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THE HISTORY
OF
MARY I., QUEEN OF ENGLAND
[Illustration: THE PRINCESS MARY.
From the original portrait in the Gallery of the University, Oxford.]
THE HISTORY OF
MARY I.
QUEEN OF ENGLAND
AS FOUND IN THE
PUBLIC RECORDS, DESPATCHES OF AMBASSADORS
IN ORIGINAL PRIVATE LETTERS, AND OTHER
CONTEMPORARY DOCUMENTS
BY
J. M. STONE
LONDON
SANDS & CO.
12 BURLEIGH STREET, STRAND, W.C.
1901
PREFACE.
At a time when prejudiced historical verdicts are being largely
revised, and when it is universally admitted that history must be
studied on broader and more discriminating lines than heretofore, the
restatement of the case for our first Queen Regnant scarcely needs an
apology.
Two books, one _The Privy Purse Expenses of the Princess Mary_, with
an Introductory Memoir by Sir Frederick Madden, some time Keeper of
the Manuscripts in the British Museum, and the other, _The Life of
Jane Dormer, Duchess of Feria_, edited by the Rev. Joseph Stevenson,
from the original manuscript in the possession of Lord Dormer, first
revealed Queen Mary to me as an attractive and sympathetic personality.
Subsequent diligent examination of documents relating to her life and
reign, scattered about the various archives of Europe, has not belied
that impression, but has further shown that more interest attaches
to her dire struggle with the difficulties which beset her than has
generally been supposed.
This material has proved to be extremely rich and abundant, especially
as regards the archives of Venice, Austria, Belgium and England. The
valuable papers formerly at Brussels have, it is true, disappeared,
but fortunately we are provided with transcripts of them in the Record
Office. And where the despatches of ambassadors, those of Giustinian,
Chapuys, Renard, Michiel, de Noailles, Surian and others, drop the
thread of the story, our own chroniclers, Stowe, Holinshed, Machyn,
Wriothesley, Foxe, etc., take it up, so that an almost continuous
narrative is formed, reaching from Mary’s earliest childhood to her
death.
I have endeavoured, where possible, to give the story in the words of
each individual ambassador or annalist, in order to preserve, if it
might be, the atmosphere of the times, in a manner unattainable by our
modern phraseology. In most instances, I have been careful to reproduce
even the eccentricities of the spelling in the English documents
quoted, but in others, where I have given somewhat lengthy extracts
from our chroniclers, the spelling has been modernised to avoid tedium.
It has not come within the scope of the present work to deal
exhaustively with Mary’s correspondence, and many of her most
interesting letters have been unavoidably omitted, preference being
given to those which relate to the more crucial points in her history.
One word may not be out of place here, as to the now fully recognised
necessity of bringing historical imagination to bear upon any period
under consideration; for unless we throw ourselves into the spirit,
the views, the interests of that period, we shall utterly fail to form
a correct notion of its merits and its short-comings. The thoughts
and opinions, the virtues and vices of the sixteenth century are not
those of our own day, and the only way in which we can form a just
estimate of them is by divesting ourselves of every preconceived
notion, and by judging each individual case according to the standard
which then prevailed. Whether, bearing this necessity in mind, and with
the colours at my disposal, I have succeeded in painting a picture
vivid enough to supersede the old traditional, but generally spurious,
portraits of Queen Mary, I must leave to the kind judgment of my
readers.
J. M. S.
APRIL, 1901.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
PAGE
BIRTH AND CHILDHOOD—EARLY MARRIAGE PROJECTS. 1516-1525 1
CHAPTER II.
PRINCESS OF WALES. 1525-1527 23
CHAPTER III.
THE BEGINNING OF STRIFE. 1527-1533 35
CHAPTER IV.
_VIA DOLOROSA._ 1533-1536 62
CHAPTER V.
THE GREAT RENUNCIATION. 1536 96
CHAPTER VI.
AFTER THE STORM. 1536-1537 131
CHAPTER VII.
THE DESIRE OF ALL EYES. 1537-1547 155
CHAPTER VIII.
THE KING’S SISTER. 1547-1553 187
CHAPTER IX.
THE COMING OF THE QUEEN. 1553 215
CHAPTER X.
AGAINST THE TIDE. July-December 1553 233
CHAPTER XI.
THE COMING OF THE KING. January-July 1554 270
CHAPTER XII.
PHILIP AND MARY. July 1554-August 1555 315
CHAPTER XIII.
THE MARTYRS. 352
CHAPTER XIV.
THE FORSAKEN QUEEN. 394
CHAPTER XV.
WAR. 1556-1558 430
CHAPTER XVI.
AT EVENTIDE. 1558 459
CHAPTER XVII.
_VERITAS TEMPORIS FILIA._ 476
APPENDIX 493
INDEX 525
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
1. THE PRINCESS MARY. From the original portrait in
the Gallery of the University, Oxford _Frontispiece_
2. KATHARINE OF ARRAGON. From a fine original
in miniature by Holbein, formerly in Horace
Walpole’s Collection at Strawberry Hill _To face page_ 46
3. SIR THOMAS MORE, LORD CHANCELLOR OF ENGLAND.
From the original portrait by Holbein " 74
4. THE PRINCESS MARY. From the original drawing by
Holbein, in the possession of the Marquis of Exeter " 136
5. THE PRINCESS MARY AT THE AGE OF TWENTY-EIGHT.
From the original painting in the National Portrait
Gallery " 186
6. FACSIMILE OF A LETTER WRITTEN IN THE PRINCESS
MARY’S OWN HAND " 192
7. THE PRINCESS MARY. From the original portrait in the
possession of the Marquis of Exeter " 212
8. QUEEN MARY. From the portrait by Sir Antonio More,
at Madrid " 262
9. PHILIP II. From the original portrait by Adrian
van der Werff " 320
10. CARDINAL REGINALD POLE, ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY.
From an engraving of a portrait painted by
Sebastiano del Piombo " 408
CHAPTER I.
