Spain, England, and the Swiss was
concluded, of which, as Giustinian the Venetian said,[469] the Cardinal
of York was the beginning, middle and end. Wolsey had not forgotten
Mary, and had tried to get a clause about her dowry inserted into the
treaty, "that in case any prince should refuse to pay debts owing to
England, as if France were to decline paying the dowry of the Lady Mary,
the confederates should be bound to assist him."[470] But the Flemish
Council thought this unreasonable.

  [469] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. (i.) 2500.

  [470] _Ibid._, ii. 2427; Galba B. iv. 184_b_.

The new year, 1517, brought new demands for the King's payments, and the
Earl of Shrewsbury had been dunning the Duke for certain smaller sums.
In February Suffolk went to London to go into the state of his own and
his wife's debts to the King with Wolsey (the Venetian Ambassador met
him at the Cardinal's, very busy over them),[471] and he afterwards
wrote to Henry:--

   "Sir,[472]--In the most humble wise I commend me to your Grace.
   And, Sir, so was it at the last time I was with your Grace I went
   through with my lord Cardinal for such debts as the Queen your
   sister and I are in to your Grace, for the which it was thought
   by your Grace's Council learned that your sister and I both must
   confer divers things before your judges according unto the law.
   And, Sir, I beseech you that she may come up to the intent that
   she may do all such acts, according as be devised or shall be
   devised most for your Grace's surety, to the intent that
   whatsoever shall happen of me that your Grace may be in surety,
   and that it shall not be said but it is her deed and free will
   the which your Grace shall well perceive that it is done with
   good mind and heart. And, Sir, the coming up of her to see your
   Grace shall rejoice her more than the value of that if it should
   be given to her. Sir, it is so that I have heard by my lord
   Morley and others that your Grace intends to have some pastime
   this May and that your Grace's pleasure is that I shall give mine
   attendance on your Grace, the which I shall be as glad to do as
   any poor servant or subject that your Grace has living. Howbeit,
   Sir, I am somewhat unprovided of such things as belong to that
   business, wherefore if it may stand with your Grace's pleasure I
   would bring up the Queen, your sister, against Easter to both
   plays, and then remain till she and I may know your Grace's
   further pleasure, to the which she and I shall obey with humble
   heart, according to her duty and mine. As knows God, who preserve
   your Grace in long life with as much health and honour as your
   noble heart can desire, which is both her and my daily prayer.

    "By your most humble subject and servant,


  [471] Giustinian's Despatches, ii. 35.

  [472] Titus B. i. f. 69.

Shortly after having written this letter Suffolk was annoyed by an
incident which might have embroiled him further with the King. It was
all through the meddlesome match-making of Mistress Jerningham, who
ought to have known better. In March Queen Katharine was going to Our
Lady of Walsingham to pray for a son, and on the way she was to be
entertained by the Suffolks. The Duke's letter to Wolsey explains the

"My very good lord,[473]--In my most heartiest manner I commend me unto
your good lordship, ever more thanking you for the good mind that you
have borne unto me, and beseeching your good continuance of the same. So
it is, my lord, according to your advice I met the Queen my mistress on
Friday last past at Pickenham Wood, and as my duty was, awaited upon her
Grace to Walsingham, and also according to your advice the French Queen
did meet with the said Queen my mistress at the next place that was
convenient nigh unto our lodging, and such poor cheer as we could make
her Grace we did, with as good heart and mind as her own servants
according to our duties. Furthermore, my lord, as yesterday, Monday, the
16th day of March, Mistress Jerningham came to the French Queen my wife
at dinner time, before the Queen my mistress coming hither, and after
that she had been with the said Queen my wife, she took her
daughter-in-law aside with her, and called young Berkeley [heir to Lord
Berkeley] unto them, and there privately ensured [betrothed] the said
Berkeley unto the Lady Anne Grey, one of the Queen my wife's ladies and
mine. Which is no little displeasure unto me, seeing he is the King's
ward, and that it pleased his Grace to put him to my rule and guiding. I
had lever have spent a thousand pound than any such pageant should have
been done within the Queen's house and mine. My Lord, I heartily desire
and pray your good lordship that if any misinformations be made unto the
King's Grace hereof that it will please you to shew his Grace hereof as
I have written unto you, lest his Grace should give credence unto some
other light informations herein, which I should abide by upon my honour,
and that it will please you to stay the matter till my coming up to
London. Also that it would please your lordship so to order this matter
that it may be an example to all other, how they should make any such
mysteries within any nobleman or woman's house hereafter, and in
especially with one of the King's wards. And thus fare you well, my very
good lord, I beseech Jesu to send you long life and good health. From
the manor of Rising, the 17th day of March.

    "By your assured

  [473] Green's "Lives of the Princesses of England," v. 116.

The betrothal was of course invalid, and Suffolk got no blame in the
matter, but it is a great pity one cannot read what Wolsey said to
forward Mistress Jerningham. Suffolk came to Court for St George's Day,
was well received by the King and Wolsey, and in a few days returned to
Suffolk to bring his wife to town, and they were spectators of the
Cardinal's "pageant" when at the intercession of himself and the three
queens, for the Queen of Scots was in London, the King pardoned the
rioters of the Evil May Day. Mary saw the fine sight when each of the
forty men in custody took the halter from his neck and threw it in the
air, and jumped for joy at his escape from death. "It was a very fine
spectacle and well arranged," said a cynical foreigner. In July they
were present at the banquet and jousts given at Greenwich to the
ambassadors of the Emperor and the King of Spain on the signing of the
treaty of amity. Suffolk signed it, and with it lost, he probably
thought, all chance of his wife's income. At Greenwich the sailors from
the King's great galley set up the cables for the tilt, and the two
queens, Katharine and Mary, watched their husbands joust under the
windows of the palace,[474] "like Hector and Achilles," Henry in black
and white, the Duke in white, lozenged with crimson satin semé with the
letters C.M., for Charles and Mary. Then came a banquet, when the French
Queen sat at the head of the table beside her brother, and Suffolk was
in the middle of one side opposite Norfolk and old Lady Guildford.
During the dinner boys made the sweetest melody with their voices,
flute, rebeck, and harpsichord, and after this there was dancing, when
the King showed himself indefatigable, dancing all night after jousting
all afternoon. The great feature in the whole series of entertainments
was the playing of Fra Dionysius Memo,[475] late organist at St Mark's,
Venice, and now chief musician to Henry, and so sweet it was, and so
enthralled was the King by it, that the Court had concerts lasting for
four hours on end. Henry always led the applause vehemently. The Court
resounded with song, and there was rivalry among the boy singers and the
musicians. Small wonder that Mary, whose tastes were like her brother's,
longed to be always at Court with such gay company, but Suffolk could
not move without running up against his creditors, and again he had to
refuse Lord Shrewsbury,[476] who was pressing for his money, so that
probably his enjoyment was not as whole-hearted as his Queen's.

  [474] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. 3455.

  [475] C. S. P. Venice, i. 910.

  [476] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. 3487.


Immediately the festivities were over,[477] Mary went to Bishop's
Hatfield, and there was delivered of a daughter who was called Frances,
for she was born on St Francis' Day. The Queen and the Princess Mary
were godmothers, for whom Lady Boleyn, Anne Boleyn's mother, and Lady
Elizabeth Grey acted as deputies, and the Abbot of St Albans was
godfather. There was great state at the christening, but nothing like
that held for the young lord who might become King of England.

  [477] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. 3487 and 3489.

The financial arrangement which Suffolk had made with the Council was an
indenture which showed that their debts to Henry amounted to £24,000 due
by them at Calais, £600 for their diets in the King's house, and also
£2300 for other things. Of this, £20,000 was the proper debt of the
French Queen, and £6901 the debt of the Duke. Henry acknowledged having
received from them in jewels £1666, 13s. 4d., and was to receive the
remainder in instalments of 1000 marks at Michaelmas and at Easter, "if
the French Queen so long live and the Duck togeders," and it probably
was now that the clause was inserted by which the King waived his right
to demand payment when by reason of war Mary's income was practically
cancelled.[478] Francis promised in February 1518 that the dowry of his
_belle-mère_ should be paid, and gave orders to the officers in
Saintonge, and the other places of her dower-lands, to let her
representatives receive the rents, and the result was that 14,610 crowns
were paid to Henry's representative, Fowler, at Calais. The arrangement
with the Suffolks seems to have been that the King's officer was to
receive the amount paid by the French, and that he was to pay over to
the Queen the proportion due to her after the King's debt was satisfied,
and in July 1518 Humphrey Wingfield, the Duke's officer, gave receipt
for £2722.

  [478] _Ibid._, ii. 43* App.

The Easter of 1518, the French Queen and her husband were ordered to the
Court at Abingdon,[479] whither Henry had fled from the sweating
sickness, out of the region of the daily death-roll. Suffolk wrote to
Wolsey[480] to know how the French Queen was to be ordered in her coming
to the King, "the which shall not fail to be followed." Mary was always
delighted to be at Court, and by reason of her[481] Henry allowed
Suffolk to remain till St George's Day. This was an opportunity for the
Duke by protestation to clear himself of the slur cast on him by his
reported private dealings with the French, and after he had received the
sacrament on Easter Day,[482] he went to Sir Richard Pace, Wolsey's
secretary with the King, and said he had been accused as untrue to the
King's Grace as well in accepting a protection offered him by France, as
in putting the French orators, on their being last in England, in
comfort of the restitution of Tournay. It was all untrue. Pace listened
and reported, but nothing happened, save that Suffolk remained at Court
with his wife, and when Henry went to Woodstock Manor, they both went
with him. Henry here indulged his passion for music to the extent of
having the organs in the parish church repaired and taken to the manor
house by two men had down from London for the purpose, and Dionysius
Memo charmed the thoughts of the sickness out of his mind. Mary fell
ill there and could not be moved, and her husband wrote to Wolsey to
apologize for their over-staying their invitation. "The chief cause[483]
of my writing unto your Grace at this time is to advertise your Grace
that the French Queen cannot depart the Court so soon as was appointed,
for, Sir, it hath pleased God to visit her with an ague, the which has
taken her Grace every third day four times very sharp, but by the grace
of God she shall shortly recover. For, Sir, the King's Grace's
physicians take marvellous good heed unto her Grace, and also especially
his Grace comforts her so like a good and loving sovereign and brother
that it takes away a great part of her pain." Before she was able to be
moved, Suffolk again urged his cause on Wolsey, telling Pace of the most
faithful love and servitude he intended to use towards the Cardinal's
Grace during his life, and Wolsey evidently wrote to him a letter of
comfort, promising to help him[484] "to obtain his purpose to his
reasonable desires." In October Mary, now quite recovered from her ague,
was again in her element, for a brilliant party of French nobles came
over for the signing of the general peace, against which was put the
delivery to the French of Tournay, and for the marriage of the Princess
Mary to the Dauphin of France. They were a constant pageant to the
Londoners, for they changed their silken clothes, "the new fashion
garment called a shemew,"[485] every day, and rode about the city on
mules in companies, a thing no Englishman ever did. But then in Paris,
the city of horses and mules, the mud and dirt was such that no man
could walk, and the Parisians did not make their river their highway as
did the people of London. Mary's old friend Bonnivet was at the head of
the embassy, and with him "many young fresh gallants of the Court of
France," who were not concerned in the treaty-making, but "danced and
passed the time in the Queen's chamber with ladies and gentlewomen." On
October 3 the general peace was declared in St Paul's, after Mass
celebrated by Wolsey with extraordinary magnificence. The King invited
the whole company to dine at the Bishop of London's house, and
afterwards they all went to sup with the Cardinal at Durham House[486]
on the Strand, where was served a supper "the like of which was never
given either by Cleopatra or Caligula, the whole banquetting hall being
so decorated with huge vases of gold and silver that I [the Venetian
Ambassador] fancied myself in the tower of Chosroes, where the monarch
caused divine honour to be paid to him." Then Henry and Mary, and
Suffolk and Anne Carew, and Bessie Blount and Sir Harry Guildford, with
other lords and ladies, appeared as mummers dancing, and "after
performing certain dances in their own fashion, they took off their
visors: the two leaders were the King and Queen-dowager of France, and
all the others were lords and ladies, who seated themselves apart from
the tables and were served with countless dishes of confections and
delicacies." Then dancing began for those who liked, and play for those
who preferred that, "large bowls filled with ducats and dice being
placed on the table for such as liked to gamble," and after all the
company had departed Henry remained to play high with the Frenchmen. Two
days after followed the wedding of the little Princess to the Dauphin
at Greenwich, when in front of Katharine and the French Queen, beside
the throne, stood the baby who never cried, clad in cloth of gold, with
a cap of black velvet on her head adorned with many jewels. She wanted
to kiss Bonnivet, for she thought he was the Dauphin when he wedded her
for the other baby with a little ring set with a big diamond, _juxta
digitum puellæ_.

