THE BAILLY OF TROYES FRENCH AMBASSADOR IN ENGLAND (1533)
On the 3rd of February, 1533, the Bailly had reached Boulogne on his way
to England.
From Calais to Dover was then, as now, the more frequented passage; but
Boulogne being French territory, it sometimes happened that Frenchmen
selected that route in preference to the English one by Calais. On
arriving at Dover the ordinary traveller proceeded on horseback by
Canterbury and Rochester to Gravesend, whence the journey was generally
continued by water to London.
Occasionally, however, as with Chaucer’s pilgrims in the opposite
direction, the entire journey from Canterbury to London was accomplished
by road. This was especially the case if an official reception was
intended, when a cavalcade of notabilities would be sent out from London
to meet the arriving stranger and escort him to the city. On important
occasions the welcoming _cortége_ went the whole way to Dover. Such
was the case in 1527, on the arrival of the great embassy conducted by
Montmorency, Jean Du Bellay, and the Chancellor of Alençon.[132] But even
when lesser magnates were expected, much ceremony was observed in their
reception, if demanded by their office. Lodovico Falier, the incoming
Venetian ambassador in 1528, “was met first of all at a distance of
eight miles from the city by the ambassador Venier[133] and all the
Venetians; then, a little in advance, by a knight privy councillor, with
a good number of horsemen; and thirdly by another privy councillor, an
LL.D.; who all, one by one, paid the usual compliments in Latin in the
name of the King and Cardinal, on receiving him, and he performed the
like office by them in reply.” He next met “the ambassadors from France,
Milan, and Ferrara, and then the Grand Prior of St. John’s[134] with a
numerous retinue, he being a very great personage, the chief in London.
They all accompanied him with very great honour to his lodging in the
centre of the city, near that of the French ambassador,[135] a very
worthy person.”[136]
If such was the reception bestowed upon the ambassador of Venice, it may
be safely assumed that nothing less elaborate was prepared for Dinteville
at a moment when Henry VIII. was specially anxious to show civility
to France. It will be remembered, too, that the Bailly was already on
friendly terms with the Weston family and with the Knights of St. John,
which would add point to any part they might have to play in his official
welcome.
Winding through the narrow streets and between the closely-constructed,
gabled houses of the city of London, the cavalcade would presently reach
the quarter where the high steeple of old St. Paul’s rose high above
the surrounding buildings. But Dinteville’s journey was not yet ended.
Like his friend, La Pommeraye, he had been given apartments in the royal
palace of Bridewell.[137] Passing through Ludgate and over the Fleet
Bridge, the procession would now deflect southwards towards the Thames,
and, descending by the western bank of the Fleet, in a line approximately
represented by the modern Bridge Street, would draw rein before the
castellated façade of Bridewell.
The palace stood a little back from the river, on the western angle
formed by the junction of the Fleet with the Thames. The corresponding
angle eastwards was occupied by the great monastery of the Black Friars.
The city wall, which inclosed the latter, here curved abruptly to the
north within the line of the Fleet, leaving that small stream and the
royal house of Bridewell without its precincts.
Bridewell Palace was of long and irregular shape. The southern extremity,
flanked by two corner towers, formed the main front towards the Thames;
and was pierced by an entrance door abutting on the quay which separated
the house from the river. The buildings ran back some distance along
the western shore of the Fleet, and were divided into various groups
by courts and gardens. The latter were of considerable dimensions,
filling the opening on the east front overlooking the Fleet, and, on the
other side, covering the whole space between the palace and the next
street westwards running down to the Thames. The grounds had recently
been greatly enlarged by a piece of land acquired from the Knights
Hospitallers, containing no less than fifteen gardens, which were
“thrown down and inclosed in the king’s great messuage or manor, called
Bridewell.”[138]
The original foundation was of very remote origin. The palace was built
partly on the remains of an ancient castle, which in early days had
formed the western bulwark of the city of London. Though occupied from
time to time by various English sovereigns, from King John downwards,
it had fallen much out of repair when Henry VIII, took it in hand and
rebuilt it for the reception of Charles V. in 1522. After all, however,
the Emperor occupied apartments in the adjacent monastery of the Black
Friars. His suite only were lodged in the new palace, a covered bridge
being thrown across the Fleet, and an aperture pierced in the city wall
to give free access to the Emperor’s quarters.