BIRTH AND CHILDHOOD—EARLY MARRIAGE PROJECTS.
1516-1525.
It was characteristic of the times in which the Princess Mary was born,
that she should be ushered into the world with a pageant. England had
but lately been roused from the lethargy to which the penuriousness of
Henry VII. had condemned it, and good-fellowship, display and revelry
were the order of the day.
Music and masquerades delighted the young King, and were a fitting
background to his florid beauty, brilliant talents and sanguine
temperament. The country, in its recoil from the asceticism of
parsimony, no less than from the asceticism of mediæval piety, was well
content to amuse itself, and Christmas revels, April jollities and
May-day masques were supplemented by tilting at the ring, feasting and
tournaments, that made the whole year round a “playing holiday”.
But the desire of the nation was an heir to the greatness, wealth and
glory which the English people rejoiced to see centred in their eighth
Henry. Three times had their hope been doomed to disappointment, when
on the 19th February[1] 1516, Katharine of Arragon gave birth to a
daughter. The universal satisfaction was scarcely lessened by the fact
that the infant was not the longed-for prince, and in an ecstasy of
joy, the Londoners lighted bonfires, roasted oxen whole, and caused the
wine to flow merrily in the streets.
Two days later, the Princess, nearly the whole of whose life was
to be so great a contrast to its rosy dawn, was baptised with much
circumstance and pomp at Greenwich. From the palace gates to the
church of the Friars Observants, the well-gravelled path was strewn
with rushes, and hung with arras. At the great doors of the church a
pavilion covered with tapestry had been erected, and here the child
waited with her sponsors to receive the preliminary rites before being
carried into the sacred building. Then the procession was formed,
and swept through the grand entrance, only used on the most solemn
occasions.
The church was resplendent with cloth of gold, precious stones, pearl
embroideries, and tapestries from the famous looms of Europe. First
walked a goodly array of the nobility, preceding the silver font,
brought the day before from Canterbury,[2] and carried by the Earl
of Devon, supported by Lord Herbert of Cherbury. The taper was held
by the Earl of Surrey, the salt by the Marquis, the chrism by the
Marchioness of Dorset. The Lord Chamberlain followed, with the Lord
Steward on his right, and under a rich canopy, held by four knights,
was the royal infant, in the arms of the Countess of Surrey. On each
side of her walked the Dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk. The sponsors at
the font were the Cardinal of York (Wolsey), the Lady Katharine, sister
of the Prince of Castile (afterwards Charles V.) and the Duchess of
Norfolk. Immediately after the baptism followed the bishoping or rite
of confirmation, at which the Countess of Salisbury, the celebrated
Margaret Plantagenet, daughter of the Duke of Clarence, was sponsor.
By her descent from Edward IV. she was a near kinswoman of Mary’s, and
was appointed her governess or principal guardian, next to the king and
queen.
The _Te Deum_ was sung by the King’s chaplain, after which Mary’s style
was proclaimed by the heralds:—
“God give good life and long unto the right high, right noble and right
excellent Princess Mary, Princess of England, and daughter of our
sovereign lord the King,” etc.
The Venetian ambassador, Sebastian Giustinian, to whose letter we owe
the account of the royal christening, makes no mention of the King as
having taken part in the procession, but it is probable that Henry
witnessed the ceremony from the royal closet, which connected the
church of the friars with the palace. The chronicler also omits to say
by whom the sacraments of baptism and confirmation were administered, a
curious oversight, as the Archbishops of Armagh and Dublin, as well as
the Bishops of Durham and Chester, and the Cardinal-Archbishop of York,
were present.[3] When Giustinian congratulated Henry on the birth of
his daughter, in the name of the Council of Ten, adding, however, that
the Signory would have been better pleased if the child had been a son,
the King replied:—
“We are both young. If it is a daughter this time, by the grace of God,
the sons will follow.”[4]
Giustinian’s despatches are pæans in Henry’s honour. Who so renowned
as the King of England! He is not only “very expert in arms, most
excellent in bodily endowments” of every description, but he is also
adorned with mental accomplishments far beyond the average. And the
admiration of the envoy is not merely general, but detailed. Sagudino,
his secretary, writing from the court at Richmond, where he spent a
week, together with Giustinian, says that in the evening, they enjoyed
hearing the King play and sing, and seeing him dance, and run at the
ring by day, “in all which exercises he acquitted himself divinely”.
He spoke English, French and Latin, understood Italian, and played
almost every instrument. It was the prettiest thing in the world to
see him play tennis, “his fair skin glowing through a shirt of the
finest texture”. On hearing that Francis I., his great rival, wore a
beard, although it was not the English fashion, Henry allowed his own
to grow, and as it was of a reddish colour, he is described as having
“gotten himself a beard that looks like gold”.[5]
“Is the King of France as tall as I am?” he asked of Pasqualigo, the
Venetian envoy to the French Court, who had special instructions to
bring about a friendship between Henry and Francis, who was the sworn
ally of the Republic of Venice.
Pasqualigo answered diplomatically, that there was little difference
in height between them, although Henry was in reality much taller than
Francis.
“Is he stout?”
The envoy replied that he was not.
“What sort of legs has he?”
“Spare,” answered Pasqualigo guardedly; upon which Henry opened the
front of his doublet, clapped his hand on his thigh, and exclaimed:
“Look here, I have a good calf to my leg”.[6]
Pasqualigo was to return to France, and before his departure, Henry
took part in a tournament, in which he is declared to have looked
“like St. George on horseback”. Sagudino adds slyly, “the king exerted
himself to the utmost, that Pasqualigo might make a good report of his
prowess to Francis,” and he “never saw so beautiful a sight”.[7]
Henry’s love of learning, his knowledge of theology, his piety,
are still more praised. Were it not for the little saving-clause
concerning his jealousy of the King of France, and one or two youthful
indiscretions, one might ask in vain for a sign of human frailty. He
heard three Masses a day, when he hunted, and on other days, often four
or five. He followed Vespers and Compline every day in the queen’s
closet. Of the regularity with which he despatched business we have
still proofs, in the papers belonging to this period in the Record
Office.