  [479] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. 4034.

  [480] _Ibid._, ii. 4035.

  [481] _Ibid._, ii. 4061.

  [482] _Ibid._

  [483] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. 4134.

  [484] _Ibid._

  [485] Hall's Chronicle (ed. 1809), p. 594.

  [486] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. 4481.

The Court was now gayer than ever, for Henry seemed to do nothing but
amuse with pageants and hunts the French hostages exacted for the
keeping of the peace, and Mary took her part in all. She passed the
winter months of 1519-20 at Court or at her husband's house in
Southwark, and now the talk was all of the meeting of the English and
the French kings. Henry had set his mind on it, had sworn he would wear
his beard till they met, and Katharine, usually a silent spectator of
political doings, had set hers on a meeting with her nephew Charles of
Spain, now the Emperor Charles V. She found she could not prevent the
interview with Francis, but she did persuade her husband, and possibly
Mary here joined her importunities to hers, to shave his beard. The news
was carried to Louise de Savoie, who had to console herself with the
reflection that "the love of the kings was not in their beards but in
their hearts." A good understanding with Francis meant to Mary an
assured income, and on the question of the interview she may have been
at variance with her sister-in-law. The Court moved to Croydon to Sir
Nicholas Carew's place, in February, and Mary went with them, but here
she was taken ill of her "old disease," and would not let her husband
from her side, as he writes to Wolsey on March 16, 1520.

"Please it, your lordship,[487] so it is that I have knowledge of your
pleasure by my servant Lacy that I should ascertain your lordship of the
number of such persons, as well men as women, as should give their
attendance upon the French Queen at her giving her attendance upon the
King's Grace in his coming to Calais. And also the number of the horses
that should be requisite for the said French Queen and for her said
servants. My lord, accordingly I have so avised you in the bill here
enclosed the number as well of the said persons as of their horses.
Wherefore the said French Queen and I doth most heartily desire your
lordship to take the pain to order the same as you shall think shall
stand most with the King's pleasure and her honour, and her Grace will
be contented to follow the same. And, my lord, whereas I of a certain
space have not given mine attendance upon your lordship in the King's
Council according to my duty, I beseech your lordship to pardon me
thereof. The cause why hath been that the said French Queen hath had,
and yet hath, divers physicians with her for her old disease in her
side, and as yet can not be perfectly restored to her health. And albeit
I have been two times at London only to the intent to have waited on
your lordship, yet her Grace at both times hath so sent for me that I
might not otherwise do but return home betimes. Nevertheless her Grace
is now in such good avancement that upon Tuesday or Wednesday next
coming I intend, by God's grace, to wait upon your lordship. From
Croydon, by your assured CHARLYS SUFFOKE."

  [487] L. and P. H. VIII. iii. 684.

This recurrence of the "old disease" may have been brought on by the
birth of her third child, Eleanor, but there is no record of the date of
this event. The doctors were successful, or else the prospect of
excitement and gay doings worked a cure, for there is no doubt she was
restored to her usual frail health when the meeting between the two
kings was in near preparation. Mary "made great cost on the apparel" of
her ladies and gentlewomen, and doubtless her own gowns were as
magnificent as befitted the sister of Henry. But first Katharine was to
have her desire, and Mary was to see the man whose name she had borne in
her girlhood for six years. On his way back from Spain to be crowned at
Aix-la-Chapelle, Charles V. had arranged to meet Henry before the latter
crossed the Channel in May, but north-easterly winds kept him at Corunna
for three weeks, and he could only snatch a hurried four days' visit to
his aunt and uncle at Canterbury, where the English Court was on its way
to Calais. There is a legend to the effect that Mary's beauty on this
occasion so affected Charles that he was cast into melancholy at the
thought of having lost her as his wife, but it is doubtful, to say the
least, that he was moved by anything deeper than natural curiosity to
see the woman who had jilted him in his youth. No doubt Mary emulated
her brother's attitude when he was told that he had no chance of the
imperial crown, for which he had been Charles' rival, and said now, as
he did then, that she was better as she was. This pale-faced, silent,
sombre young man, busy about the realities of government, was far less
to her taste than her rubicund, good-natured husband, her lord and
servant, over whom she could queen it in Tudor fashion when the occasion
served. The maker of the legend knew more of the hearts of princesses
than of emperors, and Mary, true to her upbringing, wore, no doubt, the
pretty gowns she had had made for the meeting with the French Court, and
would have been gratified had she seen the faintest desire in the eyes
of her former suitor. It may have been there, but it found no accredited

On June 1 the whole Court crossed the Channel, and four days afterwards
rode from Calais to the camp at Guisnes, where the sun glittered on
golden tents and roofs. There the King and Queen and Mary were lodged in
the house built for them in the courtyard of the castle of Guisnes,
under the roof painted and gilded by John Brown, King's painter,
afterwards Alderman of London. Since the beginning of April Sir Nicholas
Vaux and others had been busy restoring the castle to its former
strength, and with the help of many artists, particularly of John
Raslett, Clement Urmeston, and the said John Brown, had erected this
palace of pleasure. "Mr Maynn,[488] who dwelleth with the Bishop of
Exeter, and Maister Barklye, the Black Monke and poet," were "to devise
histoires and convenient raisons to florisshe the buildings and banquet
house with all," and the Duke of Suffolk[489] was asked to lend divers
of the King's arms and beasts cast in moulds, and batons of Urmeston's
making for the greater ease and furtherance of the business. The time
for the erecting of the house was short and the workmen laboured at high
pressure, but on June 5 it stood complete, a golden casket for the best
in England. The windows glittered in golden mullions, the walls were
hung with golden tapestry and green and white silk, the ceilings were
studded "with the King's roses"[490] (of which he had been so nearly
disappointed by the late arrival of the artists), large and stately, set
in a ground of fine gold, and between the windows were gilt bosses. The
chapel,[491] for the service of which the rich vestments given by Henry
VII. to Westminster were borrowed, had a ceiling of blue and silver, but
all other ornaments and furnishings were of cloth of gold or of gold
metal. Jewels blazed everywhere, in vestments, vessels, hangings;
neither was the red and white rose absent here. In the courtyard,
claret, hypocras, and water flowed all day from a statue of Bacchus, and
silver cups were lying by to drink from; but outside, between the gate
and the courtyard, was a quiet, green bowery maze like "the garden of
Morganna la Fée of the days of the knights errant."[492] The Earl of
Dorset had been sent over to superintend the building of the lists and
the stands, galleries they were called, after Wolsey's "plat," but the
churchman had to give way here to the jouster, and some of Wolsey's
arrangements were declared to be dangerous, and were altered
accordingly. The tree of honour, on which were to be hung the shields of
the kings as challengers, was a hawthorn twined with a raspberry, and
was made in England by nimble English fingers. Margaret Davy and her
girls made 3000 hawthorn flowers and buds of silk, and the "framboser"
had 1800 flowers and 2400 red satin fruits. "The body of this royal
albypene or whitethorn was 22 feet long, wrapped in cloth of gold: the
thirteen principal frambosers were also wrapped in fine green cloth of
gold: also the roots wrapped after a kind in cloth of gold."[493]
Before this wonderful production Francis and Henry had the usual
amicable dispute of precedence, and it ended in Henry's insisting on the
French King's shield being hung on the right side, while his was hung at
the same height on the left.

  [488] L. and P. H. VIII., iii. 737; Calig. D. vii. 202.

  [489] _Ibid._, iii. 750; Calig. D. vii. 218.

  [490] L. and P. H. VIII., iii. 750; Calig. D. vii. 218.

  [491] _Ibid._, iii. 704.

  [492] _Ibid._, iii. 870; Hall's Chronicle (ed. 1809), p. 605 _et

  [493] L. and P. H. VIII., iii. p. 1553.

Before the jousts began on Monday, June 11, there were visits of
ceremony, and on Sunday the 10th the two kings exchanged visits to each
other's wives, and Francis was received in the most gracious manner
possible by Katharine and Mary, while Claude was pleased and soothed by
Henry's gentle manners. Francis was delighted with the glistening show
at Guisnes, just as Henry at Ardres was pleased with Queen, ladies (in
passing whom "il allait tout à son aise pour les voir à son plaisir),"
dinner, everything, in short, down to the velvet carpet in the high
room. Monday began the lists, and the queens, all three, met in the
glazed galleries reserved for them and talked comfortably out of the
roaring wind, while below their husbands did marvels, in spite of the
blast, which would hardly let a lance be couched. Many of the ladies had
no French and many no English, and those who knew both languages had to
interpret for the others. On the following Sunday, Queen Mary dined with
Queen Claude, who was in miserable health, while Henry, who had ridden
over with her, dressed as Hercules, invited the Admiral of France and
other noblemen to share his table in the French camp. After dinner there
was the usual dancing and disguising, and it is marvellous what pleasure
the Tudor Court got out of "dressing up." Now Henry dressed up as a
lanzknecht, and, masked, he swaggered into Claude's presence as pleased
as a child. There were musical rivalries too between the courts, but in
this England easily bore the palm, for Henry's Court was notorious for
its melody, and the Duke of Alençon could not give the King greater
pleasure than to promise to send him his servant who played on the
clavichord. On Saturday, the 23rd, the two kings, "all clinquant, all in
gold," closed the lists, and in a semi-open chapel in the camp they and
their Queens attended Mass, and such was their politeness that "when God
was shown at the said Mass, which was with great honour, reverence and
devotion," and the pax presented, neither would kiss it first. It
remained unkissed, for the Queens, too, had the same difficulty, which
they solved after many curtseys by kissing each other instead. Then came
a dinner, and the sexes were divided--the Kings dined in one gallery,
the Queens in their own. "Kings and Queens," remarks the chronicler,
"always dined at home before coming to the banquets, and only conversed
while admiring the service and the meats. The legates, cardinals and
prelates dined in another room and drank and ate _sans fiction_." The
next day the Kings met in the lists and reluctantly said good-bye,
exchanging many presents, as did their Queens and nobles. A church, they
decided, must be built on this auspicious spot, to be called "La
chapelle de Nôtre Dame de la Paix," and the chronicler adds a doubtful
prayer, "Dieu par sa Grace permette la paix être durable, Amen."[494]

  [494] L. and P. H. VIII., iii. 870.