Henry VIII. frequently resided at Bridewell, which is associated with
several interesting historical events. Hither, in 1528, Cardinal
Campeggio, ill with gout and fever, was carried through pouring rain,
when deputed to hear the divorce case, Wolsey riding at his side. The
palace on this occasion was “superbly decorated and filled with princes,
prelates and noblemen.”[139] The following year, 1529, Henry VIII. and
Katherine of Aragon were again at Bridewell, when the same interminable
question was being argued in the great hall of the Black Friars. After
the fall of Wolsey and sequestration of his property, the king preferred
York Place,[140] the confiscated residence of the see of York, which was
now incorporated with the Palace of Westminster. He could therefore well
afford to place Bridewell at the disposal of any foreign ambassador to
whom he desired to show peculiar favour.
It is amusing to find amongst Dinteville’s first proceedings on his
arrival in England, the importation of “thirty tuns of Gascon wine,”
the claret of to-day, which was conveyed to London by a ship called the
“Edmund,” of Lynn.[141]
Whether going westwards to visit the king at Westminster or eastwards to
see him at Greenwich, the river was the high-road by which the Bailly of
Troyes would reach his destination. The Thames was the main artery of
the traffic of London. Its busy wharves, laden with merchandise, each
with a flight of wooden steps descending to the water, the varied craft
which plied upon its surface, the many signs which announced the great
commercial centre, excited much interest in the minds of foreigners.
“London,” writes one of them,[142] “... is the residence of the
ambassadors and merchants; it is a very notable city situated on the
Thames, a magnificent river navigable for vessels of any burden, sixty
miles from the sea, and with a very strong tide. This river is convenient
for trade, embellishing the city, and rendering it cheerful, and over
it is a very large stone bridge.[143] London contains many houses on
either side of the river and two large churches of extreme beauty, in
one of which the present king’s father is buried.[144] In various parts
of the city there are many palaces of divers citizens and merchants,
but the larger ones and the most superb are on the river, the owners
being the chief personages of the kingdom. Besides the two belonging
to the king,[145] and one to the queen, the three dukes,[146] the two
marquises[147] and several bishops, have mansions there, each of them
worth 12,000 crowns, with very delightful gardens.
“The population of London is immense and comprises many artificers. The
houses[148] are in very great number, but ugly, and half the materials
of wood, nor are the streets wide. In short, I am of opinion, all things
considered, that it is a very rich, populous, and mercantile city, but
not beautiful....”
When an ambassador was invited to court, the king’s bargeman was
entrusted with the task of providing a boat, with eight or ten oars, at
the king’s expense. The guest was thus rapidly conveyed “from Greenwich
to York Place, Bridewell, and Westminster,” or whatever might be the
point of destination on the Thames. The charges made on these occasions
are still on record. One entry notes that “John Johnson, master of
the king’s barge, for conveying the French ambassador from London to
Greenwich and back in a boat of ten oars,” paid “each rower 8_d._, and
the master 16_d._, with 12_d._ for the hire of the boat.”[149]
The king had been eagerly expecting the arrival of the new ambassador,
being anxious to hear the report of Cardinals Tournon and Grammont from
Italy, before replying to a recently received Papal despatch. Montpesat,
who was awaiting the Bailly before departing himself, was even urged to
send a special messenger to hurry his successor.[150]
Parliament was, in 1533, opened by the king on the 4th February. A state
attendance followed at the House of Lords, to which several of the
foreign representatives were bidden. A day or two later, the Papal Nuncio
and the French ambassador were invited by the king to be present at a
sitting of the Commons. This time Montpesat, who left a few days later,
was accompanied by Dinteville, who had just arrived. On leaving the
Commons, the two Frenchmen, the Papal Nuncio, and the Duke of Norfolk,
with others of the Council, were “sumptuously banqueted” at the house of
Sir William Fitzwilliam, Treasurer of the Household. After dinner the
Nuncio had hoped to have audience of the king; but he was put off till
the next day, in order that Henry might first hear what the Bailly of
Troyes had to communicate.[151]
No doubt the report given by the latter was satisfactory to the king.
