1542-1547
KATHARINE PARR--THE PROTESTANTS WIN THE LAST TRICK
The disappearance of Katharine Howard and the temporary eclipse of Norfolk
caused no check to the progress of the Catholic cause in England. When
Gardiner was with the Emperor in the summer of 1541 he had been able to
make in Henry's name an agreement by which neither monarch should treat
anything to the other's disadvantage for the next ten months; and as war
loomed nearer between Charles and Francis, the chances of a more durable
and binding treaty being made between the former and Henry improved. When
Gardiner had hinted at it in Germany, both Charles and Granvelle had
suggested that the submission of Henry to the Pope would be a necessary
preliminary. But the Emperor's brother, Ferdinand, was in close grips with
the Turk in Hungary, and getting the worst of it; Francis was again in
negotiation with the infidel, and French intrigue in Italy was busy. Henry
therefore found that the Emperor's tone softened considerably on the
report of Chapuys' conversation at Windsor in February, whilst the English
terms became stiffer, as Francis endeavoured to turn his feigned
negotiations with Henry into real ones. The whole policy of Henry at the
period was really to effect an armed league with the Emperor, by means of
which France might be humiliated, perhaps dismembered, whilst Henry was
welcomed back with open arms by the great Catholic power, in spite of his
contumacy, and the hegemony of England established over Scotland. In order
the better to incline Charles to essential concessions, it was good policy
for Henry to give several more turns of the screw upon his own subjects,
to prove to his future ally how devout a Catholic he was, and how entirely
Cromwell's later action was being reversed.
The great Bibles were withdrawn from the churches, the dissemination of
the Scriptures restricted, and the Six Articles were enforced more
severely than ever;[230] but yet when, after some months of fencing and
waiting, Chapuys came to somewhat closer quarters with the English
Council, he still talked, though with bated breath now, about Henry's
submission to the Pope and the legitimation of the Princess Mary. But the
Emperor's growing need for support gradually broke down the wall of
reserve that Henry's defection from Rome had raised, and Gardiner and
Chapuys, during the spring of 1542, were in almost daily confabulation in
a quiet house in the fields at Stepney.[231] In June the imperial
ambassador made a hasty visit to Flanders to submit the English terms for
an alliance to the Queen Regent. Henry's conditions in appearance were
hard, for by going to war with France he would, he said, lose the great
yearly tribute he received from that country; but Charles and his sister
knew how to manage him, and were not troubled with scruples as to keeping
promises. So, to begin with, the commercial question that had so long been
rankling, was now rapidly settled, and the relations daily grew more
cordial. Henry had agents in Germany and Flanders ordering munitions of
war and making secret compacts with mercenary captains; he was actively
reinforcing his own garrisons and castles, organising a fine fleet,
collecting vast fresh sums of money from his groaning subjects, and in
every way preparing himself to be an ally worth purchase by the Emperor at
a high price.
In July 1542 the French simultaneously attacked the imperial territory in
four distinct directions; and Henry summoned the ambassadors of Charles
and Francis to Windsor to tell them that, as war was so near him, he must
raise men for his defence, especially towards Scotland, but meant no
menace to either of the Continental powers. Chapuys had already been
assured that the comedy was only to blind the French, and cheerfully
acquiesced, but the Frenchmen took a more gloomy view and knew it meant
war. With Scotland and Henry it was a case of the lamb and the wolf. Henry
knew that he dared not send his army across the Channel to attack France
without first crushing his northern neighbour. The pretended negotiations
with, and allegations against, the unfortunate Stuart were never sincere.
James was surrounded by traitors: for English money and religious rancour
had profoundly divided the Scottish gentry; Cardinal Beaton, the Scots
King's principal minister, was hated; the powerful Douglas family were
disaffected and in English pay; and the forces with which James V. rashly
attempted to raid the English marches in reprisal for Henry's unprovoked
attacks upon him were wild and undisciplined. The battle of Solway Moss
(November 1542) was a disgraceful rout for the Scots, and James,
heart-broken, fled from the ruin of his cause to Tantallon and Edinburgh,
and thence to Falkland to die. Then, with Scotland rent in twain, with a
new-born baby for a Queen, and a foreign woman as regent, Henry could face
a war with France by the side of the Emperor, with assurance of safety on
his northern border, especially if he could force upon the rulers of
Scotland a marriage between his only son and the infant Mary Stuart, as he
intended to do.
[Illustration: _KATHARINE PARR_
_From a painting in the collection of the_ EARL OF ASHBURNHAM]
There was infinite haggling with Chapuys with regard to the style to be
given to Henry in the secret treaty, even after the heads of the treaty
itself had been agreed upon. He must be called sovereign head of the
English Church, said Gardiner, or there would be no alliance with the
Emperor at all, and the difficulty was only overcome by varying the style
in the two copies of the document, that signed by Chapuys bearing the
style of; "King of England, France, and Ireland, etc.," and that signed by
the English ministers adding the King's ecclesiastical claims. If the
territories of either monarch were invaded the other was bound to come to
his aid. The French King was to be summoned to forbear intelligence with
the Turk, to satisfy the demands of the Emperor and the King of England in
the many old claims they had against him, and no peace was to be made with
France by either ally, unless the other's claims were satisfied. The
claims of Henry included the town and county of Boulogne, with Montreuil
and Therouenne, his arrears of pension, and assurance of future payment:
and the two allies agreed within two years to invade France together, each
with 20,000 foot and 5000 horse.[232] This secret compact was signed on
the 11th February 1543; and the diplomatic relations with France were at
once broken off. At last the repudiation of Katharine of Aragon was
condoned, and Henry was once more the Emperor's "good brother";--a fit
ally for the Catholic king, the champion of orthodox Christianity. As if
to put the finishing touch upon Henry's victory, Charles held an interview
with the Pope in June 1543 on his way through Italy, and succeeded in
persuading him that the inclusion of the King who defied the Church in the
league of militant Catholics was a fit complement to the alliance of
France and enemies of all Christianity; and would secure the triumph of
the Papacy and the return of England into the fold.
Whilst the preparations for war thus went busily forward on all sides,
with Chantonnay in England and Thomas Seymour in Germany and Flanders
arranging military details of arms, levies, and stores, and the Emperor
already clamouring constantly for prompt English subsidies and contingents
against his enemies, Henry, full of importance and self-satisfaction at
his position, contracted the only one of his marriages which was not
promoted by a political intrigue, although at the time it was effected it
was doubtless looked upon as favouring the Catholic party. Certainly no
lady of the Court enjoyed a more blameless reputation than Katharine Lady
Latimer, upon whom the King now cast his eyes. A daughter of the great and
wealthy house of Parr of Kendal, allied to the royal blood in no very
distant degree, and related to most of the higher nobility of England, she
was, so far as descent was concerned, quite as worthy to be the wife of a
king as the unfortunate daughters of the house of Howard. Her brother,
Lord Parr, soon to be created Earl of Essex and Marquis of Northampton, a
favourite courtier of the King and a very splendid magnate,[233] had been
one of the chief enemies of Cromwell; who had in his last days usurped the
ancient earldom which Parr had claimed in right of his Bourchier wife,
whilst Katharine's second husband, Neville Lord Latimer, had been so
strong a Catholic as to have risked his great possessions, as well as his
head, by joining the rising in the North that had assumed the name of the
Pilgrimage of Grace and had been mainly directed against Cromwell's
measures. She was, moreover, closely related to the Throckmortons, the
stoutly Catholic family whose chief, Sir George, Cromwell had despoiled
and imprisoned until the intrigue already related drove the minister from
power in June 1540, with the mysterious support, so it is asserted, of
Katharine Lady Latimer herself, though the evidence of it is not very
convincing.[234]
Katharine had been brought up mostly in the north country with extreme
care and wisdom by a hard-headed mother, and had been married almost as a
child to an elderly widower, Lord Borough, who had died soon afterwards,
leaving her a large jointure. Her second husband, Lord Latimer, had also
been many years older than herself; and accompanying him, as she did, in
his periodical visits to London, where they had a house in the precincts
of the Charterhouse, she had for several years been remarkable in Henry's
Court, not only for her wide culture and love of learning, but also for
her friendship with the Princess Mary, whose tastes were exactly similar
to her own. Lord Latimer died in London at the beginning of 1543, leaving
to Katharine considerable property; and certainly not many weeks can have
passed before the King began to pay his court to the wealthy and dignified
widow of thirty-two. His attentions were probably not very welcome to her,
for he was a terribly dangerous husband, and any unrevealed peccadillo in
the previous life of a woman he married might mean the loss of her head.
There was another reason than this, however, that made the King's
addresses especially embarrassing to Katharine. The younger of the two
magnificent Seymour brothers, Sir Thomas, had thus early also approached
her with offers of love. He was one of the handsomest men at Court, and of
similar age to Katharine. He was already very rich with the church
plunder, and was the King's brother-in-law; so that he was in all respects
a good match for her. He must have arrived from his mission to Germany
immediately after Lord Latimer's death, and remained at Court until early
in May, about three months; during which time, from the evidence of
Katharine's subsequent letters, she seems to have made up her mind to
marry him. It may be that the King noticed signs of their courtship, for
Sir Thomas Seymour was promptly sent on an embassy to Flanders in company
with Dr. Wotton, and subsequently with the English contingent to the
Emperor's army to France, where he remained until long after Henry's sixth
marriage.
That Henry himself lost no time in approaching the widow after her
husband's death is seen by a tailor's bill for dresses for Lady Latimer
being paid out of the Exchequer by the King's orders as early as the 16th
February 1543, when it would seem that her husband cannot have been dead
much more than a month. This bill includes linen and buckram, the making
of Italian gowns, "pleats and sleeves," a slope hood and tippet, kirtles,
French, Dutch, and Venetian gowns, Venetian sleeves, French hoods, and
other feminine fripperies; the amount of the total being L8, 9s. 5d.; and,
as showing that even before the marriage considerable intimacy existed
between Katharine and the Princess Mary, it is curious to note that some
of the garments appear to have been destined for the use of the
latter.[235] By the middle of June the King's attentions to Lady Latimer
were public; and already the lot of the sickly, disinherited Princess Mary
was rendered happier by the prospective elevation of her friend. Mary came
to Court at Greenwich, as did her sister Elizabeth; and Katharine is
specially mentioned as being with them in a letter from Dudley, the new
Lord Lisle, to Katharine's brother, Lord Parr, the Warden of the Scottish
Marches. The King had then (20th June) just returned from a tour of
inspection of his coast defences, and three weeks later Cranmer as Primate
issued a licence for his marriage with Katharine Lady Latimer, without the
publication of banns.
On the 12th July 1543 the marriage took place in the upper oratory "called
the Quynes Preyevey Closet" at Hampton Court. When Gardiner the celebrant
put the canonical question to the bridegroom, his Majesty answered "with a
smiling face," yea, and, taking his bride's hand, firmly recited the usual
pledge. Katharine, whatever her inner feelings may have been, made a
bright and buxom bride, and from the first endeavoured, as none of the
other wives had done, to bring together into some semblance of family life
with her the three children of her husband. Her reward was that she was
beloved and respected by all of them; and Princess Mary, who was nearly
her own age, continued her constant companion and friend.[236]
As she began so she remained; amiable, tactful, and clever. Throughout her
life with Henry her influence was exerted wherever possible in favour of
concord, and I have not met with a single disparaging remark with regard
to her, even from those who in the last days of the King's life became her
political opponents. Her character must have been an exceedingly lovable
one, and she evidently knew to perfection how to manage men by humouring
their weak points. She could be firm, too, on occasions where an injustice
had to be remedied. A story is told of her in connection with her brother
Parr, Earl of Essex, in the _Chronicle of Henry VIII._, which, so far as I
know, has not been related by any other historian of the reign.