Then followed the meeting with Charles V. and the Lady Margaret of
Savoy, and Mary saw for the first time the woman whose fortune had so
often touched hers, for Margaret might have been her step-mother or her
aunt, and had been in love with her husband. Suffolk seems to have lost
his love for France by now, and, indeed, though French fashions were the
order in the Court, and Henry went to the interview with the Emperor in
a doublet and cloak given to him by Francis, the King's retinue were
more at their ease in the Court of the King of Spain than they had been
at Ardres. If servants' talk is any indication of their masters'
opinions, then Suffolk must have been hot against the French alliance,
for his servants could "not hold their tongues from speaking against
France."[495] If this be so, Suffolk was now definitely in opposition to
Wolsey. The trial and death of the Duke of Buckingham, undoubtedly
Wolsey's work, for wanting to make himself King, shocked the whole Court
and increased this bitterness against the Cardinal, long felt by the
older nobles. Buckingham had merely said what they all felt, that the
King was surrounded by boys and that no place was given to men who had
experience in counsel. But then Wolsey had a policy, and hated time
wasted in opposition, and boys did not oppose. Henry was still a far cry
from his final attitude when he tried, condemned and executed all in a
breath, but even now the wrath of the King meant death. All chose rather
dishonour, and Buckingham's peers to a man, and the Duke of Norfolk with
bitter tears, condemned him on puerile evidence for a crime which in
their hearts they had all committed. Buckingham was no favourite, a
quick-tempered man with a bitter tongue, and Mary would be loyal to her
family, and without doubt took her brother's view, and approved heartily
Suffolk's "I say that he is guilty," for she was indignant at this
attempt to wrest the crown from her family, and no other aspect of the
case would be presented to her. Neither she nor her husband disdained to
profit in the grants[496] from the Duke's estates, which followed his
execution and their confiscation.

  [495] L. and P. H. VIII., iii. 926; Galba B. vi. 186.

  [496] L. and P. H. VIII., iii. 3162.

The peace between England and France was of short duration, and by 1523
Henry was keenly interested in fishing for a crown in the waters of
France troubled by the Bourbon rebellion. One reason for war given in
the Parliament of 1523[497] was the injury done to the King's sister,
the Queen-dowager of France, in withholding her dower. Mary was parted
from Suffolk, who was made Earl Marshal and sent to command the English
army in France, which, in conjunction with the Burgundians, was to march
on Paris. Suffolk, by refusing to follow Henry's senseless plan of
besieging Boulogne, and "by winning the passage of the Somme and
unresisted entry into the bowels of France,"[498] encouraged the King to
think there was likelihood of his obtaining his ancient right. But there
was the usual difficulty of joint arms, and the Burgundians, unpaid by
Margaret, refused to go beyond the Somme, "limoners"[499] (transport
horses) were unobtainable in the winter, and there were no provisions,
so that the army "dissolved and skaled," and Suffolk came to Calais in
December with small thanks.[500] He was kept waiting there a long time
with his captains "till their friends had sued to the King for their
return," for Wolsey and the King had both wrung the uttermost penny from
the country and the King's treasury to win the crown of France, and
bitter was Henry's disappointment. "But at the last all things were
taken in good part, and they well received and in great love, favor and
familiaritie with the Kyng."[501]

  [497] _Ibid._, iii. 2958.

  [498] _Ibid._, iii. 3485; Galba B. viii. 87.

  [499] _Ibid._, iv. 26.

  [500] _Ibid._, iii. 3623; Add. MS. 24,965, f. 131.

  [501] Hall's Chronicle (ed. 1809), p. 672.

The life of Queen Mary when not at Court or at her husband's house in
Southwark was spent chiefly in Suffolk and Norfolk, for when provisions
at Westhorpe, their chief seat, gave out, she toured through the
counties from house to house and from abbey to abbey, in imitation of
the royal custom. Pic-nics and hunting parties were her diversions, and
she evidently delighted in the kindly and courteous treatment she always
received from the monks.[502] Her household was a large one; in 1527 it
consisted of two knights and one esquire, forty men, and seven
gentlewomen,[503] and this naturally did not include domestic servants.
She had her chamberlain, her vice-chamberlain, treasurer, steward, and
comptroller, while her husband had his officers and his council, and
ruled county affairs. Mary was beloved by the country-folk and adored by
her servants, in whose welfare she took the keenest interest, as is
attested by the numerous letters written by her to Wolsey and others in
their favour. She was not without domestic troubles, for her husband's
former wife, Dame Margaret Mortimer,[504] who owned Somerton in Suffolk,
had had to appeal to the Duke for protection against her daughter Anne,
whose second husband, Robert Browne, wanted to get hold of Lady
Mortimer's possessions. The affair, which in some scenes was
melodramatic enough, possibly led to questions about the validity of
Mary's own marriage and the legitimacy of her children. This was in
1524, and next year the King openly acknowledged his illegitimate son by
Mistress Bessie Blount, and made him premier Duke in the kingdom, with
the title of Duke of Richmond. At the same time he created Lord Henry
Brandon, Mary's son, Earl of Lincoln.[505] Then came the "King's secret
matter," to which her husband was privy, in the summer of 1527,[506] and
of which she was probably not ignorant. This was Henry's tardy
consciousness of guilt at having married his brother's wife, which
increased in intensity as his love and desire for Anne Boleyn grew
stronger. What large issues were to hang on the fact that Anne was not
as easy as the other ladies at Court. Had she but been a Bessie Blount!
Mary was alarmed at this upsetment of all social status, and sent to
Rome for a bull from Clement VII. to attest the legitimacy of her
children's birth. It was exhibited before the Bishop of Norwich by
Humphrey Wingfield, the Duke's cousin, on August 20, 1529.[507] Scruples
of conscience being fashionable, it rests on these the facts of the
annulling of Suffolk's marriage with Lady Mortimer and his resumption of
Anne Browne. Money matters, too, were a constant worry all her life
long. Apart from the fact that payment to Mary might flow in peace and
was dammed in war, the officials who farmed her dower lands in Saintonge
and elsewhere did not pay over the proceeds as had been arranged, and
she was continually hampered by lack of money, while her representatives
in France during the wars were imprisoned and put to ransom.[508] When
the general peace was signed with France in 1518 Wolsey did not forget
Mary's interests; in fact, he was not allowed to do so, for Dr Denton,
the French Queen's almoner, daily waited on him to represent her
interests. Once before they had been omitted "for lack of her
book,"[509] and Denton was there to see that this did not happen again.
Wolsey gave him all heed in the matter, and the dot was set forth by the
English ambassadors in Paris. In 1525 the capture of Francis at Pavia
left France without a king, and gave the English a chance to open
profitable negotiations with Louise de Savoie,[510] the Regent. The
restitution of Mary's dowry, with payment of arrears, was made a
necessary article in the truce. Wolsey even went the length of demanding
the gold plate and jewels, but Louise was indignant, and repeated what
had been so often said, that Mary had been married according to the
customs of France, by which movables were the common property of man and
wife, and descend to the survivor, but only on payment of debts, and
Mary had repudiated her responsibility for these. Also "the miroir," the
most excellent jewel in Christendom, had been sent to England, and the
English might well be satisfied with this. However, Louise gave a
satisfactory promise that Mary's dowry should be paid at Calais twice
yearly in May and November, and that arrears should be paid up at the
rate of £5000 per annum. There was a good deal of haggling about who
should farm the dower lands; the French Court wanted to appoint the
officers, but Mary demanded the right to do this, and it was conceded.
She wrote to Wolsey on the matter, and, if words mean anything, the
letter shows the kindly terms on which she was with the Cardinal.

  [502] Chron. Butley Abbey, Tanner MS. 90, ff. 29-33, Bodleian
  Library, quoted by Mrs Green.

  [503] L. and P. H. VIII., iv. 2972.

  [504] _Ibid._, iv. 736-7.

  [505] L. and P. H. VIII., iv. 1431 (8); Add. MS. 6113, f. 61,

  [506] L. and P. H. VIII., iv. 3217.

  [507] _Ibid._, iv. 5859.

  [508] L. and P. H. VIII., iii. 2446 and 3535.

  [509] _Ibid._, ii. 4388.

  [510] _Ibid._, iv. 1093.

"My lord,[511] in my most hearty wise I recommend me unto you. So it is
divers of my rights and duties concerning my dot in France have been of
late time stent and restrained, in such case as I ne mine affairs may
not have ne receive the same as they have done in times past being to my
damages therein. And so thereat great trouble many ways, as my trusty
servant George Hampton, this bearer, shall shew unto you, to whom I pray
you to give credence in the same. And my lord in this and in all others
I evermore have and do put mine only trust and confidence in you for the
redress of the same. Entirely desiring you therefore that I may have the
King's Grace's, my dearest brother's, letters unto France to such as my
said servant shall desire. And by the same I trust my said causes shall
be brought to such good conclusion and order now, that I shall from
henceforth enjoy my estate there in as ample use as I have heretofore.
And so it may stand with your pleasure, I would gladly my dearest
brother's ambassadors being in France now, by your good means should
have the delivery of the said letters with them, furthermore of the
contents of the same to that they may do. And thus my lord I am evermore
bold to put you to pains without any recompense unless my good mind and
hearty prayers, whereof ye shall be assured during my life to the best
of my power, as knoweth the Lord."

  [511] L. and P. H. VIII., iv. 1542.

Suffolk's letter a month later is just as friendly. He says, "The said
French Queen and I do not only put this matter in your hands, but at all
times hereafter shall do in the same as shall be thought good by your
Grace, as we be bounden to do, seeing the great kindness that your Grace
doth daily shew unto the said French Queen and me by the which you bind
us during our life to do your Grace such pleasures as shall lie in our
powers."[512] For the last few years of her life Mary's income was paid
regularly, thanks largely to Wolsey, to whom she and her husband had
cause to be grateful, as they both said.

  [512] L. and P. H. VIII., iv. 1543.

But the Cardinal was upsetting the old order, and life in the county of
Suffolk was not as pleasant as it had been. The people had banded and
murmured against the subsidies for the French war. The master
cloth-workers (Suffolk was the centre of the woollen trade) said if they
paid the King they could not pay their hands; the work-folk said, No
work, no paying of the subsidy; and they rioted. Suffolk, aided by the
new Duke of Norfolk, no friend of his or of Wolsey's either, had to put
down the insurrection. Then Wolsey was suppressing some of the smaller
monasteries and founding Ipswich College. Some of Mary's friends among
the clergy were suffering, notably the Abbot of St Benets,[513] and she
and her husband had to relinquish to the use of the new college their
title deeds to the Priory of Snape, of Sayes Court (Deptford), and of
Bickling. There were changes all round and Wolsey was blamed for all.
Still, it seems almost incredible that the Duke who wrote so gratefully
to the Cardinal in 1525 should be using in 1528 or earlier every art to
poison the King's mind against him. Suffolk had the reputation of being
grasping and avaricious, he never dropped a noble unless he took up a
royal for it, and his gratitude and his dislike were perhaps both rooted
in his pocket. The disaster of the divorce wrecked the frail ship of
Tudor court morality. All through the year's struggle with Wolsey
[1528-9] Suffolk sang treble to Norfolk's bass, and it was his
incorrigible courtier habits which tuned his voice so harmoniously to
Howard's, for the burden of their song was that the King's matrimonial
wishes were being secretly frustrated by Wolsey. The Dukes used Mistress
Anne, as she was generally called, as a lever to hoist their enemy out
of office, and when Suffolk was sent on an embassy to France to prevent
any _rapprochement_ between Francis and Charles V. which would have
heartened the Pope into refusing point blank a bull of divorce, the
report was that by his conversations he had put Wolsey out of favour
with the French King. Mary did not exile herself entirely from her
brother's Court, where his mistress ruled, and a bastard took precedence
of all nobles, and where her niece was disregarded, but one would like
to think that she did not second her husband in his hunting of the
Cardinal. However, there is no evidence one way or the other.