Early in January the two French Cardinals had joined the meeting at
Bologna between Pope and Emperor. Dinteville had been instructed to
inform Henry VIII. that their presence had produced an excellent effect.
As a consequence of their persuasions, Clement had consented to come
to an interview with Francis, planned by the two kings when at Calais.
It was hoped that by this means some good conclusion might be arrived
at in the affair of the King of England. For the present, however, his
Holiness desired that the project might be kept secret. The prospect
of an alliance between his niece and a son of the King of France had
doubtless contributed to elicit these dulcet accents from the Pope.
A further factor probably lay in his desire to draw both kings into
an Italian league then forming, with the co-operation of the Emperor,
against the Turk. To this, however, Francis declined his assent.[152]
Henry accordingly excused himself, in like manner, in the interview which
now took place with the Nuncio.[153] Venice, it may be added, at this
moment allied with France and England, gave a similar reply.
Yet, at the very moment when the Pope appeared to be in so affable a mood
he had but recently issued a brief threatening the King of England with
excommunication in case he should persist in putting away his first wife
and entering into a new contract.[154] Meanwhile, in January, 1533, Henry
had secretly wedded Anne Boleyn. The King of France, on his side, full of
the project of marrying his second son, Henri, Duke of Orleans, to the
Pope’s niece, Catherine de’ Medici, was absorbed in the achievement of
his own ends. That marriage, and indeed the proposed interview itself, so
Henry VIII. had understood, were to be held out as a reward to Clement
only if he acted as the two kings wished in the matter of the divorce.
The alliance of a Medici with a son of the King of France was considered
a sufficiently tempting bait. But Francis saw in the bribe a means of
drawing the Pope away from the Emperor, and quietly pursued his plans
without too much care for the real or supposed condition. To Clement,
apart from the brilliancy of such a marriage for his niece, it offered a
way of escape from all his difficulties, supposing he could slip out of
the hampering condition relating to the King of England’s divorce, and
thus avoid displeasure to the Emperor. Could he unite on his side both
Francis and Charles, he would be released from the painful position he
had so long occupied of a puppet tossed to and fro between the alternate
threats and caresses of the two great continental powers. The danger of
a schism in France would be averted. The friendship between England and
France would be much modified, if not altogether broken. To accomplish
all this, however, it would be necessary to offer a substantial
inducement to the King of France, who was closely bound to the English
king. Clement therefore entered into a secret agreement, as part of
the marriage contract, by which Francis was to acquire, by cession or
conquest, certain portions of Italian territory, including the Duchy of
Milan—that Fata Morgana for whose possession so much French blood and
treasure had already been expended in vain.[155]
It will thus be seen that each party concerned was playing a double game,
excepting the King of England. Whatever view be taken of his conduct, he
at least made no attempt to shuffle the cards beneath the table.
Meanwhile, glad to avail himself of the apparently softened mood of the
Pope to minimize the effect of the brief on his own subjects, Henry
lavished attentions on the Nuncio in England, in order that all the world
might see how amicable were his relations with the Papacy.
Such was the anomalous position of things when the Bailly of Troyes began
his residence in England. The history of the period has been sifted and
re-sifted by the most capable hands. It is not intended to dwell on it
here at greater length than is indispensable to the good understanding of
the public career of Dinteville, and of the task committed to his charge.