Parr fell in love with Lord Cobham's daughter, a very beautiful girl,
who, as told in our text, was mentioned as one of the King's flames after
Katharine Howard's fall. Parr had married the great Bourchier heiress, but
had grown tired of her, and by suborned evidence charged her with
adultery, and she was found guilty and sentenced to death. "The good
Queen, his sister, threw herself at the feet of the King and would not
rise until he had promised to grant her the boon she craved, which was the
life of the Countess (of Essex). When the King heard what it was, he said,
But, Madam, you know that the law enacts that a woman of rank who so
forgets herself shall die unless her husband pardon her. To this the Queen
answered, Your Majesty is above the law, and I will try to get my brother
to pardon. Well, said the King, if your brother be content I will pardon
her." The Queen then sends for her brother and upbraids him for bringing
perjured witnesses against his wife, which he denies and says he has only
acted in accordance with the legal evidence. "I can promise you, brother,
that it shall not be as you expect: I will have the witnesses put to the
torture, and then by God's help we shall know the truth." Before this
could be done Parr sent his witnesses to Cornwall, out of the way: and
again Katharine insisted upon the Countess' pardon, by virtue of the
promise that the King had given her. This somewhat alarmed Parr, and
Katharine managed to effect a mutual renunciation, after which Parr
married Lord Cobham's daughter.[237]
Gardiner had been not only the prelate who performed the ceremony but had
himself given the bride away; so that it may fairly be concluded that he,
at least, was not discontented with the match. Wriothesley, his obedient
creature, moreover, must have been voicing the general feeling of
Catholics when he wrote to the Duke of Suffolk in the North his eulogy of
the bride a few days after the wedding. "The King's Majesty was mareid
onne Thursdaye last to my ladye Latimor, a woman, in my judgment, for
vertewe, wisdomme and gentilnesse, most meite for his Highnesse: and sure
I am his Mat{e} had never a wife more agreable to his harte than she is.
Our Lorde sende them long lyf and moche joy togethir."[238] Both the
King's daughters had been at the wedding, Mary receiving from Katharine a
handsome present as bride's-maid; but Henry had the decency not to bid the
presence of Anne of Cleves. She is represented as being somewhat disgusted
at the turn of events. Her friends, and perhaps she herself, had never
lost the hope that if the Protestant influence became paramount, Henry
might take her back. But the imperial alliance had made England an enemy
of her brother of Cleves, whose territory the Emperor's troops were
harrying with fire and sword; and her position in England was a most
difficult one. "She would," says Chapuys, "prefer to be with her mother,
if with nothing but the clothes on her back, rather than be here now,
having specially taken great grief and despair at the King's espousal of
his new wife, who is not nearly so good-looking as she is, besides that
there is no hope of her (Katharine) having issue, seeing that she had none
by her two former husbands."[239]
As we have seen, Katharine had all her life belonged to the Catholic
party, of which the northern nobles were the leaders, and doubtless this
fact had secured for her marriage the ready acquiescence of Gardiner and
his friends, especially when coupled with the attachment known to exist
between the bride and the Princess Mary. But Katharine had studied hard,
and was devoted to the "new learning," which had suddenly become
fashionable for high-born ladies. The Latin classics, the writings of
Erasmus, of Juan Luis Vives, and others were the daily solace of the few
ladies in England who had at this time been seized with the new craze of
culture, Katharine, the King's daughters, his grand-nieces the Greys, and
the daughters of Sir Anthony Cook, being especially versed in classics,
languages, philosophy, and theology. The "new learning" had been, and was
still to be, for the most part promoted by those who sympathised with the
reformed doctrines, and Katharine's devotion to it brought her into
intimate contact with the learned men at Court whose zeal for the spread
of classical and controversial knowledge was coupled with the spirit of
inquiry which frequently went with religious heterodoxy.
Not many days after the marriage, Gardiner scented danger in this
foregathering of the Queen with such men as Cranmer and Latimer, and at
the encouragement and help given by her to the young princesses in the
translation of portions of the Scriptures, and of the writings of Erasmus.
There is no reason to conclude that Katharine, as yet, had definitely
attached herself to the reform party, but it is certain that very soon
after her marriage her love of learning, or her distrust of Gardiner's
policy and methods, caused her to look sympathetically towards those at
Court who went beyond the King in his opposition to Rome. Gardiner dared
not as yet directly attack either Katharine or Cranmer, for the King was
personally much attached to both of them, whilst Gardiner himself was
never a favourite with him. But indirectly these two persons in privileged
places might be ruined by attacking others first; and the plan was
patiently and cunningly laid to do it, before a new party of reformers led
by Cranmer, reinforced by Katharine, could gain the King's ear and reverse
the policy of his present adviser. At the instance of Gardiner's creature
Dr. London, a canon of Windsor, a prosecution under the Six Articles was
commenced against a priest and some choristers of the royal chapel, and
one other person, who were known to meet together for religious
discussion. For weeks London's spies had been listening to the talk of
those in the castle and town who might be suspected of reformed ideas; and
with the evidence so accumulated in his hand, Gardiner moved the King in
Council to issue a warrant authorising a search for unauthorised books and
papers in the town and castle of Windsor. Henry, whilst allowing the
imprisonment of the accused persons with the addition of Sir Philip Hoby
and Dr. Haines, both resident in the castle, declined to allow his own
residence to be searched for heretical books. This was a set back for
Gardiner's plan; but it succeeded to the extent of securing the conviction
and execution at the stake of three of the accused. This was merely a
beginning; and already those at Court were saying that the Bishop of
Winchester "aimed at higher deer" than those that had already fallen to
his bow.[240]
Hardly had the ashes of the three martyrs cooled, than a mass of fresh
accusations was formulated by London against several members of the royal
household. The reports of spies and informers were sent to Gardiner by the
hand of Ockham, the clerk of the court that had condemned the martyrs, but
one of the persons accused, a member of Katharine's household, received
secret notice of what was intended and waylaid Ockham. Perusal of the
documents he bore showed that much of the information had been suborned by
Dr. London and his assistant Simons, and Katharine was appealed to for her
aid. She exerted her influence with her husband to have them both
arrested and examined. Unaware that their papers had been taken from
Ockham, they foreswore themselves and broke down when confronted with the
written proofs that the case against the accused had been trumped up on
false evidence with ulterior objects. Disgrace and imprisonment for the
two instruments, London and Simons, followed,[241] but the prelate who had
inspired their activity was too indispensable to the King to be attacked,
and he, firm in his political predominance, bided his time for yet another
blow at his enemies, amongst whom he now included the Queen, whose union
with the King he and other Catholics had so recently blessed.
Cranmer, secure as he thought in the King's regard and in his great
position as Primate, had certainly laid himself open to the attacks of his
enemies, by his almost ostentatious favour to the clergy of his province
who were known to be evading or violating the Six Articles. The chapter of
his own cathedral was profoundly divided, and the majority of its members
were opposed to what they considered the injustice of their Archbishop.
Cranmer's commissary, his nephew Nevinson, whilst going out of his way to
favour those who were accused before the chapter of false doctrine,
offended deeply the majority of the clergy by his zeal--which really only
reflected that of the Archbishop himself--in the displacing and
destruction of images in the churches, even when the figures did not
offend against the law by being made the objects of superstitious
pilgrimages and offerings. For several years past the cathedral church of
Canterbury had been a hotbed of discord, in consequence of Cranmer's
having appointed, apparently on principle, men of extreme opinions on both
sides as canons, prebendaries, and preachers; and so great had grown the
opposition in his own chapter to the Primate's known views in the spring
of 1543, that it was evident that a crisis could not be long delayed,
especially as the clergy opposed to the prelate had the letter of the law
on their side, and the countenance of Gardiner, Bishop of Winchester, all
powerful as he was in the lay counsels of the King.
Some of the Kentish clergy who resented the Archbishop's action had laid
their heads together in March 1543, and formulated a set of accusations
against him. This the two most active movers in the protest had carried to
the metropolis for submission to Gardiner. They first, however, approached
the Dr. London already referred to, who rewrote the accusations with
additions of his own, in order to bring the accused within the penal law.
The two first movers, Willoughby and Searl, took fright at this, for it
was a dangerous thing to attack the Archbishop, and hastily returned home;
but Dr. London had enough for his present purpose, and handed his enlarged
version of their depositions to Gardiner. London's disgrace, already
related, stayed the matter for a time, but a few months afterwards a fresh
set of articles, alleging illegal acts on the part of the Archbishop, was
forwarded by the discontented clergy to Gardiner, and the accusers were
then summoned before the Privy Council, where they were encouraged to make
their testimony as strong as possible. When the depositions were complete
they were sent to the King by Gardiner, in the hope that now the great
stumblingblock of the Catholic party might be cleared from the path, and
that the new Queen's ruin might promptly follow that of the Primate.
But they reckoned without Henry's love for Cranmer. Rowing on the Thames
one evening in the late autumn soon after the depositions had been handed
to him, the King called at the pier by Lambeth Palace and took Cranmer
into his barge. "Ah, my chaplain," he said jocosely, as the Archbishop
took his seat in the boat, "I have news for you. I know now who is the
greatest heretic in Kent;" and with this he drew from his sleeve and
handed to Cranmer the depositions of those who had sought to ruin him. The
Archbishop insisted upon a regular Commission being issued to test the
truth of the accusations; but Henry could be generous when it suited him,
and he never knew how soon he might need Cranmer's pliable ingenuity
again. So, although he issued the Commission, he made Cranmer its head,
and gave to him the appointment of its members; with the natural result
that the accusers and all their abettors were imprisoned and forced to beg
the Primate's forgiveness for their action.[242] But the man who gave life
to the whole plot, Bishop Gardiner of Winchester, still led the King's
political counsels, much as Henry disliked him personally; for the armed
alliance with the Emperor could only bring its full harvest of profit and
glory to the King of England if the Catholic powers on the Continent were
convinced of Henry's essential orthodoxy, notwithstanding his quarrel with
the Pope.[243] So, though Cranmer might be favoured privately and
Katharine's coquetting with the new learning and its professors winked at,
Gardiner, whose Catholicism was stronger than that of his master, had to
be the figure-head to impress foreigners.
In July 1543 the English contingent to aid the imperial troops to protect
Flanders was sent from Guisnes and Calais under Sir John Wallop. By the
strict terms of the treaty they were only to be employed for a limited
period for the defence of territory invaded by the enemy; but soon after
Wallop's arrival he was asked to take part in the regular siege of
Landrecy in Hainault, that had been occupied by the French. Henry allowed
him to do so under protest. It was waste of time, he said, and would
divert the forces from what was to be their main object; but if he allowed
it, he must have the same right when the war in France commenced to call
upon the imperial contingent with him also to besiege a town if he wished
to do so. Both the allies, even before the war really began, were playing
for their own hands with the deliberate intention of making use of each
other; and in the dismal comedy of chicanery that followed and lasted
almost to Henry's death, this siege of Landrecy and that of St. Disier
were made the peg upon which countless reclamations and recriminations
were hung. The Emperor was ill, in dire need of money, and overwhelmed
with anxiety as to the attitude of the Lutheran princes during the coming
struggle. His eyes were turned towards Italy, and he depended much upon
the diversion that Henry's forces might effect by land and sea; and
conscious that the campaign must be prompt and rapid if he was to profit
by it, he sent one of his most trusted lieutenants, Ferrante Gonzaga,
Viceroy of Sicily, to England at the end of the year 1543 to settle with
Henry the plan of the campaign to be undertaken in the spring.
His task was a difficult one; for Henry was as determined to use Charles
for his advantage as Charles was to use him. After much dispute it was
agreed that Henry, as early in the summer as possible, should lead his
army of 35,000 foot and 7000 horse to invade France from Calais, whilst
the imperial troops were to invade by Lorraine, form a junction with the
English on the Somme, and push on towards Paris. Rapidity was the very
essence of such a plan; but Henry would not promise celerity. He could
not, he said, transport all his men across the sea before the end of June:
the fact being that his own secret intention all along was to conquer the
Boulognais country for himself, gain a free hand in Scotland, and leave
the Emperor to shift as he might. Utter bad faith on both sides pervaded
the affair from first to last. The engaging and payment of mercenaries by
England, the purchase of horses, arms, and stores, the hire of transport,
the interference with commerce--everything in which sharp dealing could be
employed by one ally to get the better of the other was taken advantage of
to the utmost. Henry, enfeebled as he was by disease and obesity, was
determined to turn to his personal glory the victory he anticipated for
his arms. His own courtiers dared not remonstrate with him; and, although
Katharine prayed him to have regard for his safety, he brushed aside her
remonstrances as becoming womanly fears for a dearly loved husband.
Charles knew that if the King himself crossed the Channel the English army
would not be at the imperial bidding. Envoys were consequently sent from
Flanders to pray Henry, for his health's sake, not to risk the hardships
of a sea voyage and a campaign. The subject was a sore one with him; and
when the envoy began to dwell too emphatically upon his infirmities, he
flew into a passion and said that the Emperor was suffering from gout,
which was much worse than any malady he (Henry) had, and it would be more
dangerous for the Emperor to go to the war.