  [513] _Ibid._, iv. 3772.

Once the great man down, and the seals of office in the hands of
Norfolk, with Suffolk as his lieutenant, the heinousness of the
proceedings against Queen Katharine struck both Dukes, and they agreed
that "the time was come when all the world should strive to dismount the
King from his folly." Suffolk withstood Henry at least once to his face,
and he summed up the situation "in two words and said that the Queen was
ready to obey him [Henry] in all matters, but there were two that she
must first obey. The King, thinking he meant the Pope and your Majesty
[Charles V.], inquired immediately who these two were. He replied that
God was the first and her conscience the other, which she would not
destroy for him or for any other."[514] Henry turned away and made no
answer. The same writer, Chapuys, the Imperial Ambassador, said that
"Suffolk and his wife if they dared would offer all possible resistance
to this marriage," and in an age when the Archbishop of Canterbury
refused to give Queen Katharine advice because, he said, "_ira principis
mors est_," how can one blame the Suffolks for not daring? Mary was
beloved by the Londoners,[515] who were heart and soul for Katharine,
and her well-known sympathy with her sister-in-law and her niece is
attested by that ridiculous figure which appeared in Lincolnshire after
her death claiming to be the Princess Mary, and retailing conversations
with her aunt the French Queen.[516]

  [514] L. and P. H. VIII., v. 287.

  [515] _Ibid._, vi. 723.

  [516] _Ibid._, vi. 1193.

Mary's health had for long been far from good. This mysterious and
recurring disease in her side constantly demanded physicians, with which
the Court swarmed, for Henry was a great drug-master. In one letter
[undated] she implores the King's permission, to come up to consult his
physician, Master Peter, than whom no other in her opinion can give her
relief, and her husband seconds her request in a letter in which he says
she sits and weeps all day long, and is generally very ill as anyone can
see. But here again the searcher draws a blank. There is no information,
and one is suddenly confronted with a line in a letter of Chapuys' to
his master, "the Duchess of Suffolk, late Queen of France, is dead," and
he adds, touching the keynote to Mary's claim to publicity in her later
life, "by which the French King will gain 30,000 crowns a year of
dower." She died on Midsummer's Day, says Hall; on June 26, says the
Heralds' College, at Westhorpe in Suffolk.

Her funeral was deferred for nearly a month to allow time for the
representatives of France to be present, and finally took place at Bury
St Edmunds on Tuesday, July 21. The strange thing about it is that not
Mary's husband, nor her son the Earl of Lincoln, but her eldest
daughter, Lady Frances, was the chief mourner, followed by her second
daughter, Lady Eleanor, and, in fact, the cortège was chiefly made up of
ladies. The abbey was draped in black, and, after the coffin had been
lowered, the chief officers of her household brake their staves of
office, and, weeping, cast them into the grave, and the French herald
cried aloud, "Pray for the soul of the right high excellent princess and
right Christian Queen, Mary, late French Queen, and for all Christian
souls." Then they left her lying under the device which had blazed so
gloriously in Abbeville and in Paris,



I. Papers relating to the preparations for the marriage of Princess Mary
to the Prince of Castile at Calais in May 1514.

    i [Cotton MSS. Vitellius, xi. 150.]
        The margins are burnt.

For the transporting of Lady Mary, princesse of Castell.

First it may please the King's grace to name some honorable aged person
to be her chamberlayne for the tyme. And he to devise for thapparell of
her chamber and for officers of the same.

Item to Appoint some sadde personne to be tresourer of her chamber for
the tyme. And that he devise plate for her chamber, coubbord and Ewry.

[Sidenote: [ ]r Edmund.] Item to Appointe an almosyner and confessor
both in one persone, certayne chaplayns and a clerk of the closet. And
the same clerke to devise the ornaments and other stuffe necessarie for
her chapell.

  [Sidenote: [ ] Jernyngham.] Item to Appointe a master of her
    horse. And he to provyde palfrais, litters, Sadils, and Apparell
    for the said palfrais.

  [Sidenote: My lady of Oxford.] Item that it may please the qwenis
    grace to name some honorable personage to be her Lady Maistres.

Item to Appoint certayn other Ladies the whiche with thear attendaunce
gevyng uppon the said Ladie Maistres. And by her advise have the charge
to devise for thapparell of her person.

Item to Appoint other Ladies and Gentilwomen wherof some to Attende and
some to serve in the Chamber of the said princess and some to contynue
in her service in flaundres.

Wardrobe of Beds.

    ii [_Ibid._, 145.]
       The margins are burnt.

Hereafter ensuyth such stuff as is nede [burnt] be provided for my ladie
the princesse of [Castell] and aswell for her wardrop of beddes as [for]
her stable against the solempnization of her marriage.

The words enclosed and in italics have been substituted for others in a
hand which seems to be Wolsey's.

First her bedde chamber to be hanged with cloth of gold (_with a border
imbrodred with her bagies or any other devi[se]_).

  [Sidenote: All these pieces
    to be had out
    of the Kyngs
    wardrobe or in
    default therof
    in london [in
    hand?].] Item for the said chamber a large trussing bedde with
    colour tester and counterpoint of [the fine] cloth of golde,
    with Curtaynes of Damaske.
             Item a chayar of cloth of gold.
             Item iiij longe and large carpetts to cover the floure of
             the same chamber.
Item v cussions of cloth of golde (_1 rycher then the other_) iii long
and ii shorte.

Item smale carpetts for windowes, borde and cobords (v) at the lest (_of
velvet of cramosyne_) and as many carpetts of wolle for every day.

Item a fethyr bedde of fine doune with a bolster, ij pillows, (v) smale
pillowes for to take the say [_i.e._ for crossing the sea] and for every
of them iij pilowe beers off fyne holland cloth.

Item iiij pair of fyne shets and ij pair of fustians for the said
trussing bedde.

Item a palet bedde (of feddars) with bolster furnisshed with shets (iii
payr) fustians (ii payre) and counterpoint (ii) for the gentelwomen that
shall lie in the said chamber.

For the secound chamber.

  [Sidenote: [The]s must be
    provydyd [in]
    [ ] flemesse
    [ ] border.] First a riche story of Aras gold & silver (_of iiij
    yards depe_) with a border of her armys and bagies for a
    remembraunce (_of ij fote depe paid_ [?] _the flemysshe
    elne xv.s._).

    Item a large sparver of cloth of golde (_with the same
    storye grevyne in toto of cramosyn velvet pourpale, the velvet
    embrodred with her bagies and other devise_) with a counterpoint
    of the same, the curteyns of the same sparver to be
    of (_double [[sarsene]t?] pourpale with the colors that the cloth
    of golde and velvet hath_).

Item a Chaiar of cloth of golde for the same chamber with v cossions of
cloth of golde iij longe and ij shorte.

Item a fether bedde of fyne doune with a bolster and ij pillowes with
shetis, fustians and pillowebeers as is appointed for the trussing

Item a longe and large carpet for the borde (_under the fete_) and iiij
for wyndowes carpetts.

[_Item a traverse of cramosyn sarsenet._]

For the iijde Chamber.

First a hanginge of (_fyne tapessarye_) with bagies and armys [burnt] in
the border (_of vi flemysshe elnes in toto_).

Item a bedde of astate with a counterpoint of (_riche velvet and cloth
of golde of her colors purpale_).

Item a chaiar of cloth (_of cramosyne velvet embrodred_) and v cussions
of the same.

Item a large fedder bedde with a bolster for the said bedde of astate.

Item a large and a longe carpet and iiij smale carpetts for the said

Item ij cloths of astate the oon richer then the other of cloth of gold.

The iiijth Chamber.

First a story of good and fyne Tapettry for to hange the same chamber
with a border of her armys and bagies (_of vi elnes with the border [ ]
iiij ft._).

Item viii paillat (_1 fedder_) bedds, every of theym stuffed, with
bolster, fustians, counterpoint and iij pair of shets for every paillat.

Item a stole covered with crymsyne velvet, naylled with gilt naills and
a smale canape with curteyns of crymsyne double sarcenet to hange a
bowte the same stole.

Item a basyn for the said stole of silver.

Item ij or iij large carpetts and vij smale carpetts in store to serve
alwaies when nede is.

Item as many pieces of fyne border or tapicerie worke as will serve for
hanging of ij or iij chambers when she rides by the waye (_or ellys_ [or
else] _the same that she hath if it be thought holl and well colored and

Item a trussing bedde to carry with her by the waye with celor, testor
and counterpoint of velvet or of damaske purpale of her colors, with
bedd, bolster, pillowes, fustians, shets and other necessaries there

Item ij cofres for her juels.

Item iij cofres for her plate.

Item iij large cofres for the wardrobe for bedds, shetis and fustians.

Item iiij cloth sackes at the lest and cases for [the] trussing bedde.

For the Stables.

First a Riche litter of cloth of golde lyned with satan or Damaske with
iiij cussions of the same cloth of golde: with horse harness for the

Item a charriot for herre or her principall ladies covered with cloth of
golde with iiij cussions of the same; and the horse harnais in likewise.

Item ij other charriots for ladies or gentilwomen covered with crymsyne
velvet and for every charriot iiij cossions of the same. And the horse
harnais in like wise.

Item a large and a goodlie palfray to be ledde in hande with a sadill
and pillion covered with riche clothe of golde, the bordres richelie
Imbrodred orels [or else] of goldsmyth worke harnes of the same.

Item a nother goodlie palfray with a like riche side sadill for the said
Ladie princesse to Ride alone the harneis like.

Item viii other palfrais to folowe her with side sadils richelie covered
with cloth of gold orels Imbrodred upon velvet with harnes of the same.

Item iij or iiij fotemen with riche cots of goldsmyths worke to goo a
boute her litter or a boute her palfray.

Item a pase to lifte her uppon her palfray covered with silver plate
gilt as the qwene is grace is.

Item a chaunge for the said palfrais, that is to say aswell pilions,
sadils and harneis, and also coverings for the said litter and chariotts
to cover theym when it is foule wedder, and a change of harneis for
every of the horses of the said litter and Ladies chariotts.

Item a closed carre for her wardrobe of the robes and ij chariotts for
the wardrobe of the robes. ij Large cannavas and ij borehidis for the
said chariotts to save the stuf drie.

Item a bottell horse and sadell for her flagons.

Item a sompter horse for her trussing bedde.

Item a nother for her cofres.

Item a male horse.

Item a nother horse for the grome of the sta[ble].

Item the said palfrais to be provided for betymes and in likewise horsis
for the litter, the Ladies chariotts and for all other cariags before

ii For themperours logienge.

First his bed chamber to be hanged with cloth off golde and a trussing
bedde with testor and celor and counterpoint of riche cloth of golde,
the curteyns with damaske. With all other necessaries ther to belonging.

Item a chaier of cloth of golde and v cussions of the same for the said

Item for the borde, cubbourd and windowes carpetts of the same or of

Item iij fyne carpetts to lye on the flowre or a boute his bedde.

Item a pailot bedde furnisshed for theym that be in his chamber.

The secounde chamber.

First the secounde chamber to be hanged with riche Aras of golde and

Item a bedde with a sparver and counterpoint of cloth of golde, the
curteyns of double sarcenet.

Item a chaier of cloth of golde and cussions off the same for the said
chamber and window[es] a greate carpett for the floure and smale
carpet[ts] for the bourde, cubborde and windows of velvet or of wolle
and a cloth of astate of cloth of gold.