In the intervals of official business the French ambassador no doubt
found plenty of time to cultivate his private tastes. It would be
interesting to know how and where he first became acquainted with the
works of Hans Holbein, and was fired by the desire to sit to that
painter. The channels are numerous through which this may have taken
place. Several of Holbein’s early patrons, such as Warham, Archbishop of
Canterbury, and Sir Henry Guildford, Comptroller of the Household, had
indeed passed away since Dinteville’s first visit to England in 1531. But
Sir Thomas More, the first and most conspicuous protector of the artist,
yet remained. Nicolas Kratzer, too, the king’s astronomer, had been
painted by him in 1528. In a small society, such as that of the Court of
Henry VIII., it would have been difficult for anyone interested in art
to overlook a painter of the merit of Hans Holbein. The Duke of Norfolk,
and many others who ultimately sat to him, such as Thomas Cromwell, Earl
of Essex, Sir William Fitzwilliam, and Dr. Buttes, the king’s physician,
were acquaintances of Dinteville’s, and, though their portraits belong
to a later date, any one of them may have been instrumental in bringing
ambassador and painter together. Norfolk, especially, was on friendly
terms with the Bailly. The Duke corresponded with Montmorency, the
French statesman who found most favour in England at this period, and
doubtless for this reason extended special kindness to the cousin and
_protégé_ of his French friend. Again, the Duke of Norfolk was intimately
acquainted with Sir Thomas More, and a welcome guest at his house. More
was now living in retirement at Chelsea, but it does not seem unlikely
that by the Duke’s introduction, or otherwise, Dinteville may have known
him.[156] His house had long been the home of that type of learning with
which the ambassador was familiar through the French humanists. The fame
of its hospitality extended far beyond the boundaries of England. As
Roman Catholics, desiring liberal reforms of discipline but not of dogma,
the two men would also have much in common. If the Bailly of Troyes saw
at the house in Chelsea, not only the noble single portrait of More, but
the great family group which formed a corner-stone of Holbein’s fame, he
may well have been struck with the genius that could produce such works.
Nicolas Kratzer, again, may have been the medium of the introduction.
The keen interest in mechanics and geometry displayed by the Dinteville
family, their eagerness about every new instrument, would have been
certain to draw the ambassador to the society of this interesting
individual.[157]
Since Holbein’s return from Basle in 1532 his principal patrons had been
the German merchants of the Steelyard. The privileges granted by English
kings, from very early times, to the Hanseatic merchants of London, had
raised their ancient community to great wealth and influence. The large
scale of their commercial operations, and the facilities they enjoyed for
obtaining foreign news, lent additional importance to their position.
They had the right to appoint their own alderman.[158] Tradition tells
a good deal of the garden in Cosins Lane where men of all classes met
for business or recreation, discussing their affairs over the delicacies
imported by the merchants and the Rhenish wine the latter were here
licensed to sell. Sir Thomas More was said to be the author of one of the
couplets inscribed over the central door of their guildhall. Kratzer,
no doubt, was often here; Holbein, as we have seen, painted many of
the members. But apart from the social tradition, the Steelyard had
another aspect which has hardly been sufficiently thrown into relief by
writers on the subject. In the time of Henry VIII., when the knowledge
of German was very rare amongst the English, the Hanseatic merchants
were frequently called upon to take part in diplomatic negotiations as
interpreters. Sometimes they were required to accompany an English envoy
to the continent, sometimes to translate documents despatched to London.
Insensibly they were thus drawn into the political sphere, in subordinate
positions no doubt, but in a manner which accounts for the constant
mention of their community in the historical papers of the time, and
for a large measure of the consideration in which they were held. At a
moment when it was the common policy of England and France to cultivate
the friendship of the German Protestant princes, in opposition to the
Emperor—princes who were fully as ignorant of foreign tongues as the
English themselves—the services of the German merchants were naturally in
special request. It is quite possible that here also there existed points
of contact between Dinteville and the Steelyard.[159]
But surmise grows wearisome even when based on evident probabilities. By
whatever means the event was brought about, it is certain that the spring
of 1533 found Dinteville and his “intime amy,” the Bishop of Lavaur,
sitting to Holbein for the picture of the “Ambassadors.” George de Selve
came over on a visit to the Bailly by the express permission of the King
of France. For some reason his stay in England was to be concealed from
Montmorency.[160] It is therefore less than surprising that no notice
of it occurs in any English records. To keep all knowledge of the
event from Montmorency would demand a good deal of circumspection. The
coming and going of messengers between the Grand Maître and the French
ambassador in England was incessant. The leading Englishmen also, such as
the Dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk, stood in frequent relations with the
French side of the Channel.