Henry's decision to accompany his army at once increased the importance of
Katharine; who, in accordance with precedent, would become regent in her
husband's absence. A glimpse of her growing influence at this time is seen
in a letter of hers, dated 3rd June 1544, to the Countess of Hertford,
that termagant Ann Stanhope who afterwards was her jealous enemy.
Hertford had been sent in March to the Scottish Border to invade again,
and this time utterly crush Scotland, where Henry's pensioners had played
him false, and betrothed their infant Queen to the heir of France. The
Countess, anxious that her husband should be at home during the King's
absence--probably in order that if anything happened to Henry, Hertford
might take prompt measures on behalf of the new King, his nephew, and
safeguard his own influence--wrote to Katharine praying for her aid.[244]
The Queen's answer is written on the same sheet of paper as one from
Princess Mary to the Countess, whose letters to Katharine had been sent
through the Princess. "My lord your husband's comyng hyther is not
altered, for he schall come home before the Kynge's Majesty take hys
journey over the sees, as it pleaseth his Majesty to declare to me of
late. You may be ryght assured I wold not have forgotten my promise to you
in a matter of lesse effect than thys, and so I pray you most hartely to
think....--KATERYN THE QUENE."[245]
Since Henry insisted upon going to the war himself the next best thing,
according to the Emperor's point of view, to keeping him away was to cause
some Spanish officer of high rank and great experience to be constantly
close to him during the campaign. Except the little skirmishes on the
borders of Scotland, Englishmen had seen no active military service for
many years, and it was urged upon Henry that a general well acquainted
with modern Continental warfare would be useful to him. The Emperor's
Spanish and Italian commanders were the best in the world, as were his
men-at-arms; and a grandee, the Duke of Najera, who was on his way from
Flanders to Spain by sea, was looked upon as being a suitable man for the
purpose of advising the King of England. Henry was determined to impress
him and entertained him splendidly, delaying him as long as possible, in
order that he might be persuaded to accompany the English forces. The
accounts of Najera's stay in England show that Katharine had now, the
spring of 1544, quite settled down in her position as Queen and coming
Regent. Chapuys mentions that when he first took Najera to Court he
"visited the Queen and Princess (Mary), who asked very minutely for news
of the Emperor ... and, although the Queen was a little indisposed, she
wished to dance for the honour of the company. The Queen favours the
Princess all she can; and since the Treaty with the Emperor was made, she
has constantly urged the Princess' cause, insomuch as in this sitting of
Parliament she (Mary) has been declared capable of succeeding in default
of the Prince."[246]
A Spaniard who attended Najera tells the story of the Duke's interview
with Katharine somewhat more fully. "The Duke kissed the Queen's hand and
was then conducted to another chamber, to which the Queen and ladies
followed, and there was music and much beautiful dancing. The Queen danced
first with her brother very gracefully, and then Princess Mary and the
Princess of Scotland (_i.e._ Lady Margaret Douglas) danced with other
gentlemen, and many other ladies also danced, a Venetian of the King's
household dancing some gaillards with such extraordinary activity that he
seemed to have wings upon his feet; surely never was a man seen so agile.
After the dancing had lasted several hours the Queen returned to her
chamber, first causing one of the noblemen who spoke Spanish to offer some
presents to the Duke, who kissed her hand. He would likewise have kissed
that of the Princess Mary, but she offered her lips; and so he saluted her
and all the other ladies.[247] The King is regarded as a very powerful and
handsome man. The Queen is graceful and of cheerful countenance; and is
praised for her virtue. She wore an underskirt, showing in front, of cloth
of gold, and a sleeved over-dress of brocade lined with crimson satin, the
sleeves themselves being lined with crimson velvet, and the train was two
yards long. She wore hanging from the neck two crosses and a jewel of very
magnificent diamonds, and she wore a great number of splendid diamonds in
her headdress." The author of this curious contemporary document excels
himself in praise of the Princess Mary, whose dress on the occasion
described was even more splendid than that of the Queen, consisting as it
did entirely of cloth of gold and purple velvet. The house and gardens of
Whitehall also moved the witness to wonder and admiration. The green
alleys with high hedges of the garden and the sculpture with which the
walks were adorned especially attracted the attention of the visitors, and
the greatness of London and the stately river Thames are declared to be
incomparable.[248]
The Duke of Najera, unwilling to stay, and, apparently, not impressing
Henry very favourably, went on his way; and was immediately followed by
another Spanish commander of equal rank and much greater experience in
warfare, the Duke of Alburquerque, and he, too, was received with the
splendour and ostentation that Henry loved, ultimately accompanying the
King to the siege of Boulogne as military adviser; both the King and
Queen, we are told, treating him with extraordinary favour.[249]
By the time that Henry was ready to cross the Channel early in July to
join his army, which several weeks before had preceded him under the
command of Norfolk and Suffolk, the short-lived and insincere alliance
with the Emperor, from which Henry and Gardiner had expected so much, was
already strained almost to breaking point. The great imperialist defeat
at Ceresole in Savoy earlier in the year had made Henry more disinclined
than ever to sacrifice English men and treasure to fight indirectly the
Emperor's battle in Italy. Even before that Henry had begun to show signs
of an intention to break away from the plan of campaign agreed upon. How
dangerous it would be, he said, for the Emperor to push forward into
France without securing the ground behind him. "Far better to lay siege to
two or three large towns on the road to Paris than to go to the capital
and burn it down." Charles was indignant, and continued to send reminders
and remonstrances that the plan agreed upon must be adhered to. Henry
retorted that Charles himself had departed from it by laying siege to
Landecy. The question of supplies from Flanders, the payment and passage
of mercenaries through the Emperor's territories, the free concession of
trading licences by the Queen Regent of the Netherlands, and a dozen other
questions, kept the relations between the allies in a state of irritation
and acrimony, even before the campaign well began, and it is clear thus
early that Henry started with the fixed intention of conquering the
territory of Boulogne, and then perhaps making friends with Francis,
leaving the Emperor at war. With both the great rivals exhausted, he would
be more sought after than ever. He at once laid siege to Montreuil and
Boulogne, and personally took command, deaf to the prayers and
remonstrances of Charles and his sister, that he would not go beyond
Calais, "for his health's sake"; but would send the bulk of his forces to
join the Emperor's army before St. Disier. The Emperor had himself broken
the compact by besieging Landrecy and St. Disier; and so the bulk of
Henry's army sat down before Boulogne, whilst the Emperor, short of
provisions, far in an enemy's country, with weak lines of communication,
unfriendly Lorraine on his flank and two French armies approaching him,
could only curse almost in despair the hour that he trusted the word of
"his good brother," the King of England.
Katharine bade farewell to her husband at Dover when he went on his
pompous voyage,[250] and returned forthwith to London, fully empowered to
rule England as Regent during his absence. She was directed to use the
advice and counsel of Cranmer, Wriothesley, the Earl of Hertford, who was
to replace her if she became incapacitated, Thirlby, and Petre; Gardiner
accompanying the King as minister. The letters written by Katharine to her
husband during his short campaign show no such instances of want of tact
as did those of the first Katharine, quoted in the earlier pages of this
book. It is plain to read in them the clever, discreet woman, determined
to please a vain man; content to take a subordinate place and to shine by
a reflected light alone. "She thanks God for a prosperous beginning of his
affairs;" "she rejoices at the joyful news of his good health," and in a
business-like way shows that she and her council are actively forwarding
the interests of the King with a single-hearted view to his honour and
glory alone.
During this time the young Prince Edward and his sister Mary were at
Hampton Court with the Queen; but the other daughter, Elizabeth, lived
apart at St. James's. Though it is evident that the girl was generally
regarded and treated as inferior to her sister, she appears to have felt a
real regard for her stepmother, almost the only person who, since her
infancy, had been kind to her. Elizabeth wrote to the Queen on the 31st
July a curious letter in Italian. "Envious fortune," she writes, "for a
whole year deprived me of your Highness's presence, and, not content
therewith, has again despoiled me of that boon. I know, nevertheless, that
I have your love; and that you have not forgotten me in writing to the
King. I pray you in writing to his Majesty deign to recommend me to him;
praying him for his ever-welcome blessing; praying at the same time to
Almighty God to send him good fortune and victory over his enemies; so
that your Highness and I together may the sooner rejoice at his happy
return. I humbly pray to God to have your Highness in His keeping; and
respectfully kissing your Highness' hand.--ELIZABETH."[251]
Katharine indeed, in this trying time of responsibility, comes well out of
her ordeal. The prayer[252] composed by her for peace at this period is
really a beautiful composition; and the letter from her to her husband,
printed by Strype, breathes sentiment likely to please such a man as
Henry, but in language at once womanly and dignified. "Although the
distance of time and account of days," she writes, "neither is long nor
many, of your Majesty's absence, yet the want of your presence, so much
beloved and desired by me, maketh me that I cannot quietly pleasure in
anything until I hear from your Majesty. The time therefore seemeth to me
very long, with a great desire to know how your Highness hath done since
your departing hence; whose prosperity and health I prefer and desire more
than mine own. And, whereas I know your Majesty's absence is never without
great need, yet love and affection compel me to desire your presence.
Again the same zeal and affection forceth me to be best content with that
which is your will and pleasure. Thus, love maketh me in all things set
apart mine own convenience and pleasure, and to embrace most joyfully his
will and pleasure whom I love. God, the knower of secrets, can judge these
words to be not only written with ink but most truly impressed upon the
heart. Much more I omit, less it be thought I go about to praise myself or
crave a thank. Which thing to do I mind nothing less, but a plain simple
relation of the love and zeal I bear your Majesty, proceeding from the
abundance of the heart.... I make like account with your Majesty, as I do
with God, for His benefits and gifts heaped upon me daily; acknowledging
myself to be a great debtor to Him, not being able to recompense the least
of His benefit. In which state I am certain and sure to die, yet I hope
for His gracious acceptance of my goodwill. Even such confidence have I in
your Majesty's gentleness, knowing myself never to have done my duty as
were requisite and meet for such a noble Prince, at whose hands I have
received so much love and goodness that with words I cannot express
it."[253]
It will be seen by this, and nearly every other letter that Katharine
wrote to her husband, that she had taken the measure of his prodigious
vanity, and indulged him to the top of his bent. In a letter written to
him on the 9th August, referring to the success of the Earl of Lennox, who
had just married Henry's niece, Margaret Douglas, and had gone to Scotland
to seize the government in English interest, Katharine says: "The good
speed which Lennox has had, is to be imputed to his serving a master whom
God aids. He might have served the French king, his old master, many years
without attaining such a victory." This is the attitude in which Henry
loved to be approached, and with such letters from his wife in England
confirming the Jove-like qualities attributed to him in consequence of his
presence with his army in France, Henry's short campaign before Boulogne
was doubtless one of the pleasantest experiences in his life.
To add to his satisfaction, he had not been at Calais a week before
Francis began to make secret overtures for peace. It was too early for
that, however, just yet, for Henry coveted Boulogne, and the sole use made
of the French approaches to him was to impress the imperial agents with
his supreme importance. The warning was not lost upon Charles and his
sister the Queen Regent of the Netherlands, who themselves began to
listen to the unofficial suggestions for peace made by the agents of the
Duchess d'Etampes, the mistress of Francis, in order, if possible, to
benefit herself and the Duke of Orleans in the conditions, to the
detriment of the Dauphin Henry. Thenceforward it was a close game of
diplomatic finesse between Henry and Charles as to which should make terms
first and arbitrate on the claims of the other.
St. Disier capitulated to the Emperor on the 8th August; and Charles at
once sent another envoy to Henry at Boulogne, praying him urgently to
fulfil the plan of campaign decided with Gonzaga, or the whole French army
would be concentrated upon the imperial forces and crush them. But Henry
would not budge from before Boulogne, and Charles, whilst rapidly pushing
forward into France, and in serious danger of being cut off by the
Dauphin, listened intently for sounds of peace. They soon came, through
the Duke of Lorraine; and before the end of August the Emperor was in
close negotiation with the French, determined, come what might, that the
final settlement of terms should not be left in the hands of the King of
England. Henry's action at this juncture was pompous, inflated, and
stupid, whilst that of Charles was statesmanlike, though unscrupulous.