The iiide chamber.

The iiide chamber to be hanged with fyne tapestry with carpetts upon the
cubbord and windowes and cussions of velvet if nede be.

Item a chamber hanged and well dressed for his chamberlayne.

The Prince of Castill.

For the prince of Castill in like forme as the Emperour excepte the
prince to have the hall well hanged and appointed and also the chapell.

For my Lady Margarete Archeduchess of Austriche.

First her bedde chamber to be hanged with riche Aras. The seconde
chamber also. The iiide of fyne tapestry, a large trussing bedde of
cloth of gold, the curteyns of damaske: a chaiar of cloth of golde and
iij cussions of the same. Carpetts about her bedde of wolle and upon the
cubbords and windowes of velvet.

The secounde chamber.

In the secounde chamber a bedde with a sparver & counterpoint of cloth
of goulde & velvet purpale: curteyns of double sarcenet, with all that
belongeth thereto. A cloth of a state of cloth of goulde. A large carpet
in the floure. A chaier covered with crymsyn velvet and cussions of the
same for the said chaiar. Windowes carpetts for the bords and windowes
of velvet or of wollen.

Item a chamber to be hanged and dressed for her chamberlayne.

Item to have in store paillet bedds furnished for every chamber wher
beddes be, and v or vi besids them for every of the said logiengs of
themperour, prince and Archeduchesse.

The Kyngs logieng.

Item for the Kings lodegeing iiij chambers at the lest, to be hanged and
well appointed. And a chapell if nede be.

Themperour to be lodgied where the last deputie dwelled in Calais.

The prince in the staple house.

My Ladie Margaret Archeduches in the Tresourer's house.

The King's grace in the castell.

[_Ibid._, 145. The margins are burnt.]

iii My Lady the Princesse of Castell.

First a Cronell for her head of golde & stone in the day of her mariage.

Item a goodlie devise for her neke set with stone and perle.

Item a goodlie gurdill of golde of as goodlie facion as may bee devised.

Item ii braseletts of golde set with stone and perle.

  Item on the nexte day for her change a Riche
   Juell of golde with a cheyne of golde for her

  Item a goodlie gurdill of golde.

  Item a goodlie Crosse gilte poisaunt                    iiij{xx} unc.

  [Sidenote: To be provydyd
   in Flaundris.] Item vi Imags [_images_] gilte
    poisaunt                      lx oz.
   Item ii chalises gilte poisaunt both to gedders        iiij{xx} oz.
   Item ii goodlie candilstiks gilte
    poisaunt                                              cxx oz.
   Item iiij Cruetts gilte
    poisaunt all to gedders lx oz.
   Item ii Basens of her owne poisaunt to gedders         cxx oz.

  [Sidenote: To be newly
   made here.] Item a haliwaterstok gilte poisaunt        lvii oz.

  [Sidenote: To be new
    made here.] Item a boll of silver and gilte poisant   xii oz.

  Item ij goodlie Cuppes of golde the one
    garnyshyd with why[te] herts [?] the other with

  Item one other cup of gold with portculles
    and a rose on the top garnyshyd with gold             xxx oz.

  Item ij faire large potts well wrought either
    of theym weying cc oz.                                iiij{c} unc.

  Item ij goodlie flagons gilte well wrought
    either of theym weying cc oz.                         iiij{c} oz.

  [Sidenote: [of] hyr owne.] Item ij lesse potts
    gilte poisaunte                                       iij{c} unc.

  [Sidenote: hyr owne
    stuff.] Item ij potts of alesse sorte poisaunt        cxx oz.

  [Sidenote: Thre to be new
    [m]ade and
    thre of hyr owne and one with the
    [cover].] Item xij bollis with ij covers well
    wrought poisaunt                                      iiij{c} oz.
  Item a pair of flagons (of frenche plate)
    poisaunt                                              xl oz.

  [Sidenote: Of the King's
    owne.] Item ij standing Cuppes gilte poisaunt         iiij{xx} uncs.

  [Sidenote: To be new
    made.] Item iij Cuppes of Assey gilte poisaunt        l unc.

  [Sidenote: Of her owne.] Item a whyte potte for bere
     poisaunt                                             iiij{xx} unc.

  [Sidenote: to be made of
     newe.] Item a greate water potte                     cxx oz.

  [Sidenote: of hyr owne.] Item a spone of golde
    poisaunt                                              ij unc.

  [Sidenote: of hyr owne] Item ij goodlie salts of
    golde garnysshyd with one cover poisaunt              lx oz.

  [Sidenote: to be provydyd.] Item xij spones gilte
    poisaunt                                              xviij oz.

  [Sidenote: to be provydyd.] Item a pair of kerving
    knyves gilt

  [Sidenote: one of hyr
    owne and two
    to be provydyd.] Item iij salts without covers
    poisaunt                                              iiij{xx} oz.

  [Sidenote: of the Kyng's
    owne.] Item a pair of goodlie Basins gilte of a
    goodlie facion poisaunt                               iij{c} oz.

  [Sidenote: of the Kyng's
    owne stuff.
    of the frenche plate] Item iij Basins and iij Ewers
    poisaunt each Basin iiij{xx} oz. poisaunt each
    Ewer xl oz.                                           ijxl oz.

  [Sidenote: to be made] Item a greate Ewer for to warme
    water poisaunt                                        c oz.

  [Sidenote: to be bowgth
    of A. ys plate.]
               {Item v spice plats with two covers
               {gilte poisaunt                             v{c} oz.
               {Item xii pecs of spice plats parcell
               {gilte for powder, soketts and peris
               {poisaunt                                   ii{c} [burnt]
               {Item a ginger potte and a forke
               {poisaunt                                   xxx [burnt]

  [Sidenote: to be provydyd.] Item v candilstiks gilte
    of a goodlie facion poisaunt                           cc oz.

  [Sidenote: of her owne
    thre and ij to
    be provydyd.] Item v candilstiks parcell gilte
   poisaunt                                                viij{xx} oz.

  [Sidenote: to be provydyd.] {Item a weyving stole to be
                              {platted with silver.
                              {Item a little pirling
                              {Item a pair of billetts
                              {with a port a pynne and
                              {two mortues to the same.
                              {Item a faire coffer of
                              {silver to lay in her
                              {Item A Meror or glasse
                              {golde poisaunt             vi oz.

  [Sidenote: of the Kyng's
    owne plate.] Item a leyer for lie poisaunt            lx oz.

  [Sidenote: to be provydyd.] Item a lie casse gilte
    poisaunt                                              xx oz.

  [Sidenote: of the Kyng's
    owne.] {Item vi potts parcell gilte poisaunt a pece
           {l oz.                                         ccc oz.
           {Item xii bollis parcell gilte poisaunt        ccc oz.

  [Sidenote: to be provydyd.] Item an almessdisshe
    poisaunt                                              cc. oz.

  [Sidenote: to be provydyd.] Item a rownde Basyn for
    the Chamber poisaunt                                  xl oz.

  [Sidenote: of the Kyng's
    owne.] Item ij garnysshe of silver vessells
    poisaunt,                                             iij{l}
                                                              iij{l} oz.

  [Sidenote: of the frenche
    plate.] Item one chaffingdisshe poisaunt,             lx oz.

II. Inventory of the trousseau furnished for the Princess Mary on her
marriage with Louis xii. There are four manuscripts, two of which are

i. Transcripts: Foreign Countries: France vol. v. Public Record Office.


  (_a_) Archives du Royaume. Trésor des chartes. T. 650. 11.
    Inventaire des meubles de la chapelle Robbes et Vêtemens
    fournis par le Roi dAngleterre pour sa sœur Marie Femme de
    Louis xii.

    This has been collated with a fragment of the original copy given
    to the master of the English wardrobe. MSS Cotton. Vitellius xi.
    158, British Museum.

  (_b_) Archives du Royaume. Trésor des chartes. T. 650.11.
    Inventaire des chevaux haquenees et haubins, litiere et
    chariots, &c. fournis par le Roi dAngleterre pour sa sœur Marie
    Femme de Louis xii.

  (_a_) Cy apres sensuyvent les meubles de la chapelle habillemens
    qui sont robes coctes habillemens de teste manches et aussi litz
    cielz doucielz cote-pointes Linges cossins et autres utencilles
    pareillement tapisseries tapez veluz et autres choses le tout
    delivre et mis es mains du tres xtien Roy Loys de France xiie
    de ce nom. En la presence, de Messrs Thomas Bohier, Jacques de
    Beaune et Henry Bohier chevalliers et conseiller dv dit Seigneur
    Roy Loys de France et generaulx de ses finances par Mess. Andre
    de Windesore chevallier conseiller et maistre de la grant garde
    Robe du tres excellent et tres puissant prince Henry Roy
    dAngleterre et de France huit{me} de ce nom. Les dits meubles
    utencilles et autres choses donnees ordonnes et establyes par le
    dit Roy dAngleterre et de France a tres haulte et tres
    excellente princesse Madame Marie a present Royne de France sa
    sœur pour le service et usage de son corps et autres usaiges et
    services. Ce present inventaire fait en la ville dAbbeville le
    xj et xij jours doctobre lan mil cinq cens et quatorze. Du quel
    inventaire ont este faiz et arretez deux rolles lung signe par
    le maistre de la grant garde robe lequel doit demeurer es mains
    du dit Roy Loys de France et lautre inventaire signe par les
    dits generaulx doit demeurer es mains de dit Roy dAngleterre et
    de France et ont les dites Rolles este endentelez par le hault
    pour les adjointer et recognoistre quant besoign sera et que le
    cas les requerra pour lung & pour lautre des dits deux Roys.

    Et premierement pour la chapelle.

  [Sidenote: Tapisserie.] Tapisserie.
    Andrew de Wyndesore.       Andrew de Wyndesore.

  Premierement quatre pieces de tappisserie pour tendre la chapelle
  qui sont de Damas blancs et cramoisy chacune tappisserie de
  largeur de six damas doublez de bougran vert.

  [Sidenote: Travers
    ou Pavillon.] Item ung travers de taffetas et de sept longeurs de

  [Sidenote: Paremens
    dautel.] Item deux paremens dautel mespartez de damas blanc
    et damas cramoisy a fleurs dor de baudequyn [_riche drap
    de soie_: Godefroy].

  Autres deux paremens dautel pour le hault et pour le bas de drap
  dor tissu mespartez dont lun este figure de cramoisy et lautre de

  Item ung autre pour le hault et pour le bas de velours bleu et
  cramoisy mes partyz.

  [Sidenote: Convertures.] Item une converture dautel de drap imperial
    de baudequyn.

  [Sidenote: Messals.] Item ung messal.

  [Sidenote: Estuitz a corporaulx.] Item trois estuitz a corporeaulx
    et deux corporaulx de drap dor tissu sur cramoisy.

  [Sidenote: Chasubles.] Item une chasuble de drap dor tissu de
    pourpre avec la croix dicelle dorfroys borde de perles et
    autres choses complectes.

  Item une autre chasuble de drap daras bordee de velours bleu

  Item une autre chasuble de velours pourpre avec une croix de drap
  dor figure de blanc complecte.

  [Sidenote: Toailles dautel.] Item quatre toailles dautel dyapres

  Item une toaille pour nectoyer les mains.

  [Sidenote: Coissins et
    Carreaulx.] Item ung de drap dor bleu tyssu.

  Item ung autre de drap dor cramoisy tyssu.

  Item ung autre de drap de velours cramoisy.

  Item ung autre de drap de velours bleu.