At some time between February and Easter George de Selve arrived in
England;[161] at some time before the end of May he departed again.[162]
Whether any political object lay behind his visit to this country does
not appear. There is no evidence that it was inspired by other motive
than that of private friendship.
That much time and thought was bestowed on the composition and details
of the great picture for which the two ambassadors[163] were now sitting
is certain. Regarded in connection with the public and private career
of both Frenchmen, its parts work out with the precision of a Chinese
puzzle. As it is proposed to devote a special division to the details of
the picture,[164] it is unnecessary to dwell upon them in the present
chapter, but it is interesting to observe that they must have been to a
large extent suggested by Dinteville himself. The Bishop of Lavaur, who
was but a bird of passage, left England before the picture could have
been much more than begun. Presumably his portrait was completed, as was
frequently Holbein’s practice, from a drawing taken from life. But the
Bailly, who wearied of his protracted stay in this country, and whose
delicate health suffered from the climate, found no doubt in the progress
of this picture a constant source of entertainment and interest. Many an
hour which might otherwise have passed tediously, must have been devoted
to thinking out with the painter its elaborate details. In no other way
can the absolute harmony of its complex arrangements with the known life
and tastes of the principal sitter be explained.
Early in May the French ambassador had a rather sharp attack of tertian
fever. We hear of the Duke of Norfolk dining with him, and bringing the
king’s physician, Dr. Buttes, to advise upon his case.[165] Apparently
the treatment prescribed was successful, for he soon shook off this
particular illness.
Political events meanwhile were slowly progressing. The spring went by
in negotiations relating to the settlement of the Scotch quarrel, to the
proposed General Council, and, above all, to the coming interview between
Francis I. and the Pope, where it was settled that the Duke of Norfolk
should represent Henry VIII. The most important event which took place
in England was the appointment of Cranmer to the see of Canterbury, and
the king’s resolve that the English archbishop should now pass sentence
on his case. The Bailly of Troyes implored Henry to keep this intention
a secret until the Pope should have arrived at Nice. But this the king
declined to do. He intended to have his new queen crowned with all the
pomp of state at Whitsuntide, and wished the sentence made public at
once.[166]
The same courier who bore the despatch containing this information to the
King of France, conveyed a letter from Dinteville to his brother, the
Bishop of Auxerre. This document is so curious, both in its public and
private aspect, that it shall here be given _verbatim_.
It seems that there was a question at this time of sending the Bishop
of Auxerre on a second embassy to Rome, which explains the political
commission the Bailly requests him to undertake. The case stood thus:
Dinteville foresaw that the Pope would be very angry, and probably launch
his thunderbolts at once against the King of England, on hearing that he
had deliberately defied the Papal authority by causing sentence to be
pronounced in England. If it could be said, however, that the marriage
with Anne Boleyn had taken place by Clement’s own advice, secretly
tendered some time previously to the French ambassador at Rome, the sting
of the Papal anathema would naturally be removed, and an understanding
might yet be arrived at between England and Rome. Hence the ambassador’s
solicitude upon this point. For private reasons, however, he was much
opposed to his brother’s return to Rome, if it could be avoided. The rest
of the letter is interesting from the allusion to Selve’s visit, and from
the light it throws on the Bailly’s private pursuits.
“Monsieur,
[167]“J’ai receu vostre lettre escripte de Sommevoyre, par
laquelle me semble que me mandez que autrefoys avez dit aux
ambassadeurs de ce Roy, estans par de la, que aviez entendu
aux propos de nostre Sainct Père, que pour l’affaire de ce
dit Roy seroit meilleur le mariage fait que à faire. Si ainsi
estoit, seroit une chose qui grandement luy pourroit servir.
