PRINCESS OF WALES.
1525-1527.
When Mary was about ten years old, her father, mindful it was said
of his Welsh origin, turned his attention towards that principality,
thinking wisely by redressing some of its grievances to reduce it to
a more strict obedience. It was, therefore, determined by the King in
Council, to send “our dearest, best beloved, and only daughter, the
Princess, accompanied with an honourable, sad, discreet and expert
counsayle, to reside and remain in the Marches of Wales and the parties
thereabouts, furnished with sufficient power and authority to hold
courts of _oyer_ and _determiner_, for the better administration of
justice”.[43]
Disappointed in his hope of further issue, Henry had, in a more special
manner than at her christening, declared his daughter heiress to the
Crown, and Princess of Wales, consoling himself with the conviction,
that her extreme popularity would be a sufficient counterpoise to
the somewhat hazardous novelty of a queen regnant. The news of her
departure for the west was communicated to the Venetian Government by
Lorenzo Orio in August, 1525:—
“On Saturday, the Princess went to her principality of Wales, with
a suitable and honourable escort, and she will reside there until
the time of her marriage. She is a rare person, and singularly
accomplished, most particularly in music, playing on every instrument,
especially on the lute and harpsichord.”[44]
The term borders or marches of Wales was somewhat loosely applied,
and “the parties thereabouts” seem to have included the whole of the
south-western, and some of the midland counties, for we find Mary
during this time not only at Chester and Shrewsbury, but also at
Tewkesbury and Gloucester. A great deal of power was put into the hands
of her council, with the means of enforcing their decrees, but the
details of her short sojourn in the west are very meagre, and we are
entirely dependent on a few sidelights, to show the kind of authority
that was centred in her person, and the amount of state that was kept.
This last was indeed considerable. A communication from her council to
Sir Andrew Windsor, Sir John Dauncy and Sir William Skeffington, refers
them to the King’s pleasure, “touching such ordnance and artillery
as should be delivered for the Princess into the marches of Wales,
and for despatching the payments for carriage by land or water. They
desire that the two gunners, John Rauffe and Laurence Clayton, and
the armourer, William Carter, now being the Princess’s servants, may
have livery coats of the Princess’s colours.”[45] What those colours
were may be learned from a letter of Wolsey’s to Sir Andrew Windsor,
authorising him to deliver to Dr. Buttes, “appointed physician to my
lady Princess, a livery of blue and green in damask, for himself, and
in blue and green cloth for his two servants; also a cloth livery for
the apothecary”. On the margin of a document, in which are inscribed
the names of all the ladies and gentlemen who accompanied the Princess,
is a memorandum, signed by Wolsey, relating to the quantity of black
velvet to be allowed and delivered to each. Those of inferior rank were
to have black damask.
Mary’s head-quarters were at Ludlow, but she travelled constantly
from place to place, visiting all the more accessible parts of the
principality, and the surrounding country. On the 3rd September 1526,
she was at Langley, as we learn from a letter addressed to Wolsey from
that place:—
“My lady Princess came on Saturday. Surely, Sir, of her age, as goodly
a child as ever I have seen, and of as good gesture and countenance.
Her Grace was well accompanied with a goodly number of persons of
gravity.”[46]
These “persons of gravity” included, besides councillors, chamberlains,
clerks, surveyors, etc., the Countess of Salisbury, the Countess of
Devon, Lady Katharine Grey, Dr. Wootton, Dean of the Chapel; Mr. John
Featherstone, schoolmaster, and many others, amounting in all to 304
persons, of the most honourable sort.