But _corruptio optimi pessima_, and Wolsey is mainly responsible for
his degeneration, by exercising an almost boundless influence over
the King, to flatter his already inordinate vanity. The Venetians
were meanwhile so much dazzled by Henry’s brilliant qualities, that
they had little admiration left for the Queen. Sagudino dismisses her
with the disparaging remark, “she is rather ugly than otherwise,” and
the ambassador himself says, “she is not handsome, but has a very
beautiful complexion, is very religious, and as virtuous as words
can express”.[8] Gerard de Pleine, in a letter to Margaret of Savoy,
describes her as of a lively and gracious disposition, quite the
opposite of her sister, Joan of Arragon.[9] Her music and dancing were
admired, and it was said that she read, wrote and composed in English
much better and more correctly than half the ladies of her court. To
this Erasmus adds his testimony and says, “Katharine is not only a
miracle of learning, but is not less pious than learned”.[10] She was a
tertiary of St. Francis, and wore a religious habit under her ordinary
dress. Lord Herbert of Cherbury remarks on her virtue and sweet
disposition.[11] But to appreciate qualities such as the Queen’s needed
more than the rather superficial discernment of Giustinian and his
companions, who were so much struck with the pomp and glitter of the
English court, that its real worth almost escaped their notice. Erasmus
declared that in its serious aspects, it was “more like a museum than a
court”.
During the first years of their marriage, the King and Queen had
lived together in almost perfect happiness. Katharine was Henry’s
chosen adviser, the confidante of his state secrets, and the principal
negotiatrix between England and Spain.[12] We have Henry’s own words to
prove that the union was not a mere political one. In a letter written
in the highest spirits to Ferdinand of Arragon, the King declared
that his love for his wife was such that, if he were still free, he
would choose her again in preference to all others.[13] Of Katharine’s
wifely devotion to Henry there has never been any doubt. She adored
him, and thought him a paragon of perfection. But the birth of her
daughter threw Katharine henceforth into the shade, and Wolsey, by his
consummate state-craft, rapidly gained an ascendency over the King.
For years, Mary was the pivot on which the personal advantages of both
King and Chancellor turned, now in one direction, now in another.
Her title of Princess of England was equivalent to that of heiress
apparent, and thus from the moment of her birth, she became an
important piece on the chess-board of European politics. By effecting a
brilliant matrimonial alliance for her, Wolsey conceived that he would
enhance his master’s prestige among his contemporary sovereigns, and
pave the way for his own aggrandisement, always the _primum mobile_ of
his schemes.
Before she was a year old, Mary was provided with a household, and
Margaret, Lady Bryan,[14] a woman of sound sense and ability, was
appointed “lady maistress” over it. Her nurse, Katharine Pole, received
£26 in March 1517, being half a year’s salary. Her priest, chaplain or
clerk of the closet, Sir Henry Rowte, had a stipend of sixpence a day.
Alys Baker, a gentlewoman of her household, received £10 a year, and to
Avis Wood, her laundress, was paid the sum of thirty-three shillings
and four pence, as wages for six months.[15]
While still in her cradle, the Princess figured in a part she was often
called upon to play afterwards. Henry’s sister, the Queen Dowager
of France, being now married to Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk,
gave birth to a daughter, and Katharine and Mary were the child’s
godmothers. Dignity followed upon dignity, and before she was two
years old Mary was an important factor in the treaty by which Henry
VIII. ceded Tournay to the French for the sum of 600,000 crowns.
The peace between France and England had been brought about partly
through Wolsey’s increasing influence, partly (the Venetians flattered
themselves mainly) through the tact and diplomacy of Giustinian, sent
for that purpose back to England, and when a Dauphin was expected in
1518, Wolsey eagerly entered into negotiations with the French King,
for the purpose of contracting a union between Henry’s only daughter
and the hoped-for heir to the throne of France. Giustinian was,
however, not so much in Wolsey’s confidence in this matter as might
have been expected from the nature of his embassy to England, and some
time after the birth of the Dauphin he wrote: “The French secretary has
left, and is to be replaced by two great personages, to conclude, as
it is said, a marriage between the Princess Mary and the Dauphin. The
Cardinal will not admit this, but I am convinced of the truth of it.”
The secret soon oozed out, with the result that Mary was treated with
even greater respect and ceremony than before, being regarded not only
as heiress apparent to the throne of England, but as future Queen of
France also. The Venetian envoys, in reporting to the Doge an interview
which they had had with Henry and Wolsey, on the 28th February 1518,
conclude their account of the audience in these words:—
“After this, the Princess Mary, who is two years old, was brought in.
The Cardinal and Sebastiano kissed her hand _pro more_, the greatest
marks of honour being paid to her universally, more than to the queen
herself. The moment she cast her eyes on the Reverend Dionysius Memo,
who was there at a little distance, she began calling out in English:
‘Priest, priest,’ and he was obliged to go and play for her, after
which the King, with the Princess in his arms, came to me and said:
‘Per Deum iste est honestissimus vir et unus carissimus; nullus unquam
servivit mihi fidelius et melius illo; scribatis Domino vestro quod
habeat ipsum commendatum’.”[16]
Dionysius Memo was a musician, sent to Henry by the Doge as his
chaplain and choir-master. Henry’s love of music, which Mary inherited,
insured him a cordial welcome, and Memo took an important part at every
state function. On the occasion of a banquet given by the king to the
Austrian ambassador, to celebrate a league sworn between Henry and
his nephew Charles in 1517, there were amusements of every kind, but
especially instrumental music conducted by Memo, “which lasted for four
consecutive hours to the so great admiration of all the audience, and
with such marks of delight from his Majesty, as to defy exaggeration”.