  [Sidenote: Sensuyvent les
    robbes a la
    Francoise.] Item une robbe de velour couleur de pourpre doublee
    de drap dor jaune sur satin.

  Item une robbe de drap dor garnie de damas de baudequyn fourree

  Item une robbe de drap dargent a louvrage de damas doublee de
  velours cramoisy broche dor.

  Item une robbe de drap dor figure en sorte de damas fourree de

  Item une autre robbe de drap dor de damas cramoisy a louvrage
  dytalia [_d'Italie_] fourree de mynks.

  Item une robbe de drap dor tissu sur pourpre fourree de sables.

  Item une robbe de Satin cramoisy doublee de drap dor de damas sur

  Item une robbe de Satin cramoisy broche dor a facon et ouvrage de
  yeulx doyseaulx doublee de velours sur velours de pourpre et
  broche dor.

  Item une robbe de velours cramoisy doublee de drap dor de damas
  cramoisy en facon deschiquier.

  Item une robbe de velours noir doublee dermynes.

  Item une robbe de Satin pourpre doublee de drap dor de damas sur

  Item une robbe de Satin cramoisy broche dor de baudequyn fourree
  de Romaine [_sic_].

  Item une robbe de Satin gris broche dor en facon dyeulx doiseaulx
  double de velours cramoisy.

  Item une robbe de velours jaune doublee de Romaine.

  Item une robbe de velours jaune fourree de peaulx de conilz noirs.

  [Sidenote: Sensuyvent les
    cottes a la
    Francoise.] Item une cotte de satin gris broche dor a yeulx

  Item une cotte de drap dor sur pourpre a facon de camelot.

  Item une autre de Satin cramoisy.

  Item une autre cotte de drap dor blanc frise figure de blanc.

  Item une cotte de drap dargent de Venise de baudequyn.

  Item une cotte de Satin broche dor sur or couleur de vert et
  dyeulx doiseaulx.

  Item une cotte de drap dor de damas cramoisy de baudequyn.

  Item plus sept paires de manches sortables aux dites cottes.

  [Sidenote: Sensuyvent les
    robbes a la
    dAngleterre.] Item une robbe de satin Cramoisy bordee de drap
    dargent de damas doublee de taffetas noir.

  Item une robbe de Satin broche sur argent de baudequyn fourree de
  bougys [_lamb_].

  Item une robbe de Satin broche de cramoisy sur or a la nouvelle
  facon bordee de velours et doublee de taffetas noir.

  [Sidenote: La Royne la:
    la dite robbe
    a este veue.] Item un robbe de velours noir bordee de Satin noir
    doublee de taffetas noir.

  [Sidenote: La Royne la
    damee a
    Reding.] [Blank in original.]

  Item une robbe de velours noir doublee de martres.

  Item une robbe de velours noir bourdee de mynks et fourree de

  Item une robbe de velours jaune bordee de drap dor figure de blanc
  et doublee de taffetas.

  Item une robbe de drap dor figure a figures et tissue de blanc
  fourree dermynes.

  Item une robbe de Satin broche sur argent bordee dor et doublee de
  taffetas blanc.

  [Sidenote: Sensuyvent les
    cottes a la
    dAngleterre.]Item une cotte dargent en facon de camelot en borde
    de velours cramoisy.

  Item une cotte de Satin vert bordee de drap dor.

  Item une cotte de Satin noir tissu sur or bordee de velours

  [Sidenote: La Royne la:
    la dite cotte este
    veue sur
    son corps.] Item une cotte de satin cramoisy bordee de drap dor.

  Item une cotte de satin pourpre bordee de drap dor.

  Item une cotte de satin blanc bordee de velours cramoisy.

  [Sidenote: La Royne la:
    la dite cotte a
    este veue.] Item une cotte de satin jaune bordee de velours

  Item sept paires de manches sortables aux dites cottes.

  [Sidenote: Robbes a la
    facon de Millan.]Item une robbe de drap dargent a la sorte de damas
    de baudequyn embordee de drap dor doublee de taffetas

  Item une robbe de satin vert doublee de drap dargent de damas et
  bordee de drap dargent de damas.

  Item une robbe de drap dor a louvrage de camelot [_this seems to
  be woven or embroidered in circles or rondeaux_] doublee de
  velours vert et taffetas vert et bordee de satin cramoisy.

  [Sidenote: Bonnetz a la facon
    de Millan.] Troys bonnetz le premier de velours cramoisy, lautre
    de velours noir et lautre de satin cramoisy.

  [Sidenote: Esguillettes
    [_points_] pour
    les Robbes a la
    facon de Millan
    non ferres. Les
    tiennent aux
    robbes.]Item xxviii grandes esguilettes dor de Venise et xii

  Item xxviii esguillettes grandes faictes dor et soye cramoisye et
  xii petites.

  Item xxviii grandes esguillettes dor et soye verte et douze

  [Sidenote: Manteaulx et
    La Royne les a.] Item une manteau de scarlate, deux chapperons de
    velours noir, douze pieces appartenant aux chapperons.

  [Sidenote: Scabelles.
    Les dites choses
    ont este veues.] Une couverture de velours cramoisy une autre de

    Une custode [_curtain_] de taffetas vert.

  [Sidenote: Car & grans
    coffres.] Item ung car clos: deux grans estandars.

  [Sidenote: Lietz et conchettes
    et a contremens
    diceulx.] Item ung chapeau couvert de taffetas borde velours.

  Item deux couvertures de cuyr pour couvrir les dits cars.

  Item ung lit de camp avecques pommes dor et girouettes dessus.

  [Sidenote: La Royne en
    est servie.]

  [Sidenote: Les choses ont
    este veues en la
    dite chambre.] Item une dossiel, ciel et cotepoincte de drap dor
    sur vert & argent sur pourpre mispartez [_mespartir = to
    divide in equal pieces. John Palsgrave's French Grammar_]
    frange de soye de pourpre et cinq Rideaulx de damas

  [Sidenote: A la seconde
    chambre de la
    Royne.] Item ung autre lit de camp paint dor girouettes et
    pommes dor.

  Item ung dossiel, ung ciel une cotepoincte dor coite & taille dor
  mespartez de frange de soie verte et dor avecques cinq Rideaulx de
  vert et damas cramoisy.

  [Sidenote: A la chambre
    de la Royne.
    Les dites choses
    ont este veues
    comme dessus.] Item une custode et cotepoincte de drap dor coite
    [_stuffed with feathers and quilted_] & velours cramoisy
    emborde de Rouses [_roses_] & porcsespics [_porcupines_]
    et letres frange de soye verte et dor & ung Rideau de
    taffetas changeant.

  Item ung grand Lit destat contenant dossiel ciel cotepoincte de
  velours bleu emborde de Rouses Rouges franges de soie bleu & fil

  [Sidenote: Grande Tapisserie
    pour chambres
    six de dits
    pieces sont a la
    chambre de la Royne elles
    y ont este veues.] Item sept grans pieces de tapisserie de drap dor
    mespartez a frange de cramoisy & blanc & bordeures
    de velours cramoisy emborde avecques armes congnoissances
    et devises dont deux pieces sont de sept mesparties
    deux de six mesparties et troys de cinq.

  [Sidenote: Sept de dites
    pieces sont a lune
    des chambres de la
    dite Dame.
    Les pieces ont
    este veues en la
    dite chambre.] Item huit autres tapisseries de drap dor mespartez
    de velours cramoisy emborde de porcsespics & Roses couronnees
    avec bordeures de velours bleu emborde de fleurs de lis et armes
    dont deux pieces sont de huict mesparties deux de sept et quatre
    de six.

  Item six pieces de tappisserie riches daras [_d'Arras_].

  [Sidenote: Tapicerie
    simple.] Item sept pieces de tappisserie contenantes histoire de

  Item Treze pieces de tapicerie a figures de bergeres et bergiers.

    [Sidenote: Doucelez
    a la chambre
    de la Royne
    il a este veu
    en la dite
    chambre.] Item ung drap de tissu sur pourpre & cramoisy mespartez
    en troys.

  Item ung autre de drap dor sur blanc & cramoisy mespartez de

  [Sidenote: Rideaulx.] Item ung grand Rideau de taffetas cramoisy de
    huyt parties.

  [Sidenote: a la chambre
    de la Royne
    elles y ont este
    Chaires.] Item une chaire de drap dor tissue sur pourpre.

  Item une autre de drap dor sur blanc et frange de fil dor et de
  soye verte.

  [Sidenote: a la chambre
    de la Royne.] Item une autre chaire de drap dor sur cramoisy
    frange de fil dor et de soye cramoisy.

  [Sidenote: Coussins et
    Carreaulx.] Item quatre coussins de drap dor tissue.

  Item quatre de drap dor sur blanc deux longs et deux cours.

  [Sidenote: Les deux longs
    a la chambre
    de la Royne.
    Ils ont este
    veue en la dite
    chambre.] Item quatre coussins de velours, deux longs et deux

  [Sidenote: Linceaulx
    & Couvertures
    doreilliers.] Item xxij paires de linceaulx [_sheets_] de deux
    pieces et demye toille a troys verges dAngleterre de long.

  Item xxvj paires de lincaulx de troys toilles a troys verges et
  troys quartiers de long.

  [Sidenote: Il y en a sept
    en la chambre
    de la Royne.
    On les a veus.] Item sept paires de troys toilles a quatre
    aulnes de long.

  Item neuf paires de troys toilles.

  Item deux paires de quatre toilles.

  [Sidenote: En a chambre
    de la Royne
    quatre. On a
    veu les dite
    quatre en la
    chambre de
    la Royne.] Item xxx couvertures doreiliers.

  [Sidenote: Litz de duvet
    le lit est dans
    la chambre de
    la Royne et le
    traversin est en
    la dite chambre
    Orielliers et
    Traversins.] Item une lit de duvet avecques le traversin et la
    coite [_quilt_] fustaine.

  Item deux couvertures de fustain pour le dit lit & traversin en
  longueur deux aulnes et trois quartiers et deux aulnes et demy de

  Item ung autre lit de duvet de huyt cartiers avecques une coyty de
  bresel [_red stuff_] & traversin.

  Item ung autre lit de duvet de huyt cartiers avecques une coity de
  bresel & traversin.

  [Sidenote: Deux en la
    chambre de la
    Royne. Ils
    ont este veus.] Item xxvi oreilliers de duvet couvers de

  [Sidenote: Litz de plumes.] Item ung grant lit destat de douze
    quartiers avecques ung coity de bresel.

  [Sidenote: Deux en la
    chambre de la
    Royne qui ont
    este veus.] Item quatre litz de dix quartiers coitez de bresel &

  Item quatres autres litz de huyt quartiers coitez de gaud [_yellow
  stuff_] & traversins.

  Item deux litz de xij cartiers coitez de bresel & traversins.

  [Sidenote: Matellatz
    en la chambre
    de la Royne:
    ont este veus.] Item deux matellatz delayne couvert de bougran
    bleu [_buckram, but finer than the modern stuff_].

  [Sidenote: Manteaulx
    d'Irlande.] Item deux manteaulx lung de cramoisy lautre de

  [Sidenote: Frese, lun en
    la chambre
    de la Royne
    on les a veues
    dans la dite
    chambre.] Item deux frises lun de cramoisy lautre de bleu.

  Item une couverture de lit de scarlate et de bleu de dix aulnes et
  demy de longueur et largeur de deux lez. [_nearly_.]

  [Sidenote: Fustaines.
    en la chambre
    de la Royne
    troys. veus en
    la dite
    chambre.] Item onze paires de quatre litz.

  Item une paire de cinq litz.