Mary had authority to kill or give deer at her pleasure, in any forest
or park within the territory appointed to her, and her warrants were
served under pain of the King’s indignation.[47] Careful directions
had been given by the King in Council, concerning her own training,
health, clothing, food and recreation, for all of which the Countess
of Salisbury was primarily responsible. She was “to take open air in
gardens, sweet and wholesome places, and walks,” and everything about
her was to be “pure, sweet, clean and wholesome,” while “all things
noisome and displeasant” were to be “forborne and excluded”. Great
attention was to be paid to her food, and to the manner in which it
was served, with cheerful society, “comfortable, joyous and merry
communication, in all honourable and virtuous maner”. Her council was
to meet once a month, at least, and to consult on her health, virtuous
education, etc., “taking into communication my lady Governess, and
the Princess if expedient”.[48] Mr. Featherstone was to instruct her
in Latin, in the place of the Queen, who had hitherto undertaken this
branch of her studies. Shortly before going to Wales, Mary had received
a letter from her mother, in which, after expressing her trouble at the
long absence of the King, and of her daughter, and assuring her that
her health is “meetly good” and that she rejoices to hear that Mary’s
own health is mended, Katharine goes on to say:—
“As for your writing in Latin, I am glad that ye shall change from me
to master Federston, for that shall do you much good to learn by him
to write aright. But yet sometimes I would be glad when ye do write to
master Federston of your own inditing, 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, and so I pray you to recommend me to my
lady of Salisbury.”[49]
Katharine had spared no pains in the education of her daughter,
basing it upon a solid foundation of piety, and imparting a taste for
learning, which helped to support Mary in the dark days to come. The
celebrated Ludovicus Vives had already contributed to her instruction
before her departure into Wales, and on her return continued to direct
one branch of her studies. In 1524 he had dedicated to the Princess
213 symbols or mottoes, with paraphrases upon each. The first one
was called _Scopus Vitæ Christus_, and the last _Mente Deo defixus_,
“and these,” says a contemporary writer, “the Princess seemed to have
in perpetual memory, by the practice of her whole life, for she made
Christ the beginning and end of all her actions, from whose goodness
all things do proceed, and to whom all things do tend, having a most
lively example in her virtuous mother”.[50]
The list of Latin works proposed by Vives, and in which Mary soon began
to delight, is startling from the profound character of the subjects
chosen. Among these works were the _Epistles of St. Jerome_, the
_Dialogues of Plato_, “particularly,” observes Sir Frederick Madden,
“those of a political turn”;[51] the works of Cicero, Seneca, Plutarch,
St. Ambrose, St. Augustine, St. Thomas, and other equally serious books.
That her mind responded to this severely classical and religious
training, is evident from the remarks scattered about the
correspondence of the more or less distinguished personages who at
different times came in contact with her. Her own countrymen were not a
little proud of her talents. Lord Morley, in the preface to his book,
_A New-Year’s Angelical Salutation by Tho. Aquine_, which he presented
to Mary as a New-Year’s gift, mentions the translation of a prayer
by St. Thomas which she had made. “I do remember,” he says, “that
skante ye were come to xij. yeres of age, but that ye were so rype in
the Laten tongue that rathe doth happen to the women sex, that your
grace not only could perfectly rede, wright and construe Laten, but
furthermore translate eny harde thing of the Laten in to our Inglysshe
tongue, and among all other your most vertuous occupacions, I have seen
one prayer translated of your doing of Sayncte Thomas Alquyne, that I
do ensuer your grace is so well done, so near to the Laten, that when
I loke upon it, as I have one of the exemplars of yt, I have not only
mervell at the doinge of it, but further for the well doing, have set
yt as well in my boke or bokes, as also in my pore wyfe’s, your humble
beadeswoman, and my chyldern, to gyve them occasion to remember to
praye for your grace.“[52]
The Princess of Wales had not long to maintain the vice-regal dignity
in the west. Fresh schemes were on foot for disposing of her in
marriage, and her presence was required at court.
After his disastrous defeat at Pavia, the news of which he communicated
to his mother in the famous words, “_Tout est perdu fors l’honneur_,”
Francis I. had been taken captive to Madrid, from whence he only
escaped by submitting to the most suicidal conditions, leaving his
two eldest sons as hostages in the hands of the Emperor. But having
signed the treaty of Madrid as a prisoner, and being therefore no free
agent, he was scarcely likely to consider its terms binding. One of its
stipulations was that he should marry the Emperor’s sister, Eleanor,
Dowager Duchess of Austria, but this he had no intention of doing,
provided he could regain possession of his children by any other means.
In the perpetual game of see-saw played by the three principal
monarchs of Christendom, with a constant change of partners, it is not
surprising to find Francis now looking towards England for a way out of
his difficulties. He had contrived to form a league against Charles,
consisting of the Pope, the Swiss, the Venetians, and the Florentines;
and if England could be persuaded to join it, this league would be
strong enough to defy the Emperor, and France might not only regain her
lost possessions, but dictate the terms of peace.
But Henry and Wolsey had no particular interest in making things
pleasant for Francis, whose overtures met with no eager response. It
was not clear to the King or his Chancellor what advantage would be
derived by them from an alliance with Francis.