Even during the negotiations Charles pushed forward and captured Epernay
and Chateau Thierry, where the Dauphin's stores were. This was on the 7th
September, and then having struck his blow he knew that he must make peace
at once. He therefore sent the young Bishop of Arras, Granvelle, with a
message to Henry which he knew would have the effect desired. The King of
England was again to be urged formally but insincerely to advance and join
the Emperor, but if he would not the Emperor must make peace, always
providing that the English claims were satisfactorily settled.
Arras arrived in the English camp on the 11th September. He found Henry in
his most vaunting mood; for only three days before the ancient tower on
the harbour side opposite Boulogne had been captured by his men.[254] He
could not move forward, he said; it was too late in the season to begin a
new campaign, and he was only bound by the treaty to keep the field four
months in a year. If the Emperor was in a fix, that was his look-out. The
terms, moreover, suggested for the peace between his ally and France were
out of the question, especially the clause about English claims. The
French had already offered him much better conditions than those. Arras
pushed his point. The Emperor must know definitely, he urged, whether the
King of England would make peace or not, as affairs could not be left
pending. Then Henry lost his temper, as the clever imperial ministers knew
he would do, and blurted out in a rage: "Let the Emperor make peace for
himself if he likes, but nothing must be done to prejudice my claims." It
was enough for the purpose desired, for in good truth the Emperor had
already agreed with the French, and Arras posted back to his master with
Henry's hasty words giving permission for him to make a separate peace. In
vain for the next two years Henry strove to unsay, to palliate, to
disclaim these words. Quarrels, bursts of violent passion, incoherent
rage, indignant denials, were all of no avail; the words were said, and
vouched for by those who heard them; and Charles hurriedly ratified the
peace already practically made with France on terms that surprised the
world, and made Henry wild with indignation.
The Emperor, victor though he was, in appearance gave away everything. His
daughter or niece was to marry Orleans, with Milan or Flanders as a dowry;
Savoy was to be restored to the Duke, and the French were to join the
Emperor in alliance against the Turk. None knew yet--though Henry may have
suspected it--that behind the public treaty there was a secret compact by
which the two Catholic sovereigns agreed to concentrate their joint powers
and extirpate a greater enemy than the Turk, namely, the rising power of
Protestantism in Europe. Henry was thus betrayed and was at war alone with
France, all of whose forces were now directed against him. Boulogne fell
to the English on the 14th September, three days after Arras arrived in
Henry's camp, and the King hurried back to England in blazing wrath with
the Emperor and inflated with the glorification of his own victory, eager
for the applause of his subjects before his laurels faded and the French
beleagured the captured town. Gardiner and Paget, soon to be joined
temporarily by Hertford, remained in Calais in order to continue, if
possible, the abortive peace negotiations with France. But it was a
hopeless task now; for Francis, free from fear on his north-east frontier,
was determined to win back Boulogne at any cost. The Dauphin swore that he
would have no peace whilst Boulogne remained in English hands, and Henry
boastfully declared that he would hold it for ever now that he had won it.
Thenceforward the relations between Henry and the Emperor became daily
more unamiable. Henry claimed under the treaty that Charles should still
help him in the war, but that was out of the question. When in 1546 the
French made a descent upon the Isle of Wight, once more the treaty was
invoked violently by the King of England: almost daily claims, complaints,
and denunciations were made on both sides with regard to the vexed
question of contraband of war for the French, mostly Dutch herrings; and
the right of capture by the English. The Emperor was seriously intent upon
keeping Henry on fairly good terms, and certainly did not wish to go to
war with him; but he had submitted to the hard terms of the peace of
Crespy with a distinct object, and dared not jeopardise it by renewing his
quarrel with France for the sake of Henry.
Slowly it had forced itself upon the mind of Charles that his own
Protestant vassals, the Princes of the Schmalkaldic league, must be
crushed into obedience, or his own power would become a shadow; and his
aim was to keep all Christendom friendly until he had choked Lutheranism
at its fountain-head. From the period of Henry's return to England in
these circumstances, growing sympathy for those whom a Papal and imperial
coalition were attacking caused the influence of the Catholic party in his
Councils gradually but spasmodically to decline. Chapuys, who himself was
hastening to the grave, accompanied his successor Van Der Delft as
ambassador to England at Christmas (1544), and describes Henry as looking
very old and broken, but more boastful of his victory over the French than
ever. He professed, no doubt sincerely, a desire to remain friendly with
the Emperor; and after their interview with him the ambassadors, without
any desire being expressed on their part, were conducted to the Queen's
oratory during divine service. In reply to their greetings and thanks for
her good offices for the preservation of friendship and her kindness to
Princess Mary, Katharine "replied, very graciously, that she did not
deserve so much courtesy from your Majesty (the Emperor). What she did for
Lady Mary was less than she would like to do, and was only her duty in
every respect. With regard to the maintenance of friendship, she said she
had done, and would do, nothing to prevent its growing still firmer, and
she hoped that God would avert the slightest dissension; as the friendship
was so necessary, and both sovereigns were so good."[255]
[Illustration: _HENRY VIII._
_From a portrait by_ HOLBEIN _in the possession of the Earl of Warwick_]
Katharine was equally amiable, though evidently now playing a political
part, when four months later the aged and crippled Chapuys bade his
last farewell to England. He was being carried in a chair to take leave of
Henry at Whitehall one morning in May at nine o'clock. He was an hour
earlier than the time fixed for his audience, and was passing through the
green alleys of the garden towards the King's apartments, when notice was
brought to him that the Queen and Princess Mary were hastening after him.
He stopped at once, and had just time to hobble out of his chair before
the two ladies reached him. "It seemed from the small suite she had with
her, and the haste with which she came, as if her purpose in coming was
specially to speak to me. She was attended only by four or five ladies of
the chamber, and opened the conversation by saying that the King had told
her the previous evening that I was coming that morning to say good-bye.
She was very sorry, on the one hand, for my departure, as she had been
told that I had always performed my duties well, and the King trusted me;
but on the other hand she doubted not that my health would be better on
the other side of the sea. I could, however, she said, do as much on the
other side as here, for the maintenance of the friendship, of which I had
been one of the chief promoters. For this reason she was glad I was going;
although she had no doubt that so wise and good a sovereign as your
Majesty (_i.e._ the Emperor) would see the need and importance of
upholding the friendship, of which the King, on his side, had given so
many proofs in the past. Yet it seemed to her that your Majesty had not
been so thoroughly informed hitherto, either by my letters or otherwise,
of the King's sincere affection and goodwill, as I should be able to
report verbally. She therefore begged me earnestly, after I had presented
to your Majesty her humble service, to express explicitly to you, all that
I had learned here of the good wishes of the King."[256]
There was much more high-flown compliment both from Katharine and her
step-daughter before the gouty ambassador went on his way; but it is
evident that Katharine, like her husband, was at this time (May 1545)
apprehensive as to the intentions of Charles and his French allies towards
England, and was still desirous to obtain some aid in the war under the
treaty, in order, if possible, to weaken the new friendship with France
and the Catholic alliance. In the meanwhile the failure of Gardiner's
policy, and the irritation felt at the Emperor's abandonment of England,
placed the minister somewhat under a cloud. He had failed, too, to
persuade the Emperor personally to fulfil the treaty, as well as in his
negotiations for peace with the French; and, as his sun gradually sank
before the King's annoyance, that of Secretary Paget, of Hertford, of
Dudley, and of Wriothesley, now Lord Chancellor, a mere time-serving
courtier, rose. The Protestant element around Katharine, too, became
bolder, and her own participation in politics was now frankly on the
anti-Catholic side. The alliance--insincere and temporary though it
was--between the Emperor and France, once more produced its inevitable
effect of drawing together England and the German Lutherans. It is true
that Charles' great plan for crushing dissent by the aid of the Pope was
not yet publicly known; but the Council of Trent was slowly gathering, and
it was clear to the German princes of the Schmalkaldic league that great
events touching religion and their independence were in the air; for
Cardinal Farnese and the Papal agents were running backward and forward to
the Emperor on secret missions, and all the Catholic world rang with
denunciation of heresy.
In June the new imperial ambassador, Van Der Delft, sounded the first note
of alarm from England. Katharine Parr's secretary, Buckler, he said, had
been in Germany for weeks, trying to arrange a league between the
Protestant princes and England. This was a matter of the highest
importance, and Charles when he heard of it was doubly desirous of keeping
his English brother from quite breaking away; whilst in September there
arrived in England from France a regular embassy from the Duke of Saxony,
the Landgrave of Hesse, the Duke of Wuertemburg, and the King of Denmark,
ostensibly to promote peace between England and France, but really bent
upon effecting a Protestant alliance. Henry, indeed, was seriously
alarmed. He was exhausted by his long war in France, harassed in the
victualling of Boulogne and even of Calais, and fully alive to the fact
that he was practically defenceless against an armed coalition of the
Emperor and France. In the circumstances it was natural that the influence
over him of his wife, and of his brother-in-law Hertford, both inclined to
a reconciliation with France and an understanding with the German
Protestants, should increase.
Katharine, now undisguisedly in favour of such a policy, was full of tact;
during the King's frequent attacks of illness she was tender and useful to
him, and the attachment to her of the young Prince Edward, testified by
many charming little letters of the boy, too well known to need quotation
here, seemed to promise a growth of her State importance. The tendency was
one to be strenuously opposed by Gardiner and his friends in the Council,
and once more attempts were made to strike at the Queen through Cranmer,
almost simultaneously with a movement, flattering to Henry and hopeful for
the Catholic party, to negotiate a meeting at Calais or in Flanders
between him and the Emperor, to settle all questions and make France
distrustful. For any such approach to be productive of the full effects
desired by Gardiner, it was necessary to couple with it severe measures
against the Protestants. Henry was reminded that the coming attack upon
the German Lutherans by the Emperor, with the acquiescence of France,
would certainly portend an attack upon himself later; and he was told by
the Catholic majority of his Council that any tenderness on his part
towards heresy now would be specially perilous. The first blow was struck
at Cranmer, and was struck in vain. The story in full is told by Strype
from Morice and Foxe, and has been repeated by every historian of the
reign. Gardiner and his colleagues represented to Henry that, although the
Archbishop was spreading heresy, no one dared to give evidence against a
Privy Councillor whilst he was free. The King promised that they might
send Cranmer to the Tower, if on examination of him they found reason to
do so. Late that night Henry sent across the river to Lambeth to summon
the Archbishop from his bed to see him, told him of the accusation, and
his consent that the accused should be judged and, if advisable, committed
to the Tower by his own colleagues on the Council. Cranmer humbly thanked
the King, sure, as he said, that no injustice would be permitted. Henry,
however, knew better, and indignantly said so; giving to his favourite
prelate his ring for a token that summoned the Council to the royal
presence.
The next morning early Cranmer was summoned to the Council, and was kept
long waiting in an ante-room amongst suitors and serving-men. Dr. Butts,
Henry's privileged physician, saw this and told the King that the
Archbishop of Canterbury had turned lackey; for he had stood humbly
waiting outside the Council door for an hour. Henry, in a towering rage,
growled, "I shall talk to them by-and-by." When Cranmer was charged with
encouraging heresy he demanded of his colleagues that he should be
confronted with his accusers. They refused him rudely, and told him he
should be sent to the Tower. Then Cranmer's turn came, and he produced the
King's ring, to the dismay of the Council, who, when they tremblingly
faced their irate sovereign, were taken to task with a violence that
promised them ill, if ever they dared to touch again the King's friend.