Five days later, a joust with costly decorations took place, followed
by another banquet, at which no person was seated under the rank of a
marquis. Giustinian is dazzled with the splendour of the repast, and
the profusion of plate, the sideboard being covered with magnificent
vessels, said to be all of gold. This was one of a series of revels and
festivities, “but the chief dish” is always Memo’s music.[17]
On the 3rd October 1518, a general peace was proclaimed at St. Paul’s.
Mass was said by Wolsey with unusual pomp, and the terms of the treaty
between Henry and Francis were read before the high altar.
The King afterwards dined with the Bishop of London, going in the
afternoon to Durham House in the Strand. “From thence,” says the
Venetian ambassador, “the Cardinal of York was followed by the entire
company to his own dwelling, where we sat down to a most sumptuous
supper, the like of which, I fancy, was never given, either by
Cleopatra or Caligula, the whole banqueting-hall being so decorated
with huge vases of gold and silver, that I fancied myself in the tower
of Chosroes, where that monarch caused divine honours to be paid him.
After supper, a mummery consisting of twelve male and female maskers
made an appearance, in the richest and most gorgeous array possible,
all being dressed alike. When they had gone through certain original
dances, they took off their masks. The two leaders of the dance were
the King and the Queen Dowager of France. All the others were lords and
ladies of the court. They seated themselves at separate tables, and
were served with countless dishes of confections and other delicacies.
When they had gratified their palates they regaled their eyes and
hands, large bowls filled with ducats and dice being placed on the
table for such as liked to gamble. Then, the supper tables being
removed, dancing began and lasted till after midnight.”
On the 5th, the Princess Mary was formally betrothed to the Dauphin,
in the Queen’s great chamber at Greenwich. Henry stood in front of the
throne, having the Queen on his right, the Dowager Queen of France,
his sister, on his left hand. In front of her mother stood the baby
Princess, dressed in cloth of gold, a cap of black velvet covered
with precious stones on her flaxen head. Facing the royal group were
the two legates, Wolsey and Campeggio. Tunstal, Bishop of London,
made an eloquent oration in praise of matrimony, “which being ended,”
says Giustinian, “the most illustrious Princess was taken in arms,
and the magnificos, the French ambassadors, having asked the consent
of the King and Queen, on behalf of each of the contracting parties,
and they having assented, the right reverend legate, the Cardinal of
York, placed on her finger a small ring, _juxta digitum puellæ_, but in
which a large diamond was set, supposed to be a present from his right
reverend lordship above mentioned; and my lord admiral passed it over
the second joint. The bride was then blessed by the two right reverend
legates, after a long exordium from the Cardinal of York, every
possible ceremony being observed.” They then went to the royal chapel
within the palace, where the King and Bonivet, the French ambassador,
in the name of Francis I., exchanged oaths before the high altar, to
observe faithfully the articles of the treaty. The proceedings ended
with Mass, Wolsey being the officiating prelate. “The choir,” wrote
the admiring Venetian, “was decorated with cloth of gold, and all the
court in such rich array, the like of which I never saw, either here or
elsewhere.”
On the 16th, the King at the head of his council promised publicly to
fulfil the marriage contract when the Dauphin should have attained the
age of fourteen, his daughter being sixteen years old, and he desired,
if he failed in his promises that the Cardinal would excommunicate him,
and pass sentence of interdict on his kingdom. Mary was to have a dowry
of 100,000 marks, and Francis bound himself, under pain of the censures
of the Church, to contribute one as large as any Queen of France ever
had.[18]
At the French court, the betrothal was celebrated with no less
elaborate ritual, in which cloth of gold and silver, jewels, music,
flowers, feasting, compliments and promises played an important part.
No one wore any material less costly than silk. All the English
envoys had chains of gold about their necks, were attired in the most
sumptuous fashion, were praised, banqueted and amused for a whole week,
while the King showered gifts upon them. Never was marriage contract
celebrated with greater solemnity. The expressions of friendship
exchanged by the two Kings were profuse. Henry sent Francis the most
flattering messages; Francis doffed his cap, and kissed Henry’s letters
before opening them.
For a few months Henry seems to have considered himself bound by this
contract, or at least, to have seen no reason for breaking it. He told
Francis that if he should die without heirs male, he intended to leave
the regency of England to him, as it would belong to the Princess Mary,
who was to marry his son.[19]
One day, he showed Giustinian with much pride, his young daughter in
her nurse’s arms. The Venetian knelt and kissed her hand, “for that,”
said he, “is alone kissed by any duke or noble of the land, let his
degree be what it may; nor does any one see her without doffing his
bonnet, and making obeisance to her”. Henry then said: “Domine orator,
per Deum immortalem ista puella nunquam plorat,” upon which Giustinian,
with ready diplomacy, replied: “Sacred Majesty, the reason is that
her destiny does not move her to tears; she will one day be Queen of
France,” words which, he declared, “pleased the king vastly”.[20]
Nevertheless, as early as September 1519, steps were taken for
adopting another line of policy altogether, and for transferring Mary’s
hand to the Emperor, Charles V.
The news of the French alliance had greatly disturbed the Spanish
Ministry, for the Emperor’s political complications were many. The King
of France had become, through Charles’s successful candidature for the
empire, his implacable enemy. War was unavoidable, for it behoved the
emperor to secure his overgrown possessions, by every means in his
power.
Even alone, Francis constituted a formidable danger, on account of
his pretensions in Italy, but when allied to England, which, thanks
to Wolsey’s foreign policy, was fast emerging from the condition of a
third-rate power, he might threaten the dismemberment of the empire.