  [Sidenote: Cotepoinctes.] Item quatre cotepoinctes de bordure de
     xx aulnes flamandes piece.

  Item deux autres de bordure de xx aulnes flamandes piece.

  [Sidenote: deux en la
    chambre de la
    Royne: elles
    y ont este
    veues.] Item deux pieces de bordures fines de xxv aulnes

  Item ung autre piece de bordure de xl aulnes flamandes.

  Ung autre piece de bordure de [     ] flamandes.

  Item deux pieces de bordure de xxx aulnes flamandes.

  Deux grans tapiz veluz de longueur de huict aulnes on environ et
  de largeur iij quartiers ii aulnes (_sic_).

  [Sidenote: Tapiz Veluz.] Ung autre tapiz de quatre aulnes ou environ
    a roues.

  Item ung autre de sept aulnes en longueur et de largeur ii aulnes
  et 1 quartier.

  Ung autre de quatre aulnes et demye en longueur et deux en

  Ung autre de troye aulnes et trois quartiers en longueur et ij
  aulnes & ung quartier en largeur.

  Ung autre de quatre aulnes en longueur et ung quartier, & deux en
  largeur et un quartier.

  Ung autre de quatre aulnes en longueur et deux aulnes en largeur.

  Ung autre de troys aulnes et troys quartiers en longueur et une
  aulne troys quartiers en largeur.

  Ung autre cinq aulnes & ung quartier en longueur et ij aulnes & 1
  quartier en largeur.

  Ung autre deux aulnes troys quartiers en longueur et une aulne et
  demye de largeur.

  Item xxij pety tapiz dune mesure de deux aulnes de longueur et une
  aulne & demye de largeur.

  [Sidenote: en la chambre
    de la Royne
    doit avoir huit
    tant grans que
    moyens et cinq
    petys qui ont
    este veus.] Somme de tapiz xxxiij grans et petys _cestassavoir_
    [c'est à savoir] onze tant grans que moyens et xxij petys.

  [Sidenote: Cordes.] Item xx Liure de corde Ronde et plate.

  [Sidenote: Canevatz.] Item Canevatz pour metre dedans les charriotz
    de la Royne qui sont quatre de cinq aulnes de long et quatre
    lezes de largeur.

  Item huyt estuytz de canevatz pour metre les litz de la Royne et a
  chacune dix aulnes.

  [Sidenote: Crochetz pour
    tapisseries.] Item ung mile grans crochetz & quatre mil de pety.

  Item deux marteaulx.

  Item deux grans canevatz pour envelopper toute la tappiserie en la
  garde robbe.

  Item troys grans estuytz de cuyr pour metre lesz tapisseries.

  Item quatre grans cuirs pour couvrir charriotz.

  Item deux autres grans estuytz de cuirs pour metre litz.

  Item troys estuytz pour chaires.

  Item deux grans coffres.

  Fait et signe en la ville dabbeville par moi maistre de la grant
  garde Robe cy dessus nomme le xiij jour doctobre lan mil iiiij
  cens quatorze.

    _Signé_, Andrew de Wyndesore.

(_b_) Inventaire des acoustremens de drap dor velour Cramoisy et autres
Draps aportez dAngleterre a la venue de la Royne pour le service de la
dite Dame tant a sa lictiere chevaulx de portement aubins et hacqunees
Couvertures de chariotz et accoustremens de chevaulx qui servent [?]
a les mener ainsi quil sensuit et premierement.

Le drap et acoutrement du cheval de portement fait a broderie dun drap
dor tres riche.


Plus xii selles de drap dor faictes a broderie pour servire a xii aubins
avec tous harnois completz de semblable drap et pareur [_parure_].

Item xii autres selles semblablement de drap dor pour servire comme
desous avec douze harnois completz de semblable drap et pareur.

Item plus une xiie autres selles de velours cramoisy pour servire comme
les precedents avec les harnois completz de semblable drap et pareur.

    Chariotz et Lictiere.

Une belle lictiere couverte de drap dor a fleurs de lis de broderie que
deux grans chevaulx portent acoustrez tant de selles que harnois y
servant tout completz couvert de semblable drap et dedans la lictiere y
a quatre grans carreaulx couvert de pareil drap dor et sur le dehors est
icelle lictiere couverte dung drap descarlate dAngleterre.

Plus ung beau chariot branlant couvert de drap dor frize a frange dor
tout le tour du dit chariot et dedans quatre grans carreaulx couverte de
mesme drap et y a une couverte descarlate pour metre sur le dehors du
dit chariot.

Pour mener lequel chariot y a lacoustrement complet de six chevaulx dont
les troys ont selles. Le tout couvert de semblable drap dor et pareur.

Item y a ung autre beau chariot couvert de drap dor a fleurs de litz de
broderie frange de franges dor tout le tour et dedans y a quatre
carreaulx couvers de semblable drap avec une couverture descarlate pour
le dehors comme au precedant.

Pour mener lequel chariot y sont autres six acoustremens de chevaulx
dont le trois ont pareillement selles le tout couvert de semblable drap
et pareur.

Item plus y a ung autre chariot couvert de velours camoisy frange tout
le tour de frange dor et dedans quatre carreaulx de semblable velours
cramoisy couvert. il n'y a pour le dehor qune toille cirée pour le

Pour conduire lequel chariot y a lacoustrement de six autres chevaulx
tout complet dont les trois ont selles tous couvers du mesme velours
cramoisy et semblable pareur.

Fait a Abbeville le douziesme jour doctobre lan mil cinq cens quatorze.

    _Signé_, Filleul.


Plus y a dix sept hacquenees pour le service de la dite dame toutes
couvertes de couvertures dont les quinze sont toutes blanches et deux de
gris plus [?] salle [?] les quelles ont este amenee dAngleterre.

Item y a ung sommier de pareil poil que lescuier de la dite dame dit
estre pour porter quelques acoustremens pour laffaires de lescuirie.

Item plus y a dix huit jeunes chevaulx que grans que petiz pour servir a
mener les trois chariotz branlans.

Item six autres jeunes chevaulx qui sont ordonnez a mener le chariot
couvert de la garde Robbe de la dite dame.

Item plus en y a treize qui sont pour servir a deux autres chariotz de
garnisons et offices tant a la tapisserie que ailleurs ou on les voudra
employer tous lesquelz chevaulx ne sont fort bien enharnachez pour le
present et en deffault quelques pieces.

Item plus y a deux grans beaulx et jeunes chevaulx qui sont ordonnez a
porter la lictiere dicelle dame.

Fait comme dessous a Abbeville le xij jour doctobre lan cinq cens et

    _Signé_, Filleul.

ii. Two documents in English. Letters & Papers Henry viii., vol. i., No.

_a._ List of the gownes devised for the Princess Mary being the same in
English as already given in the more complete French document. At the
end comes the following in a fragmentary fashion.

    Jaketts for her fotemen.

Furst iij Jaketts of white cloth of golde guilted with scales and
crymosyn velvet paled with cloth of golde te be Inbrodred with a
porcapin and a Rose.

    Jaketts for the secounde sorte.

Item iij Jaketts of Tawny cloth of golde of damaske & blew velvet to be
Inbrodred with the fleurs de lyee & a Rose.

    Jaketts for the iij sorte.

Item iij Jaketts of grene velvet to be Inbrodred with Roses of a colour
and the sun.

    For the closet.

A gown of crymesyn cloth of golde of Damaske with a border of black
velvet Inbrodred to be made a Vestment & the border of the same to
serve to the same Vestment takyng certayn lettres owt of the same.

Item a riche awtar (altar) cloth of crymesyn and purpull cloth of goolde

Item a nother awtar cloth of cloth of bawdekyne.

Item a nother of crymesyn and bleue velvet.

Item cusshons of white cloth of golde of damaske.

Item a cusshon of bleue velvet with fleurs of golde wrought in one.

    Yet for the closet.

Item a remanent of crymesyn cloth of golde of tissewe to make a cushon &
ij corpvs cases.

_b. Endorsed_, Amadas bill. [_Robert Amadas was the King's goldsmith._]
_Headed._ Parcells dellyveryd unto the Frenche quenys us as followth.

[_omiting weights, prices & moneys paid for making._]

Item a grete seall of sylver gravyn with the devices of England and the
devices of Fraunce.

Item a nother seall of provune golde.

Item for a devyce of provune gollde with iiij Roses.

Item a nother device of provune gollde with perills & dyamonds.

Item a Braselet of provune gollde with perylls.

Item a nother Braselet of provune gollde with Rubys and Rosis.

Item for Settynge of ix Rubys in provune gollde.

Item an M of provune gollde with a grette Ballas & a Dyamond.

Item 1. Bedstonys [_Beadstones_] of fyne gollde enamellyd with Blake.

Item 1. paire of augulletts of provune gollde.

Item the v. oz. wayght of provune gollde that was put to the Frensch
quenis Bawdrike.

Item for iij chaynnis of fyne gollde.

Item Dellyveryd in fyne gollde for the garnyshynge of the French quenes

Item Dellyveryd more in fyne gollde for frontylletts.

Item Dellyveryd in Sylver for the garnyshynge of iiij Carvynge Knyvys.

Item for makynge & gylldynge of the every [knife].

Item payd to the Butler for gravynge of the sayd knyvis & gylldyng of
the bladys.

Item for makyng of a Case to the Kyngs collar of the Garter.

Item for New of a gyllte potte to a mache _[match_] that master Cumton
[_Compton_] hathe in hys ckepynge [_sic_] wayning more then the olld
potte be ii. oz.

Item Dellyveryd to Harre holltesweler [_Henry Holtesweller, the King's
Flemish goldsmith_] for a device or a Bawdryke iiij Rossys sette with
Dyamonds, Rubys and perylls & v Rvbys sette in colletts (?) iij of Them
with pances and ij with owte and ix perylls mouche of a sette for the

Item Dellyveryd to hym a dobyll sett with a fayre poyntted Dyamonde and
a fayre large tabulle Balles with a fayre large peryll.

Item Dellyveryd to hym a brassellet to a mend.

Item Dellyveryd to hym ij treangle dyamonds, a tabulle dyamonde and a
dyamonde callyd a dak [?] and a fayre Rounde peryll and iiij table
dyamonds and a fayre lozenged dyamonde takyn owte of the Crosse. And ix
fayre perylls of the bawdryke to make a device for her neyke as is

Item perylls & vi Rubys all oryentt takyn owte of the M and xii perylls
takyn owte of the K to sette in a brasselett. And vi Rossys of Rubys and
viiij smalle perylls for a nother Brasselet that were in a smalle casket
of Spaynyshe worke.

Item Dellyveryd to him ix fayre Rubys sett in colletts to Sett in propyr

Item Dellyveryd to him in brokyn gollde of the Bawdrykys and other pecys
of chens, casketts (?) and other smalle pecys of brokyn gollde.