“This king will not spend money to make an enemy of his friend, and
gain nothing,” replied the astute Wolsey to the Venetian, Gasparo
Spinelli, and he assured him that England would not join the league,
unless his most Christian Majesty first undertook to restore Boulogne,
and to marry the Princess Mary.[53]
But France had suffered too many humiliating losses willingly to give
up so important a place, and later, when Henry sent a special envoy to
negotiate a marriage between Mary and Francis, all mention of Boulogne
was dropped.
It would seem incredible, but for authentic evidence, that Henry should
have seriously entertained the notion of bestowing on a middle-aged
profligate such as the King of France, whose actual life would not
bear investigation, the young daughter whom he professed to love and
cherish, as “the pearl of the world”. Nevertheless, for a time at
least, his mind was fixed on this purpose, and Wolsey was never more
keenly alive to his own interests than in the fabrication of this
delicate piece of diplomacy. Francis was equally in earnest, on account
of his impatience to take reprisals on the Emperor, and the Queen
mother, Louise of Savoy, told the English ambassadors that her son had
long been anxious to marry their Princess, “both for her manifold
virtues and other gay qualities, which they assured them were not here
unknown”.
The next step was to send ambassadors to England to treat of the
marriage. These were the Bishop of Tarbes, afterwards Cardinal
Grammont, first president of the Parliament of Toulouse, the Vicomte
de Turenne, and La Viste, president of the Parliament of Paris. They
were instructed by Francis to go straight to the Princess Mary,
visit and salute her in his name, and to express his “sore longing
to have her portraiture”. Hereupon, Henry sent Francis his own and
Mary’s picture,[54] assuring him that he was much obliged to him for
condescending to take his little daughter, who did not deserve such
honour.[55]
The Venetians looked upon the marriage as certain, and thought that
war would be waged in consequence, in every direction;[56] but the
more general opinion in Europe was that Henry would not succeed in a
matrimonial alliance with any foreign potentate, but that the English
would insist on having a king of their own, and would not suffer a
foreigner to sit upon the throne.[57]
“In time of war,” said the Archbishop of Capua to Charles V., “the
English made use of their Princess as they did of an owl, as a decoy
for alluring the smaller birds.” The Emperor, not understanding the
allusion, asked the Archbishop what he meant by “owl,” and when it was
explained to him laughed heartily.
Meanwhile, the French envoys saw the Princess, on St. George’s Day
(1527). She spoke to them in French and Latin, and was made to display
her achievements in writing and on the harpsichord. Spinelli wrote
that a solemn betrothal had taken place at Greenwich, when the Bishop
of Tarbes had delivered an oration, after which he and the Vicomte
de Turenne had dined with the King, the others dining apart. At the
end of dinner they went to the Queen’s apartments, where the Princess
danced with de Turenne, who considered her very handsome, and admirable
by reason of her great and uncommon mental endowments, but so thin,
spare and small, as to render it impossible for her to be married for
the next three years.[58] A succession of jousts and masks of the most
dazzling description followed. Spinelli, in relating the brilliant
course of entertainments, says of one in particular:—
“Thereupon there fell to the ground at the extremity of the hall, a
painted canvas from an aperture, in which was seen a most verdant cave
approached by four steps, each side being guarded by four of the chief
gentlemen of the Court, clad in tissue doublets and tall plumes, each
of whom carried a torch. Well grouped, within the cave, were eight
damsels of such rare beauty, as to be supposed goddesses rather than
human beings. They were arrayed in cloth of gold, their hair gathered
into a net, with a very richly jewelled garland surmounted by a velvet
cap, the hanging sleeves of their surcoats being so long, that they
well-nigh touched the ground, and so well and richly wrought as to be
no slight ornament to their beauty. They descended gracefully from
their seats to the sound of trumpets, the first of them being the
Princess, with the Marchioness of Exeter. Her beauty in this array
produced such effect on everybody, that all the other marvellous sights
previously witnessed were forgotten, and they gave themselves up solely
to contemplation of so fair an angel. On her person were so many
precious stones, that their splendour and radiance dazzled the sight,
in such wise as to make one believe that she was decked with all the
gems of the eighth sphere. Dancing thus, they presented themselves to
the King, their dance being very delightful by reason of its variety,
as they formed certain groups and figures most pleasing to the sight.