Moreover, money would be urgently needed to carry on the war, when
Francis should begin hostilities, and although Charles was already
pledged to marry the Princess Charlotte of France, he was also
negotiating a union with the daughter of the King of Portugal, by
which he would receive 80,000 crowns as her dowry. For the sake of his
empty coffers, he was prepared to sell himself to the highest bidder.
He demanded a million ducats with the Princess Mary. Wolsey offered
80,000, with the understanding that the sums already advanced by Henry
should be deducted therefrom, thus reducing the dowry to 50,000.
Charles was careful not to commit himself. In a pecuniary sense, the
Portuguese Princess was clearly the more desirable, but there remained
the necessity of breaking the Anglo-French alliance. A see-saw policy
was, therefore, his only alternative.
Meanwhile, Mary’s betrothal to the Dauphin was supposed to stand good,
and Charles continued his negotiation with Portugal. Francis was
well-informed by spies of all that went on, and Henry knew that he
knew, but all parties thought well to dissemble. When rumour became
too loud to be disregarded, and the fact of the correspondence between
Henry and Charles leaked out, Henry affected indignation, and warmly
protested his loyalty to the French treaty. Francis replied, with more
politeness than truth, that the King of England need not have troubled
himself to disprove the calumny, for he himself gave it no credence.[21]
In England, public opinion was in favour of the more brilliant
marriage. The nation had never looked with cordiality on the prospect
of a French union. Mary was the future sovereign of England; if she
married the Dauphin, a French monarch would one day be seated on the
English throne, an unpleasant humiliation for those who considered
France the rightful appanage of English kings.
Katharine also naturally inclined to the Spanish match. Although she
had thrown herself heart and soul into the habits, tastes and interests
of her adopted country, she retained a deep love for all that was
Spanish. She never forgot that she was the daughter of Ferdinand and
Isabella, and foreign ambassadors wishing to gain her favour would
address her in the Spanish tongue. Nothing was nearer her heart than
a marriage between her daughter and her nephew. In England, all were
eager for the union, but Charles held back, delaying his promised visit
to his relatives almost beyond the limits of courtesy. Henry was not a
little embarrassed, for while the imperial machinery was being slowly
put into motion, Francis, anxious to outwit his rival, had himself
proposed a meeting for the ratification of the marriage treaty. Henry
and Wolsey, on the horns of a dilemma, sought in vain to postpone
the interview indefinitely. Francis was bent on it, and various
dates having been objected to, in the hope that the project would be
abandoned, the 31st of May was at last fixed for their meeting. Whether
or no this action on the part of the French King had any effect on the
Emperor’s policy, Charles at once made up his mind, and landed at Dover
on the 26th. He was received by the Cardinal of York, and Henry, who
had awaited his arrival at Canterbury, rode over to meet him. The next
day being Whitsunday, he escorted him to the city of St. Thomas, “the
more to solempne the Feast of Pentecost; but specially to see the Queen
of England, his aunt, was the intent of the emperor”.[22]
What passed between these three royal personages and Wolsey did not
transpire. A further loan may have been effected, but the public
records are silent on the real object of the visit, and do not even
state, whether the bridegroom _in posse_ saw his proposed bride. On
the 31st, he re-embarked at Sandwich, and the King and Queen, with
Wolsey and a brilliant suite, crossed over to Calais. On landing, they
immediately proceeded to Guisnes, and the same day, Francis arrived at
Ardres, about six miles distant.[23]
Descriptions are not wanting of the empty splendours of Field of the
Cloth of Gold. The world had never before witnessed such a scene,
such fantastic devices, such jewels, such cordiality, such fraternal
affection between two Kings. Had Henry and Francis been brothers,
meeting after a long and painful separation, their joy at being
reunited could not have been more expansive. They met in a summer
palace of glass, hastily prepared for the occasion, but covered from
roof to floor with white fluted satin, and relieved by rich hangings
of cloth of gold, while pearls and precious stones of immense value
were strewn with oriental prodigality in every direction. Exquisitely
designed fountains ran wine all day, and feats of arms were followed by
costly banquets, at which all the grace and beauty of the two courts
were represented.
Religion and chivalry were still supposed to go hand in hand, and the
magnificence of the King’s temporary palace was only equalled by the
magnificence of his temporary chapel, where gorgeous functions took
place, and sermons were preached, in pompous language, on the blessings
of peace and amity between princes. The whole scene was a dazzling
epitome of the Renaissance. The two Kings parted seemingly on the best
of terms; Henry and Wolsey proceeded to Gravelines to meet the Emperor,
and the three went together to Calais, to plot against the host, at
whose hands Henry had just received such lavish hospitality.
Keen as was Francis’s eye to penetrate diplomatic mysteries, he does
not seem on this occasion to have fathomed the depths of Henry’s
capacity for intrigue, for he hovered about the frontier, vainly hoping
to be invited to join the conference at Calais. Henry had solemnly
declared to him that he entertained no purpose of espousing Mary to
the Emperor, and had sworn eternal friendship with him as his ally and
future son-in-law,[24] although the principal object of his pending
conference with Charles, was to discuss the means of transferring his
daughter’s hand from the Dauphin to the greatest enemy of France.
Meanwhile, the Princess Mary, the innocent object of these plots, was
still happily unconscious of her value in the eyes of politicians.