But though Cranmer was unassailable, the preachers who followed his creed
were not. In the spring of 1546 the persecutions under the Six Articles
commenced afresh, and for a short time the Catholic party in the Council
had much their own way, having frightened Henry into abandoning the
Lutheran connection, in order that the vengeance of the Catholic league
might not fall upon him, when the Emperor had crushed the Schmalkaldic
princes.[257]
Henry's health was visibly failing, and the two factions in his Court knew
that time was short in which to establish the predominance of either at
the critical moment. On the Protestant side were Hertford, Dudley,
Cranmer, and the Queen, and on the other Gardiner, Paget, Paulet, and
Wriothesley; and as Katharine's influence grew with her husband's
increasing infirmity, it became necessary for the opposite party if
possible to get rid of her before the King died. In February 1546 the
imperial ambassador reported: "I am confused and apprehensive to have to
inform your Majesty that there are rumours here of a new Queen, although I
do not know why or how true they may be. Some people attribute them to the
sterility of the Queen, whilst others say that there will be no change
whilst the present war lasts. The Duchess of Suffolk is much talked about,
and is in great favour; but the King shows no alteration in his behaviour
towards the Queen, though she is, I am informed, annoyed at the
rumours."[258] Hints of this sort continued for some time, and evidently
took their rise from a deliberate attack upon Katharine by the Catholic
councillors. She herself, for once, failed in her tact, and laid herself
open to the designs of her enemies. She was betrayed into a religious
discussion with Henry during one of his attacks of illness, in the
presence of Gardiner, much to the King's annoyance. When she had retired
the Bishop flattered Henry by saying that he wondered how any one could
have the temerity to differ from him on theology, and carried his
suggestions further by saying that such a person might well oppose him in
other things than opinions. Moved by the hints at his danger, always a
safe card to play with him, the King allowed an indictment to be drawn up
against Katharine, and certain ladies of her family, under the Six
Articles. Everything was arranged for the Queen's arrest and examination,
when Wriothesley, the Lord Chancellor, a servile creature who always clung
to the strongest side, seems to have taken fright and divulged the plot to
one of her friends. Katharine was at once informed and fell ill with
fright, which for a short time deferred the arrest. Being partially
recovered she sought the King, and when he began to talk about religion,
she by her submission and refusal to contradict his views, as those of one
far too learned for her to controvert, easily flattered him back into a
good humour with her. The next day was fixed for carrying her to the
Tower, and again Henry determined to play a trick upon his ministers.
Sending for his wife in the garden, he kept her in conversation until the
hour appointed for her arrest. When Wriothesley and the guard approached,
the King turned upon him in a fury, calling him knave, fool, beast, and
other opprobrious names, to the Lord Chancellor's utter surprise and
confusion.
The failure of the attack upon Katharine in the summer of 1546 marks the
decline of the Catholic party in the Council. Peace was made with France
in the autumn; and Katharine did her part in the splendid reception of the
Admiral of France and the great rejoicings over the new peace treaty
(September 1546). Almost simultaneously came the news of fresh dissensions
between the Emperor and Francis; for the terms of the peace of Crespy were
flagrantly evaded, and it began to be seen now that the treaty had for its
sole object the keeping of France quiet and England at war whilst the
German Protestants were crushed. Not in France alone, but in England too,
the revulsion of feeling against the Emperor's aims was great. The
treacherous attack upon his own vassals in order to force orthodoxy upon
them at the sword's point had been successful, and it was seen to
constitute a menace to all the world. Again Protestant envoys came to
England and obtained a loan from Henry: again the Duke Philip of Bavaria,
who said that he had never heard mass in his life until he arrived in
England, came to claim the hand of the Princess Mary;[259] and the
Catholics in the King's Council, forced to stand upon the defensive,
became, not the conspirators but those conspired against. Hertford and
Dudley, now Lord Admiral, were the King's principal companions, both in
his pastimes and his business; and the imperial ambassador expressed his
fears for the future to a caucus of the Council consisting of Gardiner,
Wriothesley, and Paulet, deploring, as he said, that "not only had the
Protestants their openly declared champions ... but I had even heard that
some of them had gained great favour with the King, though I wished they
were as far away from Court as they were last year. I did not mention
names, but the persons I referred to were the Earl of Hertford and the
Lord Admiral. The councillors made no reply, but they clearly showed that
they understood me, and continued in their great devotion to your
Majesty."[260]
Late in September the King fell seriously ill, and his life for a time was
despaired of. Dr. Butts had died some months before, and the Queen was
indefatigable in her attendance; and the Seymours, as uncles of the heir,
rose in importance as the danger to the King increased. The only strong
men on the Council on the Catholic side were Gardiner, who was extremely
unpopular and already beaten, and Norfolk. Paulet was as obedient to the
prevailing wind as a weathercock; Wriothesley was an obsequious, greedy
sycophant; Paget a humble official with little influence, and the rest
were nonentities. The enmity of the Seymours against the Howards was of
long standing, and was as much personal as political; especially between
the younger brother, Sir Thomas Seymour, and the Earl of Surrey, the heir
of Norfolk, whose quarrels and affrays had several times caused scandal at
Court. There was much ill-will also between Surrey and his sister, the
widowed Duchess of Richmond, who after the death of her young husband had
been almost betrothed to Sir Thomas Seymour.[261] With these elements of
enmity a story was trumped up which frightened the sick King into the
absurd idea that Surrey aimed at succeeding to the crown, to the exclusion
of Henry's children. It was sufficient to send him to the Tower, and
afterwards to the block as one of Henry's most popular victims. His
father, the aged Duke of Norfolk, was got rid of by charges of complicity
with him. Stripped of his garter, the first of English nobles was carried
to the Tower by water, whilst his brilliant poet son was led through the
streets of London like a pickpurse, cheered to the echo by the crowd that
loved him. The story hatched to explain the arrests to the public, besides
the silly gossip about Surrey's coat-of-arms and claims to the crown, was,
that whilst the King was thought to be dying in November at Windsor, the
Duke and his son had plotted to obtain possession of the Prince for their
own ends on the death of his father. Having regard for the plots and
counterplots that we know divided the Council at the time, this is very
probable, and was exactly what Hertford and Dudley were doing, the Prince,
indeed, being then in his uncle's keeping at Hertford Castle.
At the end of December the King suffered from a fresh attack, which
promised to be fatal. He was at Whitehall at the time, whilst Katharine
was at Greenwich, an unusual thing which attracted much comment; but
whether she was purposely excluded by Hertford from access to him or not,
it is certain that the Protestant party of which she, the Duchess of
Suffolk, and the Countess of Hertford were the principal lady members, and
the Earl of Hertford and Lord Admiral Dudley the active leaders, alone had
control of affairs. Gardiner had been threatened with the Tower months
before, and had then only been saved by Norfolk's bold protest. Now
Norfolk was safe under bolts and bars, whilst Wriothesley and Paulet were
openly insulted by Hertford and Dudley, and, like their chief Gardiner,
lay low in fear of what was to come when the King died.[262] They were
soon to learn. The King had been growing worse daily during January. His
legs, covered with running ulcers, were useless to him and in terrible
torture. His bulk was so unwieldy that mechanical means had to be employed
to lift him. Surrey had been done to death in the Tower for high treason,
whilst yet the King's stiffened hand could sign the death-warrant; but
when the time came for killing Norfolk, Henry was too far gone to place
his signature to the fatal paper. Wriothesley, always ready to oblige the
strong, produced a commission, stated to be authorised by the King,
empowering him as Chancellor to sign for him, which he did upon the
warrant ordering the death of Norfolk, whose head was to fall on the
following morning. But it was too late, for on the morrow before the hour
fixed for the execution the soul of King Henry had gone to its account,
and none dared carry out the vicarious command to sacrifice the proudest
noble in the realm for the convenience of the political party for the
moment predominant.
On the afternoon of 26th January 1547 the end of the King was seen to be
approaching. The events of Henry's deathbed have been told with so much
religious passion on both sides that it is somewhat difficult to arrive at
the truth. Between the soul in despair and mortal anguish, as described by
Rivadeneyra, and the devout Protestant deathbed portrayed by some of the
ardent religious reformers, there is a world of difference. The accepted
English version says that, fearing the dying man's anger, none of the
courtiers dared to tell him of his coming dissolution, until his old
friend Sir Anthony Denny, leaning over him, gently broke the news. Henry
was calm and resigned, and when asked if he wished to see a priest, he
answered: "Only Cranmer, and him not yet." It was to be never, for Henry
was speechless and sightless when the Primate came, and the King could
answer only by a pressure of his numbed fingers the question if he died in
the faith of Christ. Another contemporary, whom I have several times
quoted, though always with some reservation, says that Henry, some days
before he died, took a tender farewell of the Princess Mary, to whose
motherly care he commended her young brother; and that he then sent for
the Queen and said to her, "'It is God's will that we should part, and I
order all these gentlemen to honour and treat you as if I were living
still; and, if it should be your pleasure to marry again, I order that you
shall have seven thousand pounds for your service as long as you live, and
all your jewels and ornaments.' The good Queen could not answer for
weeping, and he ordered her to leave him. The next day he confessed, took
the sacrament, and commended his soul to God."[263]
Henry died, in fact, as he had lived, a Catholic. The Reformation in
England, of which we have traced the beginnings in this book, did not
spring mature from the mind and will of the King, but was gradually thrust
upon him by the force of circumstances, arising out of the steps he took
to satisfy his passion and gratify his imperious vanity. Freedom of
thought in religion was the last thing to commend itself to such a mind as
his, and his treatment of those who disobeyed either the Act of Supremacy
or the Bloody Statute (the Six Articles) shows that neither on the one
side or the other would he tolerate dissent from his own views, which he
characteristically caused to be embodied in the law of the land, either in
politics or religion. The concession to subjects of the right of private
judgment in matters of conscience seemed to the potentates of the
sixteenth century to strike at the very base of all authority, and the
very last to concede such a revolutionary claim was Henry Tudor. His
separation from the Papal obedience, whilst retaining what, in his view,
were the essentials of the Papal creed, was directed rather to the
increase than to the diminution of his own authority over his subjects,
and it was this fact that doubtless made it more than ever attractive to
him. To ascribe to him a complete plan for the aggrandisement of England
and her emancipation from foreign control, by means of religious schism,
has always appeared to me to endow him with a political sagacity and
prescience which, in my opinion, he did not possess, and to estimate
imperfectly the forces by which he was impelled.
We have seen how, entirely in consequence of the unexpected difficulties
raised by the Papacy to the first divorce, he adopted the bold advice of
Cranmer and Cromwell to defy the Pope on that particular point. The
opposition of the Pope was a purely political one, forced upon him by the
Emperor for reasons of State, in order to prevent a coalition between
England and France; and there were several occasions when, if the Pope had
been left to himself, he would have found a solution that would have kept
England in the orthodox fold. But for the persistence of the opposition
Henry would never have taken the first step that led to the Reformation.
Having taken it, each other step onward was the almost inevitable
consequence of the first, having regard to the peculiar character of the
King. It has been the main business of this book to trace in what respect
the policy that ended in the great religious schism was reflected or
influenced by the matrimonial adventures of the King, who has gone down to
history as the most married monarch of modern times. We have seen that,
although, with the exception of Katharine of Aragon and Anne Boleyn, each
for a short time, the direct influence of Henry's wives upon events was
small, each one represented, and coincided in point of time with, a
change in the ruling forces around the King. We have seen that the
libidinous tendency of the monarch was utilised by the rival parties, as
were all other elements that might help them, to forward the opportunity
by which a person to some extent dependent upon them might be placed at
the side of the King as his wife; and when for the purpose it was
necessary to remove the wife in possession first, we have witnessed the
process by which it was effected.
The story from this point of view has not been told before in its
entirety, and as the whole panorama unrolls before us, we mark curiously
the regular degeneration of Henry's character, as the only checks upon his
action were removed, and he progressively defied traditional authority and
established standards of conduct without disaster to himself. The power of
the Church to censure or punish him, and the fear of personal reprobation
by the world, were the influences that, had they retained their force over
him to the end, would probably have kept Henry to all appearance a good
man. But when he found, probably to his own surprise, that the jealous
divisions of the Catholic powers on the Continent made defiance of the
Church in his case unpunishable, and that crafty advisers and servile
Parliaments could give to his deeds, however violent and cruel, the
sanction of Holy Writ and the law of the land, there was no power on earth
to hold in check the devil in the breast of Henry Tudor; and the man who
began a vain, brilliant sensualist, with the feelings of a gentleman,
ended a repulsive, bloodstained monster, the more dangerous because his
evil was always held to be good by himself and those around him.
In his own eyes he was a deeply wronged and ill-used man when Katharine of
Aragon refused to surrender her position as his wife after twenty years of
wedlock, and appealed to forces outside England to aid her in supporting
her claim. It was a rebellious, a cruel, and a wicked thing for her and
her friends to stand in the way of his tender conscience, and of his
laudable and natural desire to be succeeded on the throne by a son of his
own. Similarly, it seemed very hard upon him that all Europe, and most of
his own country, should be threateningly against him for the sake of Anne
Boleyn, for whom he had already sacrificed and suffered so much, and
particularly as she was shrewish and had brought him no son. He really was
a most ill-used man, and it was a providential instance of divine justice
that Cromwell, in the nick of time, when the situation had become
unendurable and Jane Seymour's prudish charms were most elusive, should
fortunately discover that Anne was unworthy to be Henry's wife, and
Cranmer should decide that she never _had_ been his wife. It was not his
fault, moreover, that Anne of Cleves' physical qualities had repelled him.