Their dance being finished, they ranged themselves on one side, and
in like order, the eight youths, leaving their torches, came down from
the cave, and after performing their dances, each of them took by the
hand one of those beautiful nymphs, and having led a courant together,
for a while returned to their places. Six masks then entered. To
detail their costume would be but to repeat the words ‘cloth of gold,’
‘cloth of silver,’ etc. They chose such ladies as they pleased for
their partners, and commenced various dances, which being ended, the
King appeared. The French ambassador, the Marquis of Turrenne (_sic_),
was at his side, and behind him four couples of noblemen all masked,
and all wearing black velvet slippers on their feet, this being done
lest the King should be distinguished from the others, as from the
hurt which he received lately when playing at tennis, he wears a black
velvet slipper. They were all clad in tissue doublets, over which was
a very long and ample gown of black satin, with hoods of the same
material; and on their heads caps of tawney velvet. They then took by
the hand an equal number of ladies, dancing with great glee, and at the
end of the dance unmasked, whereupon, the Princess with her companions
again descended, and came to the King, who in the presence of the
French ambassadors, took off her cap, and the net being displaced,
a profusion of silver tresses, as beautiful as ever seen on human
head, fell over her shoulders, forming a most agreeable sight. The
aforesaid ambassadors then took leave of her, and all departing from
that beautiful place, returned to the supper hall, where the tables
were spread with every kind of confection and choice wines, for all who
chose to cheer themselves with them. The sun I believe greatly hastened
his course, having perhaps had a hint from Mercury of so rare a sight;
so showing himself already on the horizon, warning being thus given of
his presence, everybody thought it time to quit the royal chambers,
returning to their own with such sleepy eyes, that the daylight could
not keep them open.”[59]
Little progress was, however, made with the negotiations. Compliments
flowed freely on both sides, but did not advance matters, and Wolsey
determined to seek an interview with Francis, bring the affair to a
crisis, and settle certain other matters which had lately supervened,
to complicate immeasurably the tangled politics of Europe. One of
these was the sack of Rome by the imperial army, and the consequent
imprisonment of the Pope and the whole College of Cardinals, in the
Castle of St. Angelo. Another, which more immediately concerned
England, was known as yet but to a chosen few as “the king’s secret
matter,” but which was ultimately to inflame the whole of Christendom.
Wolsey was flattered, courted and feared by all the powers. He was
at once the most brilliant, the most daring and the least scrupulous
diplomat in Europe. His boundless ambition was easily entertained by
the notion that the Papal authority might be delegated to himself,
during the Pope’s captivity, and that thus by one swing of the
pendulum, he might be raised to the highest dignity on earth. This one
swing of the pendulum was to be effected by a promise, that if Henry
secured his election, he would, as Pope, pass a decree in favour of
“the king’s secret matter”.[60]
But before this dream could be realised, Francis must be won over to
the scheme of his candidature, and the votes of the French cardinals
secured. Francis, bent only on checkmating the Emperor, was fascinated
with the idea of marrying the English princess, and of drawing England
into the league against Charles; and Wolsey, ever tactful, kept his own
plans in the background, until the royal suitor should be satisfied.
The Cardinal of York and the French King were to meet at Amiens, and
the moment that Wolsey set foot in France he received from the King
a commission, authorising him to pardon and liberate under his own
letters patent, such prisoners as he chose, in the towns through which
he passed, except those committed for treason, murder, and similar
crimes. After their first interview, the Cardinal wrote an account
to Henry of all that had passed between them. Francis had spoken of
Mary as “the cornerstone of the new covenant,” “and I,” added Wolsey,
“being her godfather, loving her entirely, next unto your Highness, and
above all other creatures, assured him that I was desirous she should
be bestowed upon his person, as in the best and most worthy place in
Christendom”.
Francis coveted the honour of possessing the Garter, and his hint to
that effect was ingenious, if somewhat broad. Taking hold of the image
of St. Michael, which he wore on his neck, he said to Wolsey:—
“Now the King, my brother, and I be thus knit and married in our hearts
together, it were well done, it seemeth, that we should be knit _par
colletz et jambes_”.[61]
It was becoming more and more evident that the only hope for France was
in a speedy alliance with England. The Bishop of Tarbes, on his return
from his embassy to solicit Mary’s hand for his master, contributed
his meed of praise, assuring Francis that the Princess was “the pearl
of the world,” and “of such beauty and virtue that the King of England
esteemed her more than anything on earth”.