She remained at Richmond Palace during the absence of the court,
and Henry was kept well informed of her health and occupations. The
Duke of Norfolk wrote to him on the 13th June, that he and the other
members of the Council were, “on Saturday last,” with the Princess,
“who, lauded be Almighty God, is right merry, and in prosperous health
and state, daily exercising herself in virtuous pastimes”.[25] “On
St. Peter’s Even,” as the lords of the Council informed him, “came
the three gentlemen of France, of whose arrival they had notice
from the Cardinal, and on Saturday, after dinner, as the tide was
commodious, they being well accompanied by the lord Barnes, lord
Darcy, and another, visited the Princess, at Richmond. There were
with her,” they continue, “divers lords spiritual and temporal, and
in the Presence Chamber, besides the lady governess and her other
gentlewomen, the Duchess of Norfolk,” etc. They go on to say that she
“welcomed the French gentlemen with most goodly countenance, proper
communication, and pleasant pastime in playing on the virginals; and
they greatly marvelled and rejoiced at the same, her young and tender
age considered”.[26]
When we consider that this “_young and tender age_” represented but
four short years, we cannot but feel sorry for the small lady, obliged
to entertain visitors with “proper communication,” instead of amusing
herself with her “rosemary bushes with gold spangles,” her “gold
pomanders,” and other sixteenth century toys, which were continually
being brought to her as presents. The Princess’s _Household Book_
for 1520 informs us that she regaled those “gentlemen from France”
with “four gallons of Ypocras, with cherries, old apples, wafers, and
strawberries, the cost of which amounted to thirty-five shillings and
threepence”.
Tokens were constantly exchanged between the Dauphin and his _fiancée_.
In January 1521, Sir Peter Carew was sent over to Paris, to condole
with Francis I. on an accident he had met with, and to inquire after
his health. He took with him some rubies as presents, and the French
defrayed his expenses, and prepared “some scents and smocks” for him to
take back with him, as presents to the Princess.[27] According to the
existing arrangements, the Dauphin was to be sent over to England to be
brought up in this country when he was a few years old; but long before
the time specified, Mary had been solemnly affianced to the Emperor,
although her marriage-contract with the Dauphin was never annulled.
Until Mary was twelve years old, her health and education were the
subjects of Henry’s constant solicitude, and apart from the value he
set upon her as an important item in his political schemes, he appears
to have regarded her with affection, as long as there was room in his
character for natural feeling, or any sentiment unconnected with his
dominant passions. The care of her health necessitated her frequent
removal from one royal residence to another, as a precaution against
infectious disease, rendered necessary by the conditions of life in
England during the first half of the sixteenth century. The well-known
letter written by Erasmus to Wolsey’s physician, testifies to the
perpetual recurrence of the plague in this country, which was to be
attributed, the writer considered, mainly to the construction of the
houses, full indeed of windows, but as these were not made to open,
light was admitted into the dwellings, but no air. He complains of the
chalk floors and of the rushes laid thereon, but so carelessly renewed,
that the bottom layer often remained for twenty years, harbouring all
sorts of offal.
Writing in 1527, Erasmus says that thirty years before, if he entered
a room uninhabited for some months previously, he caught a fever. It
would have been well if some of the money lavished on the adornment of
the walls had been expended on the floors, especially as the habits of
the sixteenth century left much to be desired in point of cleanliness.
Some attention was, however, given to this matter in the royal palaces,
but it was of a kind that involved the removal of the court, whenever a
room was to be thoroughly overhauled; the result of disturbing rushes
upon which dogs had been fed and kennelled for months, and every kind
of refuse allowed to rot, may be better imagined than described. There
is little cause for surprise, therefore, if we hear constantly of
fevers, agues and of the sweating sickness, more deadly than the plague.
On one occasion, news was brought to the court that “one of my lady
princess’s servants was sick of a hot ague” at Enfield, whereupon Henry
ordered that Mary should be taken at once to Byssham Abbey, remain
there one day, and arrive at the More the day following. Even when the
servant recovered, Mary was not allowed to return to Enfield. In August
1520, we find that “my lady princess will be sent to Richmond again, on
account of the reports of the sickness at Woodstock”.
The excellent Lady Bryan having ceased in 1521, to occupy the position
of governess of Mary’s household, Secretary Pace wrote to Wolsey that
as the King intended leaving Windsor shortly, and as he would have no
convenient lodging for the Princess, he desired Wolsey to think of
some lady fit to give attendance on her. The King thought that the
old Lady Oxford would be suitable, if she could be persuaded, if not,
Lady Calthorpe, and her husband to be chamberlain to the Princess.
Accordingly, Lady Oxford was invited to occupy the vacant post.
Wolsey describes her as “right discreet, and of a good age, and near
at hand,” and she could at least “be tried for a season, if she did
not decline on the score of health”. Apparently she did decline, for
instead of Lady Oxford, we find Sir Philip Calthorpe and his wife
appointed to attend on the Princess, and govern her house, with a
salary of £40 a year.[28]
On the 29th July 1521, a commission was appointed to conclude a treaty
for Mary’s marriage with the Emperor for which a dispensation was to
be obtained from the Pope on account of their near relationship. This
treaty was concluded, signed and sealed on the 24th November of the
same year, on which day also, Francis I., writing to his ambassador
in London, remarks that the contract between the Princess of England
and the Dauphin is to remain in its entirety,[29] a curious satire on
the good faith of princes. Moreover, while Francis thus proclaimed the
peace and amity supposed to exist between himself and Henry, Charles
was stipulating with Henry for a descent to be made by the English on
the shores of France, not later than March, 1522. A fleet was to be
provided by both parties, each contributing 3,000 men. It would be
possible to regard Francis with some pity, as a miserable dupe, were
it not for his own propensity for the same amount of false swearing.
By February, he was in possession of the facts, but for some reason or
other, war was not declared till June. On the 6th May, Contarini, the
Venetian envoy, was able to inform the Signory of Mary’s approaching
betrothal to the Emperor, adding that Henry was about to send a
gentleman to France, to repudiate the French treaty.