A wicked and ungenerous trick had been played upon him. His trustful
ingenuousness had been betrayed by flatterers at the instance of a knavish
minister, who, not content with bringing him a large unsympathetic Dutch
vrow for a wife, had pledged him to an alliance with a lot of
insignificant vassal princes in rebellion against the greater sovereigns
who were his own peers. It was a just decree of heaven that the righteous
wisdom of Gardiner and Norfolk should enable it to be demonstrated clearly
that the good King had once more been deceived, and that Anne, and the
policy she stood for, could be repudiated at the same time without
opprobrium or wrongdoing. Again, how relentless was the persecution of the
powers of evil against the obese invalid of fifty who married in ignorance
of her immoral past a light-lived beauty of seventeen, and was undeceived
when her frivolity began to pall upon him by those whose political and
religious views might benefit by the disgrace of the party that had placed
Katharine Howard by the King's side as his wife. That the girl Queen
should lose her head for lack of virtue before her marriage and lack of
prudence after it, was, of course, quite just, and in accordance with the
law of the land--for all that Henry did was strictly legal--but it was a
heartrending thing that the good husband should suffer the distress of
having once believed in so unworthy a wife. Still Katharine Howard was not
sacrificed in vain, for, although the Catholic policy she represented
suffered no check, for reasons set forth in earlier pages, the King's sad
bereavement left him in the matrimonial market and enhanced his price as
an ally, for much of the future depended upon the wife and the party that
should be in possession when the King died. As we have seen, the
Protestants, or rather the anti-Catholics, won the last trick; and
Somerset's predominance meant that the Reformation in England should not
be one of form alone but of substance.
The life of Katharine Parr after Henry's death hardly enters into the plan
of this book; but a few lines may be devoted to it, and to her pitiable
end. The instant rise of the Protector Somerset on the death of Henry
brought with it a corresponding increase in the importance of his brother
Sir Thomas, then Lord Seymour of Sudeley, who was certainly no less
ambitious than his brother, and probably of much stronger character. For a
time all went well between the brothers, Thomas being created Lord
Admiral, to the annoyance of Dudley--now Earl of Warwick--who had held the
office, and receiving great grants of forfeited estates and other wealth.
But soon the evident attempts of Lord Seymour to rival his elder brother,
and perhaps to supplant him, aroused the jealousy of Somerset, or more
likely of his quarrelsome and haughty wife.
Some love passages, we have seen, took place between Seymour and Katharine
Parr before her marriage with the King, so that it need not be ascribed to
ambition that the lover should once more cast his eyes upon the royal
widow before the weeds for the King had been cast aside.[264] Katharine,
with a large dower that has already been mentioned, lived alternately in
her two mansion-houses at Chelsea and Hanworth; and to her care was
consigned the Lady Elizabeth, then a girl of fourteen. As early as the
beginning of May 1547, Seymour had visited the widowed Queen at Chelsea
with his tale of love. Katharine was now thirty-four years of age, and
having married in succession three old men, might fairly be entitled to
contract a fourth marriage to please herself. There was no more manly or
handsome figure in England than that of Seymour, with his stately stature,
his sonorous voice, and his fine brown beard; and in his quiet meetings
with the Queen in her pretty riverside garden at Chelsea, he appears to
have found no difficulty in persuading Katharine of the sincerity of his
love.
For a time the engagement was kept secret; but watchful eyes were around
the Queen, especially those of her own kin, and the following letter,
written by Seymour to her on the 17th May, shows that her sister, Lady
Herbert, at least, had wind from Katharine of what was going on: "After my
humble commendations of your Highness. Yester night I supped at my brother
Herbert's, of whom, for your sake besydes my nown, I receved good cheyre.
And after the same I received from your Highness by my sister Herbert[265]
your commendations, which were more welcome than they were sent. And after
the same she (Lady Herbert) waded further with me touching my being with
your Highness at Chelsey, which I denied; but that, indeed, I went by the
garden as I went to the Bishop of London's howse; and at this point I
stood with her for a time, till at last she told me further tokens that
made me change colour; and she, like a false wench, took me with the
maner. Then, remembering what she was, and knowing how well ye trusted
her, I examined her whether these things came from your Highness and by
that knew it to be true; for the which I render unto your Highness my most
umbell and harty thanks: for by her company (in default of yours) I shall
shorten the weeks in these parts, which heretofore were three days longer
in every of them than they were under the planets at Chelsey. Besydes this
commoditye I may ascertain (_i.e._ inform) your Highness by her how I do
proceed in my matter...." Seymour goes on to say that he has not yet dared
to try his strength until he is fully in favour, this having reference
apparently to his intention of begging his brother to permit the marriage,
and then he proceeds: "If I knew by what means I might gratify your
Highness for your goodness to me at our last being together, I should not
be slack to declare mine to you again, and the intent that I will be more
bound to your Highness, I do make my request that, yf it be nott painfull
to your Highness, that once in three days I may receve three lynes in a
letter from you; and as many lynes and letters more as shall seem good to
your Highness. Also I shall ombeley desyr your Highness to geve me one of
your small pictures yf ye hav one left, who with his silence shall give me
occasion to think on the friendly cheere I shall have when my sawght
(suit?) shall be at an end. 12 o'clock in the night this Tewsday the 17th
May 1547. From him whom ye have bound to honour, love, and in all lawful
thynges obbey.--T. SEYMOUR."
The Queen had evidently pledged her troth to her lover at the previous
meeting; and it would appear that when Katharine had promised to write to
him but once a fortnight her impatience, as much as his, could ill suffer
so long a silence. Either in answer to the above letter, or another
similar one, Katharine wrote: "My Lord, I send you my most humble and
hearty commendations, being desirous to know how ye have done since I saw
you. I pray ye be not offended with me in that I send sooner to you than I
said I would, for my promise was but once a fortnight. Howbeit, the time
is well abbreviated, by what means I know not, except weeks be shorter at
Chelsey than in other places. My Lord, your brother hath deferred
answering such requests as I made to him till his coming hither, which he
sayeth shall be immediately after the term. This is not the first promise
I have received of his coming, and yet unperformed. I think my lady
(_i.e._ the Duchess of Somerset) hath taught him that lesson, for it is
her custom to promise many comings to her friends and to perform none. I
trust in greater matters she is more circumspect."[266] Then follows a
curious loving postscript, which shows that Katharine's fancy for Seymour
was no new passion. "I would not have you think that this, mine honest
good will toward you, proceeds from any sudden motion of passion; for, as
truly as God is God, my mind was fully bent the other time I was at
liberty to marry you before any man I know. Howbeit, God withstood my will
therein most vehemently for a time, and through His grace and goodness
made that possible which seemed to me most impossible: that was, made me
renounce utterly mine own will, and follow His most willingly. It were
long to write all the process of this matter. If I live I shall declare it
to you myself. I can say nothing; but as my lady of Suffolk saith: 'God is
a marvellous man.'--KATHERYN THE QUENE."[267]
The course of true love did not run smoothly. Somerset, and especially his
wife, did not like the idea of his younger brother's elevation to higher
influence by his marrying the Queen-Dowager; and the Protector proved
unwilling to grant his consent to the marriage. Katharine evidently
resented this, and was inclined to use her great influence with the young
King himself over his elder uncle's head. When Seymour was in doubt how to
approach his brother about it, Katharine wrote spiritedly: "The denial of
your request shall make his folly more manifest to the world, which will
more grieve me than the want of his speaking. I would not wish you to
importune for his goodwill if it come not frankly at first. It shall be
sufficient once to require it, and then to cease. I would desire you might
obtain the King's letters in your favour, and also the aid and furtherance
of the most notable of the Council, such as ye shall think convenient,
which thing being obtained shall be no small shame to your brother and
sister in case they do not the like." In the same letter Katharine rather
playfully dallies with her lover's request that she will abridge the
period of waiting from two years to two months, and then she concludes in
a way which proves if nothing else did how deeply she was in love with
Seymour. "When it shall pleasure you to repair hither (Chelsea) ye must
take some pains to come early in the morning, so that ye may be gone again
by seven o'clock; and thus I suppose ye may come without being suspect. I
pray ye let me have knowledge overnight at what hour ye will come, that
your portress (_i.e._ Katharine herself) may wait at the gate to the
fields for you."
It was not two years, or even two months, that the impatient lovers
waited: for they must have been married before the last day in May 1547,
four months after Henry's death. Katharine's suggestion that the boy King
himself should be enlisted on their side, was adopted; and he was induced
to press Seymour's suit to his father's widow, as if he were the promoter
of it. When the secret marriage was known to Somerset, he expressed the
greatest indignation and anger at it; and a system of petty persecution of
Katharine began. Her jewels, of which the King had left her the use during
her life, were withheld from her; her jointure estates were dealt with by
Somerset regardless of her wishes and protests; and her every appearance
at Court led to a squabble with the Protector's wife as to the precedence
to be accorded to her. On one occasion it is stated that this question of
precedence led in the Chapel Royal to a personal encounter between
Katharine and proud Ann Stanhope.
Nor was Katharine's life at home with her gallant, empty-headed, turbulent
husband, cloudless. The Princess Elizabeth lived with them; and though she
was but a girl, Seymour began before many months of married life to act
suspiciously with her. The manners of the time were free; and Seymour
might perhaps innocently romp suggestively, as he did, sometimes alone and
sometimes in his wife's presence, with the young Princess as she lay in
bed; but when Katharine, entering a chamber suddenly once, found young
Elizabeth embraced in her husband's arms, there was a domestic explosion
which led to the departure of the girl from the Chelsea household.[268]
Katharine was pregnant at the time; and Elizabeth's letter to her on her
leaving Chelsea shows that although, for the sake of prudence, the girl
was sent away, there was no great unkindness between her and her
stepmother in consequence. She says that she was chary of her thanks when
leaving, because "I was replete with sorrow to depart from your Highness,
especially leaving you undoubtful of health, and, albeit I answered
little, I weighed more deeper when you said you would warn me of all the
evils that you should hear of me."
When the poor lady's time drew near, she wrote a hopeful yet pathetic
letter to her husband, who was already involving himself in the ambitious
schemes that brought his head to the block. Both she and her husband in
their letters anticipated the birth of their child with a frankness of
detail which make the documents unfitted for reproduction here; and it is
evident that, though they were now often separated, this looked-for son
was to be a new pledge to bind them together for the future. In June 1548
Seymour took his wife to Sudeley Castle for her confinement; and from
there carried on, through his agents with the King, his secret plots to
supersede his brother Somerset as Protector of the realm. He and his wife
were surrounded by a retinue so large, as of itself to constitute a menace
to the Protector; but Katharine's royal title gave a pretext for so large
a household, and this and her personal influence secured whilst she lived
her husband's safety from attack by his brother.
At length, on the 30th August, Katharine's child was born, a daughter, and
at first all went well. Even Somerset, angry and distrustful as he was,
was infected by his brother's joy, and sent congratulations. But on the
fourth day the mother became excited, and wandered somewhat; saying that
she thought she would die, and that she was not being well treated. "Those
who are about me do not care for me, but stand laughing at my grief," she
complained to her friend Lady Tyrwhitt. This was evidently directed
against Seymour, who stood by. "Why, sweetheart," he said, "I would you no
hurt." "No, my Lord," replied Katharine, "I think so; but," she whispered,
"you have given me many shrewd taunts." This seems to have troubled
Seymour, and he suggested to Lady Tyrwhitt that he should lie on the bed
by the Queen's side and try to calm her; but his efforts were without
effect, for she continued excitedly to say that she had not been properly
dealt with. These facts, related and magnified by attendants, and coupled
with Seymour's desire to marry Elizabeth as soon as his wife died, gave
rise to a pretty general opinion that Katharine was either poisoned or
otherwise ill treated. But there are many circumstances that point in the
contrary direction, and there can be no reasonable doubt now, that
although in her inmost mind she had begun to distrust her husband, and the
anxiety so caused may have contributed to her illness, she died (on the
5th September) of ordinary puerperal fever.
She was buried in great state in the chapel at Sudeley Castle, and her
remains, which have been examined and described several times, add their
testimony to the belief that the unfortunate Queen died a natural death.