Je vous prie me mander, si d’adventure le pape ne se vouloit
gouverner de ce costé de deça autrement que à point, si je
pourroye bien advertir cedit Roy de ce dont m’en avez mandé,
et si pareillement quand les choses viendront bien avant, vous
luy vouldriez ramentevoir les propos qu’il vous en a tenu, en
lui disant que des lors les communiquastez aux ambassadeurs de
ce dit sieur Roy, voyant les affaires du Roy et les siennes
n’estre que ung. S’il vous plaist sur cela me manderez vostre
advis, lequel ferez bien de consulter ung petit avec nos amys,
et par adventure, avec Monseigneur le Grant Maistre et Monsieur
de Paris, car la chose est assés de consequence.
“Au reste, nous vous mercyons bien fort, Monsr. de la
Tournelle,[168] mon cousin et moy, des branches de vostre
if, que nous soubhaittez, vous advisant que ceans sommes bien
fourniz d’arcs de buttes et de maulvais archiers, et moy, pour
le pire.
“Je vous prie m’envoyer le portraict du compas auvale duquel
m’avez escript; car je suis bien empesché à comprendre la façon
de laquelle il est fait.
“Je commence bien à me fascher en ce pays ycy, en attendant
la fin des six moys, lesquelz escheurent le vingt deuxiesme
juillet. Monsr. le grant maistre m’a promis que n’y demoureray
que les dits six moys. Je prie à Dieu qu’il me tienne promesse.
J’ay eu la fiebvre tierce et y a long temps qu’en suis guery.
S’il vous plaist, divisez ung petit avec monsr. de Paris
pour mon retour. Je vous advise bien que je suis le plus
melancolicque fasché et fascheux ambassadeur que vistez oncques.
“_Monsr. de Lavor m’a fait cest honneur que de me venir veoir,
qui ne m’a esté petit plaisir. Il n’est point de besoing que
Mr. le grant maistre en entende rien._[169]
“J’ai eu des lettres d’Escoce de Monsr. de Beauvois.[170]
J’espère la trefve estre conclutte bien tost, et pour ung an,
antre ces deux princes.[171]
“Monsr. de Northfolrc partira d’icy à deux ou trois jours
pour s’en aller trouver le Roy. Je vous prie luy faire
congnoissance, car par deça son maistre vous tient en bon
estime et ancor le m’a il dit depuis huict jours.
“Quant aux autours, de quoi me mandez, me semble, ne sera que
despence de les envoyer, car ce Roy n’ayme point la vollerie,
et si en y a tout plain en ce Royaulme.
“Je ne puis entendre que si allez a Rome que ce soit pour peu
de temps. Et si vous m’en croyez, essayiez de tout vostre
povoir faire que ung autre ayt la commission. Je vous prie,
entendez bien à voz evocations.[172] Je ne puis trouver bon que
les laissez derriere.
“Il me tarde de savoir de vos nouvelles et que direz de la tour
et des tableaux.
“Monsieur, je me recommande humblement à vostre bonne grace;
prie à Dieu qui vous doint bonne vie et longue. A Londres, ce
XXIIIᵉ. may.
“Il me fault faire une grosse depense pour se couronnement.
J’en ay escript à monseigneur le grand maistre, luy suplient
me faire donner quelque argent par le Roy, pour y frayer. J’en
scaurois voulontiers des nouvelles. J’en ai escript aussy a
Monsr. de Paris qui vous en pourra dire quelque chose et me y
peult beaucoup ayder.
“Vostre humble serviteur
“LE BAILLY.”[173]
Dinteville’s wish with regard to his brother was fulfilled. The bishop
was not sent back as ambassador to Rome. What answer he made as to the
Papal remark inquired about, does not transpire. But it is curious that
Chapuys himself speaks of a report circulated some time previously, to
the effect that the Pope had given a “tacit consent” to Henry’s marriage
with Anne Boleyn; and that, from the time of Dr. Bonner’s return from
Rome, who was supposed to have been the bearer of this message, the
Nuncio, had appeared indifferent to the cause of Queen Katherine.[174]
The Bailly’s request for extra money to defray the expenses in which
he was involved by the coronation, was acceded to. A French Treasury
grant records a gift of 500 golden crowns made to Jean de Dinteville, to
repay him for the extraordinary expenses incurred by him when ambassador
with the King of England at the time of the coronation of Queen Anne
Boleyn.[175]