On the 27th, Charles landed at Dover, and was received on the sands
by Wolsey, attended by 300 nobles, knights and gentlemen. Leaning
on the Cardinal’s arm, the Emperor proceeded to Dover Castle, where
he remained for two days, being joined by Henry. On the road to
Canterbury, and thence to Greenwich, they were greeted by the people
with every demonstration of joy, the English looking upon Charles as
the monarch of the world, and feeling flattered by his condescension
in wedding a daughter of England.[30] At the great gates of Greenwich
Palace stood the Queen and her daughter Mary, now six years old, to
welcome him. The Emperor dropped on one knee, and asked Katharine’s
blessing, “having,” says the chronicler Hall, “great joy to see the
queen, his aunt, and in especiall his young cousin germain, the lady
Mary”.
All who saw Mary at this time spoke favourably of her appearance. “She
promises,” said Martin de Salinas, “to become a handsome lady, although
it is difficult to form an idea of her beauty, as she is still so
small.” Others describe her as a fair child, with a profusion of flaxen
ringlets, and the admiration of all.
The usual revels were held in honour of the Emperor’s visit. The court
removed to London, and Charles was magnificently lodged at Blackfriars.
But he seems to have regarded the prodigality displayed with Hapsburg
seriousness, if not with absolute disapproval. He was urgently in need
of money, and would doubtless have been better pleased with a fresh
loan, than with all that was done in his honour. At all events, the
sombre stateliness of Windsor was more in accordance with his taste
and humour, and he was altogether in his native element when the terms
of the treaty were at last discussed. These included: (1) a settlement
of the differences between the Emperor and Francis; (2) a marriage
contract between the Emperor and the Princess Mary; (3) a league
between the Emperor and Henry for making war upon France, and for
recovering the territory which the English had lost in that country. A
clause was inserted, to the effect that Mary should be sent to Spain
to finish her education, when she was twelve years old.[31] The treaty
of Windsor was signed on the 19th June, but was not then published,
and “peace with France was dissembled”. Other things were dissembled
also; and, although Mary was brought to Windsor, to take leave of
her imperial cousin as his future bride, Wolsey soon discovered that
no reliance could be placed on the Emperor’s words or promises, and
that, as far as Charles was concerned, the whole negotiation and the
treaty of Windsor itself were nothing but a political fiction, in order
to alarm Francis. But indeed, in a competition of duplicity between
Charles, Henry, Francis and Wolsey, it would be rash to speculate as to
which of them would have borne the palm. Wolsey played a particularly
odious part, inasmuch as he not only convinced Francis that he was
anxious for the French alliance, but he was moreover in receipt of a
yearly pension from him. Meanwhile, the determination of the Princess
Isabella of Portugal to marry Charles served to further complicate
matters. She took for her motto the trenchant device, _Aut Cæsar aut
nihil_,[32] and the grandees of Spain threw their weight into the
scale with her, urging the Emperor to marry her, with whom he would
receive a million of gold, and not the English Princess, “about whom he
thought less than of the first named”.[33] Still Charles hesitated, or
affected to hesitate, and writing to Wolsey from Valladolid, the 10th
February 1523, he begs to have news of the King: “et de ma mieulx aimee
fiancee la Princesse, future Imperatrix”.[34] But much as Henry held
to the fulfilment of the contract, he had no longer any real hope of
it, and began to look for other possible alliances. It was thought in
France that the Dauphin would soon be crowned, and that then he would
marry the English princess,[35] but Gonzolles, the French ambassador
in Scotland, wrote to the Duke of Albany: “The King of England has
promised to give his daughter in marriage to the King of Scots, with
a large pension, and proclaim him prince of his kingdom if they can
agree”.
Henry would nevertheless have much preferred giving her to the Emperor,
if by any means Charles could be persuaded to keep to his engagements,
and he sent Tunstal, Bishop of London, and Sir Richard Wingfield, as
extraordinary ambassadors to Spain, with orders to promote the marriage
in every possible way.
In April 1525, Mary sent Charles an emerald with a curious message,
showing that she was still taught to consider herself his promised
bride. “Her Grace,” so ran the letter which accompanied the gift, “hath
devised this token, for a better knowledge to be had, when God shall
send them grace to be together, whether his Majesty do keep himself
as continent and chaste as with God’s grace she woll, whereby ye may
say, his Majesty may see that her assured love towards the same hath
already such operation in her, that it is also confirmed by jealousy,
being one of the greatest signs and tokens of hearty love and cordial
affection.”[36]
After the victory of Pavia, Charles, no longer in fear of Francis,
declared openly that he owed nothing to the help of his allies, and
released himself from his pledges to Henry by the very extravagance
of his demands. He sent a commission to Wolsey requiring that Mary
should be sent to Spain at once, with a dowry of 400,000 ducats, and
200,000 crowns besides, to defray the expenses of the war with France.
Nothing was said about the sums he had borrowed from Henry, while the
whole transaction was in direct violation of the terms of the treaty of
Windsor. The Cardinal replied that the Princess was still too young to
be given up, and that the Spaniards had no hostages to offer that could
be sufficient security for her, whom the English people looked upon
as the treasure of the kingdom. The envoys whom the Emperor sent in
return, in paying their respects to the King and Queen, were permitted
to address “a short peroration in Latin to the Princess, to which she
replied in the same tongue, with as much assurance and facility as if
she were twelve years old,” and she did and said, they added, “many
other gracious things on the occasion, of which they purpose giving an
account at a future time”.[37] But the moment for fair speeches and
compliments had gone by. Charles demanded that Henry should either
agree to his conditions, or release him from his oath, “for all Spain”
compelled him “to contract a marriage with Portugal”. Henry told him
roundly that he would give him his daughter when she was of proper age,
but no increase of dowry.[38] “If,” continued the King of England,
“he should seek a maistress for hyr, to frame hyr after the manner of
Spayne, and of whom she might take example of virtue, he shulde not
find in all Christendome a more mete than she now hath, that is the
Quene’s grace, her mother, who is comen of the house of Spayne, and who
for the affection she bereth the Emperour, will norishe and bring hyr
up as maybe hereafter to his most contentacion.”[39]
At the same time Tunstal and Wingfield represented that, as the
Princess was not much more than nine years old, it might greatly
endanger her health to be transported into an air so different from
that of England. In replying more particularly to the Emperor’s
statement, that his subjects wished him to marry the Portuguese
Princess, Mary being still of tender age, Henry, seeing that nothing
was to be gained by a breach with his nephew-in-law, told him that the
Princess his daughter was still young; she was his own treasure and
that of his kingdom; she was not of age to be married;[40] that the
demands of the Spanish people seemed reasonable, and that desiring
always to preserve the Emperor’s friendship, he consented to the
Portuguese alliance under three conditions. These were: (1) that
peace should be made with France; (2) that the Emperor should pay his
debts to Henry; (3) that the treaties of Windsor and London should be
annulled.[41]
The treaty of Windsor was rescinded on the 6th July 1525, and on the
22nd was signed the marriage contract between Charles V. and Isabella
of Portugal. But the Emperor did not pay his debts, and henceforth
no Spaniard coveted the post of ambassador to the English Court. To
console Henry for the failure of his schemes, Tunstal assured him that
Mary was “a pearl well worth the keeping”.[42]
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 1: According to some accounts the 18th.]