The death of Katharine Parr, the last, and least politically important, of
Henry's six wives, took place, so far as English history is concerned, on
the day that heralded the death of her royal husband. From the moment that
Somerset and his wife sat in the seats of the mighty there was no room for
the exercise of political influence by the Queen-Dowager; and these latter
pages telling of her fourth marriage, this time for love, form but a human
postscript to a political history.
Footnotes:
[1] _Spanish Calendar_, vol. 1.
[2] The second marriage, by proxy, of Arthur and Katharine eventually took
place at the chapel of the royal manor of Bewdley on the 19th May 1499,
and the young Prince appears to have performed his part of the ceremony
with much decorum: "Saying in a loud, clear voice to Dr. Puebla, who
represented the bride, that he was much rejoiced to contract an
indissoluble marriage with Katharine, Princess of Wales, not only in
obedience to the Pope and King Henry, but also from his deep and sincere
love for the said Princess, his wife."--_Spanish Calendar_, vol. 1.
[3] Hall's _Chronicle_.
[4] Leland's _Collectanea_.
[5] Hall's _Chronicle_.
[6] _Spanish Calendar_, vol. 1.
[7] The Spanish agent believed that Henry would have preferred that
Katharine had not accompanied Arthur to Wales, but for his desire to force
her to use her valuables, so that he might obtain their equivalent in
money. Both Dona Elvira and Bishop Ayala told Henry that they considered
that it would be well that the young couple should be separated and not
live together for a time, as Arthur was so young. But Puebla and the
Princess's chaplain, Alexander (Fitzgerald), had apparently said to the
King that the bride's parents did not wish the Princess to be separated
from her husband on any account. Dona Elvira's opinion on the matter
assumes importance from her subsequent declaration soon after Arthur's
death that she knew the marriage had not been consummated.
[8] _Spanish Calendar_, vol. 1, 271.
[9] There is in the Biblioteca Nacional at Madrid (I. 325) a Spanish
document, apparently a contemporary translation of the report sent to
Henry from Valencia by the three agents he sent thither in 1505 to report
upon the appearance of the two widowed Queens of Naples resident there.
James Braybrooke, John Stile, and Francis Marsin express an extremely
free, but favourable, opinion of the charms of the younger queen, aged
twenty-seven. Katharine appears to have given letters of recommendation to
the envoys. The Spanish version of the document varies but little from the
printed English copy in the Calendar. The date of it is not given, but it
must have been written in the late autumn of 1505. Henry was evidently
anxious for the match, though he said that he would not marry the lady for
all the treasures in the world if she turned out to be ugly. The Queen of
Naples, however, would not allow a portrait to be taken of her, and
decidedly objected to the match. The various phases of Henry's own
matrimonial intrigues cannot be dealt with in this book, but it appears
certain that if he could have allied himself to Spain by marrying the
Queen of Naples, he would have broken his son's betrothal with Katharine,
and have married him to one of the young princesses of France, a
master-stroke which would have bound him to all the principal political
factors in Europe.
[10] _Spanish Calendar_, vol. 1, p. 309.
[11] She insisted--in accord with Ferdinand and Isabel--that Katharine
should live in great seclusion as a widow until the second marriage
actually took place, and Katharine appears to have done so at this time,
though not very willingly. Some of her friends seem to have incited her to
enjoy more freedom, but a tight hand was kept upon her, until events made
her her own mistress, when, as will be seen in a subsequent page, she
quite lost her head for a time, and committed what at least were the
gravest indiscretions. (See _Spanish Calendar_, vol. 1 and Supplement.)
[12] The protest is dated 24th June 1505, when Henry was fourteen.
[13] Margaret absolutely refused to marry Henry, and a substitute was
found in the betrothal of young Charles, the eldest son of Philip, to
Henry's younger daughter, Mary Tudor, afterwards Queen of France and
Duchess of Suffolk.
[14] _Spanish Calendar_, vol. 1, 386.
[15] This letter is dated in March 1507, and is a most characteristic
epistle. Ferdinand in it professes the deepest love for his daughter and
sympathy for her unhappiness. He had had the money all ready to send, he
assures her, but King Philip had stopped it; and she must keep friendly
with King Henry, never allowing any question to be raised as to the
binding nature of her marriage with his son. As to the King's marriage
with Juana, the proposal must be kept very secret or Juana will do
something to prevent it; but if she ever marry again it shall be with no
one else but Henry. Whether Ferdinand ever meant in any case to sell his
distraught daughter to Henry may be doubted; but the proposal offered a
good opportunity of gaining a fresh hold upon the King of England.
[16] Puebla says that Henry had bought very cheaply the jewels of the
deposed Kings of Naples and had great stores of them. He would only take
Katharine's at a very low price.
[17] _Spanish Calendar_, vol. 1, 409, 15th April 1507.
[18] The letters relating to this curious affair were for some years kept
secret by the authorities at Simancas; but were eventually printed in the
Supplement to vols. 2 and 3 of the _Spanish Calendar_.
[19] _Calendar Henry VIII._, 26th July 1509.
[20] It is doubtful if he was ever present at an engagement, and he
hurried home from Boulogne as soon as hard fighting seemed to the fore.
His fear of contagion and sickness was exhibited in most undignified
fashion on several occasions.
[21] _Calendar Henry VIII._, 23rd September 1513.
[22] Katharine to Wolsey, 13th August 1513. _Calendar Henry VIII._
[23] _Venetian Calendar_, vol. 2, 7th October 1513.
[24] _Venetian Calendar_, vol. 2.
[25] Lippomano from Rome, 1st September. _Venetian Calendar_, vol. 2.
[26] _Calendar Henry VIII._, 31st December 1514.
[27] See Giustiani's letters in the _Venetian Calendars_ of the date.
[28] See the letters of Henry's secretary, Richard Pace, in the _Calendar
of Henry VIII._, vol. 2.
[29] The Emperor's fleet was sighted off Plymouth on the 23rd May 1520.
[30] In the _Rutland Papers_ (Camden Society), Hall's _Chronicle_, and
Camden's _Annales_ full and interesting details will be found.
[31] The ambassador Martin de Salinas, who arrived in England during the
Emperor's stay, from the Archduke Ferdinand who acted as _locum tenens_ in
Germany for his brother, reports (_Spanish Calendar Henry VIII._, vol. 2)
that he delivered separate credentials to Queen Katharine, who promised to
read them and give him her answer later. He continues: "I went to see her
again this morning. She said that one of the letters had contained my
credentials and the other spoke of the business of the Turks. The time for
a war with the Turks, she declared, was ill chosen; as the war with France
absorbed all the English resources. I told her that the Infante (_i.e._
Ferdinand) regarded her as his true mother, and prayed her not to forsake
him, but to see that the King of England sent him succour against the
Turk. She answered that it will be impossible for the King to do so." It
will be seen by this and other references to the same matter that
Katharine at this time, during the imperial alliance, was again taking a
powerful part in political affairs.
[32] See the series of letters in Bradford's "Charles V." and Pace's
correspondence in the _Henry VIII. Calendar_.
[33] A good idea of the magnitude and splendour of the preparations may be
gained by the official lists of personages and "diets," in the _Rutland
Papers_, Camden Society. The pageants themselves are fully described in
Hall.
[34] Amongst others the 10 per cent. tax on all property in 1523. See
Roper's "Life of More," Hall's _Chronicle_, Herbert's "Henry VIII.," &c.
[35] Henry's answer, which was very emphatic, testified that although he
had lost affection for his wife he respected her still; indeed his
attitude to her throughout all his subsequent cruelty was consistently
respectful to her character as a woman and a queen. "If," he said on this
occasion, "he should seek a mistress for her (the Princess Mary), to frame
her after the manner of Spain, and of whom she might take example of
virtue, he should not find in all Christendom a more mete than she now
hath, that is the Queen's grace, her mother."--_Venetian Calendar._
[36] _Spanish Calendar_, vol. 3, p. 1.
[37] Late in 1525. A sad little letter written by Katharine in her quaint
English to her daughter at this time is well known, but will bear
repeating. Mary had written asking how she was; and the reply assures the
Princess that it had not been forgetfulness of her that had caused her
mother to delay the answer. "I am in that case that the long absence of
the King and you troubleth me. My health is metely good; and I trust in
God, he that sent me the last (illness?) doth it to the best and will
shortly turn it (_i.e._ like?) to the fyrst to come to good effect. And in
the meantime, I am veray glad to hear from you, specially when they shew
me that ye be well amended. As for your writing in Latin, I am glad ye
shall change from me to Master Federston; for that shall do you much good
to learn by him to write right. But yet sometimes I would be glad when ye
do write to Master Federston of your own enditing, when he hath read it
that I may see it. For it shall be a great comfort to me to see you keep
your Latin and fair writing and all." (Ellis' "Original Letters," B.M.
Cotton Vesp. F. xiii.)
[38] Mr. Froude denied that there is any foundation for the assertion that
Mary Boleyn was the King's mistress. It seems to me, on the contrary, to
be as fully supported by evidence as any such fact can be.
[39] As usual, Hall is very diffuse in his descriptions of these
festivities, especially in their sartorial aspects, and those readers who
desire such details may be referred to his _Chronicle_.
[40] Cavendish, "Life of Wolsey."
[41] Letters of Inigo Lopez de Mendoza early in 1527. _Spanish Calendar_,
vol. 3, part 2.
[42] _Spanish Calendar_, vol. 3, part 2, Mendoza's letters, and _Henry
VIII. Calendar_, vol. 4, part 2, Wolsey to the King, 5th July 1527.
[43] How false were all the parties to each other at this time may be seen
in a curious letter from Knight, the King's secretary, to Wolsey (when in
France) about this man's going (Ellis' "Original Letters"). "So yt is that
Francisco Philip Spaniard hath instantly laboured for license to go into
Spain pretendyng cawse and colour of his goyng to be forasmuch as he
saiyth he wolde visite his modre which is veari sore syk. The Queen hath
both refused to assent unto his going and allso laboured unto the King's
Highnesse to empesh the same. The King's Highnesse, knowing grete colusion
and dissymulation betwene theym, doth allso dissymule faynyng that
Philip's desyre is made upon good grownde and consideration, and hath
easyli persuaded the Quene to be content with his goyng." The writer
continues that the King had even promised to ransom Felipe if he was
captured on his way through France, and desires Wolsey, notwithstanding
the man's passport, to have him secretly captured, taking care that the
King's share in the plot should never be known. Wolsey in reply says that
it shall be done, unless Felipe went to Spain by sea. Probably Katharine
guessed her husband's trick, for Felipe must have gone by sea, as he duly
arrived at Valladolid and told the Emperor his message.
[44] Blickling Hall, Norfolk, is frequently claimed as her birthplace, and
even Ireland has put in its claim for the doubtful honour. The evidence in
favour of Hever is, however, the strongest.
[45] Mr. Brewer was strongly of opinion that Anne did not go to France
until some years afterwards, and that it was Mary Boleyn who accompanied
the Princess in 1514. He also believed that Anne was the younger of the
two sisters. There was, of course, some ground for both of these
contentions, but the evidence marshalled against them by Mr. Friedmann in
an appendix to his "Anne Boleyn" appears to me unanswerable.
[46] "Life of Wolsey." Cavendish was the Cardinal's gentleman usher.
[47] "Life of Wolsey." It was afterwards stated, with much probability of
truth, that Anne's _liaison_ with Percy had gone much further than a mere
engagement to marry.
[48] Cavendish, Wolsey's usher, tells a story which shows how Katharine
regarded the King's flirtation with Anne at this time. Playing at cards
with her rival, the Queen noticed that Anne held the King several times.
"My lady Anne," she said, "you have good hap ever to stop at a King; but
you are like the others, you will have all or none." Contemptuous
tolerance by a proud royal lady of a light jade who was scheming to be her
husband's mistress, was evidently Katharine's sentiment.
[49] Wolsey to Henry from Compiegne, 5th September 1527. _Calendar Henry
VIII._, vol. 4, part 2.
[50] Wolsey to Ghinucci and Lee, 5th August 1527. _Calendar Henry VIII._,
vol. 4, part 2.
[51] Several long speeches stated to have been uttered by her to Henry
when he sought her illicit love are given in the Sloane MSS., 2495, in the
British Museum, but they are stilted expressions of exalted virtue quite
foreign to Anne's character and manner.