“I pray you, repeat unto me none of these matters,” interrupted Francis
impatiently. “I know well enow her education, her form, her fashion,
her beauty and virtue, and what father and mother she cometh of;
expedient and necessary it shall be for me and for my realm that I
marry her, and I assure you for the same cause, I have as great a mind
to her as ever I had to any woman.”
Nevertheless, the alliance with England was not to be in this wise. The
army, consisting of 30,000 men, which Francis had sent into Italy under
Lautrec, had suffered a humiliating defeat before Naples, and the loss
of a second army at Landriano obliged him to conclude with Charles the
disastrous treaty of Cambrai, by which he was forced to pay 2,000,000
of gold crowns in lieu of Burgundy. Four marriages were to ensue. The
King of France was to fulfil his promise to the Emperor’s sister; the
Dauphin was to marry the Infanta of Portugal; the son of the Duke of
Lorraine was affianced to the Princess Madeleine, daughter of the King
of France, whose second son, the Duke of Orleans, was betrothed to Mary.
The marriage contract between Mary and the Duke of Orleans, signed and
sealed by Francis I., and illustrated with their portraits, was dated
18th August 1527, and is still preserved in the Record Office.[62]
This interesting document is beautifully illuminated on vellum, with a
gold background and a border composed of Tudor roses, _fleurs de lys_
and cupids. Francis I., representing the god Hymen, in a dress of the
period, holds a hand of the bride and of the bridegroom. The arms of
England and France are on either side of him. The Princess Mary, a
youthful figure in a white dress covered with flowers, and wearing a
blue coif with a gold border, stands on the left of Francis; the Duke
of Orleans, a young boy in doublet and trunk hose, is on his right.
The peace, thus momentarily secured at the cost of immense sacrifices
on the part of France, afforded a brief space in which to prepare for
a fresh outbreak of hostilities. Francis and Henry were henceforth
allies, and the course of affairs in England tended to cement their
bond, and to widen the breach between them and the house of Austria.
Henry sent Francis the Garter, and received the order of St. Michael in
exchange.[63]
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 43: Harl. MS. 6807, f. 3, Brit. Mus.]
[Footnote 44: Sanuto Diaries, vol. xxxix., p. 356.]
[Footnote 45: Reading Abbey, 18th August 1525, Record Office.]
[Footnote 46: Sampson to Cardinal Wolsey. Cotton MS. Titus B. i., 314,
Brit. Mus.]
[Footnote 47: R. Brereton of Chester to W. Brereton, Groom of the
King’s Privy Chamber, 25th August 1526, Record Office.]
[Footnote 48: Cotton MS. Vit. C. i., f. 36, Brit. Mus.]
[Footnote 49: Cotton MS. Vesp. F. xiii., f. 72, Brit. Mus. Mary wrote a
beautiful, firm, and clear hand, a specimen of which is reproduced at
page 192 of this volume.]
[Footnote 50: _The Life of Jane Dormer, Duchess of Feria_, by Henry
Clifford. Transcribed from the ancient MS. in the possession of Lord
Dormer by Canon Estcourt, and edited by the Rev. Joseph Stevenson, p.
82.]
[Footnote 51: _Privy Purse Expenses of the Princess Mary_, Introductory
Memoir.]
[Footnote 52: For this prayer and Mary’s translation see Appendix A.]
[Footnote 53: Sanuto Diaries, vol. xliii., p. 55. Spinelli to the Doge,
11th Sept. 1526.]
[Footnote 54: Masters’ MS., f. 113.]
[Footnote 55: Dodieu’s _Narrative_.]
[Footnote 56: Sanuto Diaries, vol. xliv., p. 97.]
[Footnote 57: This view proved to be the more correct, when,
twenty-seven years later, a formidable insurrection was raised to
prevent Mary’s marriage with Philip of Spain.]
[Footnote 58: Sanuto Diaries, vol. xlv., pp. 194-198.]
[Footnote 59: _Venetian Calendar_, vol. iv., 105.]
[Footnote 60: Wolsey to Henry VIII., State Papers, i., 205, 206, 207,
230, 231, 270, R.O.]
[Footnote 61: Brewer, _Cal._, vol. iv., pt. ii., 3350.]
[Footnote 62: Diplomatic Contracts, box 39, No. 1112, Record Office.]
[Footnote 63: Sanuto Diaries, vol. xlvi., p. 118.]