[Footnote 2: The servants of the Prior of Christchurch, Canterbury,
received £4 for carrying the font to and from Greenwich on this
occasion. Add. MS. 21,481. _The King’s Book of Payments_, Brit. Mus.]
[Footnote 3: Harl. MS. 3504, f. 232, Brit. Mus.]
[Footnote 4: Gius. Desp., i., 182, Venetian Archives.]
[Footnote 5: MS. in St. Mark’s Library, class vii., No. 1233.]
[Footnote 6: Gius. Desp., i., 90.]
[Footnote 7: _Ibid._, i., 77.]
[Footnote 8: Gius. Desp., i., 81.]
[Footnote 9: Brewer, _Letters and Papers of the Reign of Henry VIII.,
Cal._, i., 5203.]
[Footnote 10: Erasmus to Paul Bombasius (Brewer, _Letters and Papers_,
vol. ii., pt. ii., 4340).]
[Footnote 11: _Life of King Henry the Eighth_ (ed. 1649), p. 7.]
[Footnote 12: Add. MS. 21,404, 8, Brit. Mus.]
[Footnote 13: Egerton MS. 616, 35, Brit. Mus.]
[Footnote 14: She afterwards filled the same position in the household
of Henry’s other children, Elizabeth and Edward. See Ellis’s _Original
Letters_, 2nd series, vol. ii., p. 78.]
[Footnote 15: _The King’s Household Book_, March 1516-17.]
[Footnote 16: “Really, this is a very honest man, and worthy to be
loved. I have no better or more faithful servant. Write to your master
that I have spoken of him with commendation.” A curious instance of the
colloquial Latin then in vogue (Gius. Desp., ii., 157).]
[Footnote 17: Gius. Desp., ii., 95.]
[Footnote 18: Brewer, _Calendar of State Papers_, vol. ii., pt. ii.,
4687.]
[Footnote 19: Sanuto Diaries, vol. xxix., p. 155.]
[Footnote 20: MS. in St. Mark’s Library, class vii., No. 1233.]
[Footnote 21: He is reported to have said that he had “liever have my
lady princess, and though the king’s grace had ten children, than the
King of Portingale’s daughter, with all the spices her father hath”
(Cotton MS. Calig. D. viii., 40, Brit. Mus.).]
[Footnote 22: _Hall’s Chronicle_, p. 604.]
[Footnote 23: Sir Richard Wingfield had written from Paris that great
search was being made there to bring to the meeting the fairest ladies
that might be found, and he hoped that the Queen would bring such in
her hand “that the visage of England, which hath always had the prize,
be not lost” (Brewer, _Cal._, vol. iii., pt. i., 698).]
[Footnote 24: Rymer, xiii., 719.]
[Footnote 25: Cotton MS. Vesp. F. xiii., 129, Brit. Mus. Ellis’s
_Letters_, 1st series, i., 174.]
[Footnote 26: Cotton MS. Calig. D. vii., 231.]
[Footnote 27: Sanuto Diaries, vol. xxix., p. 558. In February 1520, £40
was given by Henry to a gentleman sent by the French King and Queen
with tokens for the Princess (see _The King’s Book of Payments_).]
[Footnote 28: Brewer, _Calendar of State Papers_, vol. iii., pt. ii.,
1437, 1439, 1533.]
[Footnote 29: Cotton MS. Calig. E. i., art. 11, 46, Brit. Mus.]
[Footnote 30: Brewer, _Cal._, vol. iii., pt. ii., 2306.]
[Footnote 31: Cotton MS. Galba B. vii., 102, Brit. Mus.]
[Footnote 32: Rawdon Brown, _Venetian Calendar_, vol. iii., 852 note.]
[Footnote 33: Sanuto Diaries, vol. xxxix., p. 147.]
[Footnote 34: Cotton MS. Vesp. C. ii., 93*, Brit. Mus.]
[Footnote 35: Cotton MS. Calig. D. viii., 302, Brit. Mus.]
[Footnote 36: Westminster, 3rd April 1525, Record Office.]
[Footnote 37: Gayangos, _England and Spain, Cal._, vol. iii., pt. i.,
p. 82.]
[Footnote 38: Sanuto Diaries, vol. xl., p. 17.]
[Footnote 39: Cotton MS. Vesp. C. iii., f. 177, Brit. Mus.]
[Footnote 40: Gayangos, _Cal._, vol. iii., pt. i., pp. 78, 191 _et
seq._ Brewer, _Cal._, vol. iv., pt. i., p. 662.]
[Footnote 41: Cotton MS. Vesp. C. iii., f. 62, Brit. Mus.]
[Footnote 42: _Ibid._, f. 135.]