[52] Although it was said to have been suggested by Dr. Barlow, Lord
Rochford's chaplain.
[53] The dispensation asked for was to permit Henry to marry a woman, even
if she stood in the first degree of affinity, "either by reason of licit
or illicit connection," provided she was not the widow of his deceased
brother. This could only refer to the fact that Mary Boleyn, Anne's
sister, had been his mistress, and that Henry desired to provide against
all risk of a disputed succession arising out of the invalidity of the
proposed marriage. By the canon law previous to 1533 no difference had
been made between legitimate and illegitimate intercourse so far as
concerned the forbidden degrees of affinity between husband and wife. In
that year (1533) when Henry's marriage with Anne had just been celebrated,
an Act of Parliament was passed setting forth a list of forbidden degrees
for husband and wife, and in this the affinities by reason of illicit
intercourse were omitted. In 1536, when Anne was doomed, another Act was
passed ordering every man who had married the sister of a former mistress
to separate from her and forbidding such marriages in future. Before
Henry's marriage with Anne, Sir George Throgmorton mentioned to him the
common belief that Henry had carried on a _liaison_ with both the
stepmother and the sister of Anne. "_Never with the mother_," replied the
King; "nor with the sister either," added Cromwell. But most people will
conclude that the King's remark was an admission that Mary Boleyn was his
mistress. (Friedmann's "Anne Boleyn," Appendix B.)
[54] It would not be fair to accept as gospel the unsupported assertions
of the enemies of Anne with regard to her light behaviour before marriage,
though they are numerous and circumstantial, but Wyatt's own story of his
snatching a locket from her and wearing it under his doublet, by which
Henry's jealousy was aroused, gives us the clue to the meaning of another
contemporary statement (_Chronicle of Henry VIII._, edited by the writer),
to the effect that Wyatt, who was a great friend of the King, and was one
of those accused at the time of Anne's fall, when confronted with
Cromwell, privately told him to remind the King of the warning he gave him
about Anne before the marriage. Chapuys, also, writing at the time when
Anne was in the highest favour (1530), told the Emperor that she had been
accused by the Duke of Suffolk of undue familiarity with "a gentleman who
on a former occasion had been banished on suspicion." This might apply
either to Percy or Wyatt. All authorities agree that her demeanour was not
usually modest or decorous.
[55] _Calendar Henry VIII._, vol. 4, part 2.
[56] Not content with her Howard descent through her mother, Anne, or
rather her father, had caused a bogus pedigree to be drawn up by which the
city mercer who had been his grandfather was represented as being of noble
Norman blood. The Duchess of Norfolk was scornful and indignant, and gave
to Anne "a piece of her mind" on the subject, greatly to Henry's
annoyance. (_Spanish Calendar Henry VIII._, vol. 4, part 2.)
[57] They took with them a love-letter from the King to Anne which is
still extant (_Calendar Henry VIII._, vol. 4, part 2). He tells her that
"they were despatched with as many things to compass our matter as wit
could imagine," and he trusts that he and his sweetheart will shortly have
their desired end. "This would be more to my heart's ease and quietness of
mind than anything in the world.... Keep him (_i.e._ Gardiner) not too
long with you, but desire him for your sake to make the more speed; for
the sooner we have word of him the sooner shall our matter come to pass.
And thus upon trust of your short repair to London I make end of my
letter, mine own sweetheart. Written with the hand of him which desireth
as much to be yours as you do to have him." Gardiner also took with him
Henry's book justifying his view of the invalidity of his marriage. A good
description of the Pope's cautious attitude whilst he read this production
is contained in Gardiner's letter from Orvieto, 31st March 1528. (_Henry
VIII. Calendar_, vol. 4, part 2.)
[58] Hall tells a curious and circumstantial story that the declaration of
war, which led to the confiscation of great quantities of English property
in the imperial dominions, was brought about purely by a trick of Wolsey,
his intention being to sacrifice Clarencieux Herald, who was sent to Spain
with the defiance. Clarencieux, however, learnt of the intention as he
passed through Bayonne on his way home, and found means through Nicholas
Carew to see the King at Hampton Court before Wolsey knew of his return.
When he had shown Henry by the Cardinal's own letters that the grounds for
the declaration of war had been invented by the latter, the King burst out
angrily: "O Lorde Jesu! he that I trusted moste told me all these things
contrary. Well, Clarencieux, I will be no more of so light credence
hereafter, for now I see perfectly that I am made to believe the thing
that never was done." Hall continues that the King was closeted with
Wolsey, from which audience the Cardinal came "not very mery, and after
that time the Kyng mistrusted hym ever after." This must have been in
April 1528.
[59] For Erasmus' letter see _Calendar Henry VIII._, vol. 4, part 2, and
for Vives' letter see "Vives Opera," vol. 7.
[60] The Pope was told that there were certain secret reasons which could
not be committed to writing why the marriage should be dissolved, the
Queen "suffering from certain diseases defying all remedy, for which, as
well as other reasons, the King would never again live with her as his
wife."
[61] This was written before the death of the courtiers already mentioned.
[62] See the letters on the question of the appointment of the Abbess of
Wilton in Fiddes' "Life of Wolsey," and the _Calendar Henry VIII._, vol.
4, part 2, &c.
[63] This letter was stated by Sir H. Ellis in his "Original Letters" to
be from Katharine and Henry; and many false presumptions with regard to
their relations at this time have been founded on the error.
[64] It will be remarked that her statement was limited to the fact that
she had remained intact _da lui_, "by him." This might well be true, and
yet there might be grounds for Henry's silence in non-confirmation of her
public and repeated reiteration of the statement in the course of the
proceedings, and for the stress laid by his advocates upon the boyish
boast of Arthur related in an earlier chapter. The episode of the young
cleric, Diego Fernandez, must not be forgotten in this connection.
[65] The words, often quoted, are given by Hall.
[66] _Calendar Henry VIII._, vol. 4, part 2.
[67] Wolsey to Sir Gregory Casale, 1st November 1528. _Calendar Henry
VIII._, vol. 4, part 2.
[68] Or as Henry himself puts it in his letters to his envoys in Rome,
"for him to have two legal wives instead of one," Katharine in a convent
and the other by his side.
[69] So desirous was the Papal interest to persuade Katharine to this
course that one of the Cardinals in Rome (Salviati) told the Emperor's
envoy Mai that she would be very unwise to resist further or she might be
poisoned, as the English ambassadors had hinted she would be. Mai's reply
was that "the Queen was ready to incur that danger rather than be a bad
wife and prejudice her daughter." (_Calendar Henry VIII._, vol. 4, part
3.)
[70] Hall's _Chronicle_.
[71] This is Hall's version. Du Bellay, the French ambassador (_Calendar
Henry VIII._, vol. 4, part 2), adds that Henry began to hector at the end
of the speech, saying that if any one dared in future to speak of the
matter in a way disrespectful to him he would let him know who was master.
"There was no head so fine," he said, "that he would not make it fly."
[72] _Calendar Henry VIII._, vol. 4, part 2. "Intended Address of the
Legates to the Queen."
[73] This is not surprising, as only a month before she had been reproved
and threatened for not being sad enough.
[74] There seems to be no doubt, from a letter written in January 1529 by
the Pope to Campeggio, that the copy sent to Katharine from Spain was a
forgery, or contained clauses which operated in her favour, but which were
not in the original document. It was said that there was no entry of such
a brief in the Papal archives, and Katharine herself asserted that the
wording of it--alleging the consummation of Arthur's marriage--was unknown
to her. The Spaniards explained the absence of any record of the document
in the Papal Registry by saying that at the urgent prayer of Isabel the
Catholic on her deathbed, the original brief had been sent to her as soon
as it was granted. (_Calendar Henry VIII._, vol. 4, part 3, p. 2278.)
[75] _Ibid._
[76] _Calendar Henry VIII._, vol. 4, part 3.
[77] _Ibid._ The suspicion against Wolsey at this time arose doubtless
from his renewed attempts to obtain the Papacy on Clement's death. These
led him to oppose a decision of the divorce except by the ecclesiastical
authority.
[78] It was on this occasion that Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk,
Henry's old friend and brother-in-law, lost patience. "Banging the table
before him violently, he shouted: 'By the Mass! now I see that the old saw
is true, that there never was Legate or Cardinal that did good in
England;' and with that all the temporal lords departed to the King,
leaving the Legates sitting looking at each other, sore
astonished."--Hall's _Chronicle_, and Cavendish's "Wolsey."
[79] Du Bellay to Montmorency, 22nd October 1529. _Henry VIII. Calendar_,
vol. 4, part 3.
[80] This peremptory order seems to have been precipitated by a peculiarly
acrimonious correspondence between Henry and his wife at the end of July.
She had been in the habit of sending him private messages under token; and
when he and Anne had left Windsor on their hunting tour, Katharine sent to
him, as usual, to inquire after his health and to say that, though she had
been forbidden to accompany him, she had hoped, at least, that she might
have been allowed to bid him good-bye. The King burst into a violent rage.
"Tell the Queen," he said to the messenger, "that he did not want any of
her good-byes, and had no wish to afford her consolation. He did not care
whether she asked after his health or not. She had caused him no end of
trouble, and had obstinately refused the reasonable request of his Privy
Council. She depended, he knew, upon the Emperor; but she would find that
God Almighty was more powerful still. In any case, he wanted no more of
her messages." To this angry outburst the Queen must needs write a long,
cold, dignified, and utterly tactless letter, which irritated the King
still more, and his reply was that of a vulgar bully without a spark of
good feeling. "It would be a great deal better," he wrote, "if she spent
her time in seeking witnesses to prove her pretended virginity at the time
of her marriage with him, than in talking about it to whoever would listen
to her, as she was doing. As for sending messages to him, let her stop it,
and mind her own business. (Chapuys to the Emperor, 21st July 1531.
_Spanish Calendar Henry VIII._)
[81] _Spanish Calendar Henry VIII._, 1531.
[82] Katharine to the Emperor, _Spanish Calendar Henry VIII._, 28th July
1531.
[83] Foxe.
[84] Chapuys relates in May 1532 that when Henry asked the House of
Commons for a grant to fortify the Scottish Border, two members spoke
strongly against it. The best guarantee of peace, they said, was to keep
friendly with the Emperor. They urged the House to beg the King to return
to his lawful wife, and treat her properly, or the whole kingdom would be
ruined; since the Emperor was more capable of harming England than any
other potentate, and would not fail to avenge his aunt. The House, it is
represented, was in favour of this view with the exception of two or three
members, and the question of the grant demanded was held in abeyance.
Henry, of course, was extremely angry, and sent for the majority, whom he
harangued in a long speech, saying that the matter of the divorce was not
then before them, but that he was determined to protect them against
ecclesiastical encroachment. The leaders of the protest, however, were
made to understand they were treading on dangerous ground, and hastened to
submit before Henry's threats.--_Spanish Calendar_, vol. 4, 2nd May 1532.
[85] Chapuys to the Emperor, 16th April 1532.--_Spanish Calendar_, vol. 4,
2nd May 1532.
[86] In May 1532 the Nuncio complained to Norfolk of a preacher who in the
pulpit had dared to call the Pope a heretic. The Duke replied that he was
not surprised, for the man was a Lutheran. If it had not been for the Earl
of Wiltshire _and another person_ (evidently Anne) he, Norfolk, would have
burnt the man alive, with another like him. It is clear from this that
Norfolk was now gravely alarmed at the religious situation created by
Anne.
[87] _Spanish Calendar Henry VIII._, 1st October 1532.
[88] Hall's _Chronicle_, and _The Chronicle of Calais_, Camden Society.
[89] It is often stated to have been celebrated by Dr. Lee, and sometimes
even by Cranmer, who appears to have been present.
[90] _Spanish Calendar Henry VIII._, Chapuys to the Emperor, 9th February
1533.
[91] _Ibid._, 15th February.
[92] Chapuys, writing to Granville on the 23rd February, relates that
Anne, "without rhyme or reason, amidst a great company as she came out her
chamber, began to say to one whom she loves well, and who was formerly
sent away from Court by the King out of jealousy (probably Wyatt), that
three days before she had had a furious hankering to eat apples, such as
she had never had in her life before; and the King had told her that it
was a sign she was pregnant, but she had said that it was nothing of the
sort. Then she burst out laughing loudly and returned to her room. Almost
all the Court heard what she said and did; and most of those present were
much surprised and shocked." (_Spanish Calendar Henry VIII._)