    Abbeville, 103, 112, 116

    Abingdon, 232

    Albany, Duke of, 105, 113, 205, 221

    Angoulême, Claude Duchess of (_see_ Claude of France)

    Angoulême, Francis Duke of (_see_ Francis I. of France)

    Anne of Brittany, Queen of France, 41, 73, 107

    Arthur, Prince of Wales, 9, 12, 13


    Badoer, Andreas, Venetian ambassador, 97, 99

    Bannister, Sir Humphrey, 223

    Barking, Manor of, 214, 215, 216

    Barnes, Jean, 110, 128

    Berghes, Count de, 19-21, 37, 46, 60, 66

    Blount, Bessie, 74, 234, 245

    Bohier, Thomas, General of Normandy, 94, 96, 103, 104

    Boleyn, Anne, 110, 128, 231, 245, 249
      ----  Lady, 231
      ----  Sir Thomas, 37

    Boulogne, 50, 111, 130

    Brandon, Anne, 70, 83, 220
      ----   Charles, 12, 100
      ---- ---- Lord Lisle, 49, 59, 63, 64
      ---- ---- Courts Margaret of Savoy, 61-71, 77-90
      ---- ---- Duke of Suffolk, 76, 88, 96, 126, 130-144, 153, 156,
                  158, 168, 187, 189, 206, 208, 219, 222, 223, 224,
                  232, 234, 242, 243, 248, 249
      ---- ---- Debts, 222, 226, 230, 231
      ---- ---- Letters from, 161, 162, 164, 167, 181, 187, 190, 197,
                  198, 200, 210, 226, 228, 233, 236, 248
      ---- ---- Letters to, 168, 184, 191
      ----   Lady Eleanor, 237, 251
      ----   Lady Frances, 231, 251
      ----   Lord Henry, 223
      ---- ---- Earl of Lincoln, 245, 251

    Brégilles, Philippe de, 65, 78, 82, 83

    Bresse, Governor of, 19, 37

    Bridget of York, Lady, 4, 11

    Brown, John, King's painter, 288

    Browne, Anne, 12, 100, 101, 245

    Brussels, 84, 90

    Buckingham, Duke of, 99, 242

    Bury St Edmunds, 251


    Calais, 48, 50, 51, 87, 214

    Cambrai, League of, 17

    Camp at Therouenne, 53-55

    Carew, Anne, 74, 234
     ----  Sir Nicholas, 74, 235

    Carroz, Luis, Spanish Ambassador in England, 28, 43

    Catherine, Princess, 14

    Cavalcanti, bankers, 103, 222

    Charles of Castile, 14, 16, 18, 41, 62, 69, 85, 86, 89, 90, 91,
                 96, 151, 174
      ---- ---- Letter from, 21
      ---- ---- Emperor of Germany, 235, 237, 241, 249, 250

    Chièvres, Count, 77, 78, 81, 89, 174

    Claude of France--
      Duchess of Angoulême, 107, 117
      Queen of France, 190, 240, 241

    Clugny Palace, 148, 171, 208

    Compton, Sir William, 150, 224

    Courtney, Lady Katharine Countess of Devon, 4, 11, 224

    Crowmer, Anne, 8


    Dacres, Lord, 223

    Denton, Dr, 110, 128, 246
      ----  Elizabeth, 8

    Donyngton Manor, 224, 225

    Dorset, Marquis of, 119, 139, 141, 143

    Du Wys, Giles, 24

    Dunkirk, 48

    Durham House, Strand, 234


    Edmund, Prince, 8

    Elizabeth of York, Queen of England, 4-6, 10, 13

    Eltham Palace, 4, 8, 11, 153, 192

    Erasmus, 4


    Fenes, Mary, 110, 128

    Ferdinand, King of Aragon, 15, 17; chapter ii. _passim_; 79
     ----  of Austria, 34, 79

    Field of Cloth of Gold, 238-241

    Flodden, 63

    Fox, Bishop of Winchester, 49, 50, 66, 69, 96

    Francis I. of France--
     Duke of Angoulême, 50, 105, 107, 112-118, 127-128, 129, 132, 140,
     ----  King, chapter viii. _passim_; 231, 240, 241, 246, 249

    Frescobaldi, bankers, 40, 222


    Gordon, Lady Katharine, 11

    Greenwich, 11, 97, 184, 215, 230

    Grey, Lady Anne, 228
     ---- Lady Elizabeth, 110, 128, 231
     ---- Lady Jane, 11

    Gueldres, Duke of, 31, 32, 33, 35, 38, 46

    Guiche, Peter de la, 165, 180

    Guienne, 37, 39, 47

    Guildford, Sir Harry, 62, 234
     ---- Lady Joan, 11, 74, 110, 122-127, 230

    Guingate, 57, 59, 60


    Henry VII. of England, 6-8; chapter i. _passim_
     ---- VIII., 4; chapter ii. _passim_; 50; chapter iii. _passim_;
            94, 98, 99, 183, 194, 203, 224, 232, 234, 240, 241
     ---- Duke of York, 8, 13, 14
     ---- Letters to, 122, 151, 161, 162, 164, 165, 167, 181, 189,
            197, 198, 200, 210, 211, 224, 226

    Holy League, the, 43

    Howard, Lord, Admiral, 49
      ---- Admiral, 44


    Ipswich College, 248

    Isabeau, Archduchess of Austria, 33


    James IV. of Scotland, 12, 13, 32, 64

    Jerningham, Mistress, 110, 227, 228, 229

    Joanna of Castile, 15, 17, 26

      At Tournay, 69
      At Lille, 70
      At Paris, 139-143
      At Greenwich, 230
      At Guisnes: Field of Cloth of Gold, 239-240

    Julius II., 29, 30, 32


    Katharine of Aragon, 8, 12, 14, 15, 25, 63, 64, 94, 98, 222, 225,
      228, 230, 231, 235, 238, 240, 241, 249, 250


    Langley, Father, 150, 194, 195

    Leo X., 93

    Letheringham Castle, 226

    Ligny, Count, 43, 44, 87

    Likerke, Mdlle. de, 73, 85, 86

    Lille, 60, 61, 63, 64, 69

    Lisle, Lady, 82, 84

    London, 30, 41, 49, 96, 97, 180, 206, 234

    Longueville, Duke de, 57, 89; chapter v. _passim_; 129, 155
     ---- ---- Letters from, 103, 104

    Louis XII. of France, chapter ii. _passim_; 106-7; chapter v.
               _passim_; 120, 122, 131, 145, 146
     ---- ---- Letter from, 104
     ---- ---- Letters to, 105-6, 125

    Louise de Savoie, 14, 108, 133, 190, 204, 222, 235, 246


    Malines, 31, 42, 43, 66, 87

    Margaret, Countess of Richmond, 5, 6, 74

    Margaret Tudor, Queen of Scots, 3, 13, 76, 95, 225

    Marigny, 102, 112

      Arthur of Wales to Katharine of Aragon, 12
      Brandon,  Charles, to Anne Browne, 100
      ---- ---- to Lady Mortimer, 100
      ---- ---- to Lady Lisle, 82
      ---- ---- to Margaret of Savoy, 67, 76-88
      ---- ---- to Mary Tudor, Queen of France, 159, 168, 186-199,
                  204, 215
      Henry VII. to Margaret of Savoy, 16, 17.
      ---- to Joanna of Castile, 17
      Henry VIII. to Katharine of Aragon, 25
      Margaret Tudor to James IV., 13
      Margaret of Savoy to Brandon, 67, 76-88
      Mary Tudor to Charles of Castile, 14, 16, 18, 60; chapter iv.
      ---- ----  to Louis XII., chapter v. _passim_
      ---- ----  to the Duke of Savoy, 151, 152
      ---- ----  to the Duke of Lorraine, 151, 160
      ---- ----  to Charles Brandon, 159, 168, 186-199, 204, 205

    Mary Tudor, daughter of Henry VII., 2, 3, 9, 10, 12, 15, 16, 18,
                  19-22, 24, 60, 72, 73-76, 85, 89, 96, 100, 102-103,
                  109-110, 112; chapter v. _passim_; 134, 135, 144,
                  148, 151, 160, 168, 171, 174, 180, 183, 204, 215,
                  223, 230, 232, 234, 235, 237, 238, 240, 241, 245,
                  250, 251
      ---- ---- Dowry, 23, 96; chapter ix. _passim_; chapter x.
                _passim_; 226, 230, 231, 243, 245, 246, 247
      ---- ---- Illnesses, 76, 233, 235, 250
      ---- ---- Ladies, 109-110, 128
      ---- ---- Letters from, 104-105, 105-106, 122-123, 151, 154,
                  162, 165, 188, 195, 196, 200, 211, 224, 247
      ---- ---- Letters to, 103, 104, 149
      ---- ---- Trousseaux, 76, 102-103

    Mary Tudor, daughter of Henry VIII., 223, 224, 231, 233, 235

    Maximilian of Austria, the Emperor, 16; chapter ii. _passim_;
      52, 55-65, 91, 174

    Memo, Dionysius, 230, 232

    Mirror of Naples, the, 109, 188, 190, 203, 207, 209, 220

    Mortimer, Lady Margaret, 100, 244, 245

    Mountjoy, Lord, 4, 49, 177


    Nassau, Count, 78, 81

    Norfolk, Duke of, 96, 110, 119, 123, 130, 150, 242, 248, 249


    Pace, Sir Richard, 232

    Padua, 28, 29

    Palgrave, John, 24, 110, 138

    Paris, Jehan de, 101

    Paris, 25, 30, 60, 94, 105, 129, 135-138, 139, 145, 158, 189, 246

    Pavia, 246

    Philip of Burgundy, 14, 15, 17, 26, 89

    Piennes, Sieur de, 50, 53

    Pole, Edmund de la, 35
     ---- Richard de la, 35

    Ponynges, Sir Edward, 34, 37, 39

    Popenruyter, Hans, 31

    Popincourt, Jane, 10, 18, 74, 110

    Préjan, the French admiral, 44, 87


    Quintana, Pedro de, 79


    Ravenstein, Lord, 61, 62

    Renée of France, 34, 41, 107

    Richmond, 11, 18, 19
      ---- Duke of, 74, 245

    Robertet, Treasurer of France, 105, 108, 120

    Ross Herald, 56


    San Severino, G. de, 113, 118

    Sandwich, 48, 50

    Saragossa, Archbishop of, 33

    Savoy, Margaret Duchess of, 16, 17; chapter ii. _passim_; 29, 31,
      61-71, 72, 76, 77-90, 93, 173, 174, 219, 241

    Selva, John de, President of Normandy, 98, 180

    Shrewsbury, Earl of, 48, 58, 59, 226, 230

    Sidney, Sir William, 70, 82, 204, 211, 215, 217, 218

    Skeron, Anne, 2

    Southampton, 48

    Southwark, the Duke of Suffolk's house at, 235, 244

    Spinelly, Thomas, 84, 173

    Stile, John, 26, 30, 41, 42

    Stuart, Queen Mary, 11


    Talbot, Sir Gilbert, 40

    Therouenne, 50, 53, 56, 58, 65, 95

    Tournay, 62, 64, 69, 83, 94, 155, 174-199 _passim_

    Tournelles, Hôtel des, 105, 137, 139, 148

      Cambrai, 18
      London, 96, 97, 180, 206
      Spanish, 12
      Tournay, 70


    Venetian Ambassador, 77, 97, 117, 208

    Venetians, the, chapter ii. _passim_

    Verney, Sir Rauf, 11, 96


    Wanstead Manor, 96

    Wardrobe, the Great, 9

    West, Dr Nicholas, 153, 208, 209

    Westhorpe, 244, 251

    Windsor Castle, 11, 15

    Wingfield, Sir Humphrey, 232, 245
      ---- Sir Richard, 85-88, 153, 220
      ---- Sir Robert, 32, 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 79, 88

    Wolsey, Thomas, King's Almoner, Bishop of Lincoln, Archbishop of
              York, Cardinal, 40, 49, 60, 66, 69, 89, 94, 96, 99, 149,
              164, 222, 224, 248, 249
      ---- Letters from, 125, 168, 185, 191
      ---- Letters to, 104, 123, 154, 162, 182, 187, 190, 196, 228,
           233, 236, 247, 248

    Woodstock Manor, 232

    Worcester, the Earl of, 96, 105, 127
      ---- ---- Letter from, 108







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