CHAPTER IV

THE DUCHESS REPUDIATES HER SUITOR AND THE PRINCESS BREAKS HER

CONTRACT

Henry had arranged with Margaret that the marriage of Mary and the

Prince should take place at Calais in six months' time, on May 15, and

for that purpose he began making arrangements on his usual splendid

scale on his return from Flanders. What Mary had been doing during the

months of her brother's absence can only be conjectured. Probably she

had been busy like Queen Katharine, sewing banners and ensigns for the

army to be sent against the Scots. She did not accompany her

sister-in-law when she moved further North, just before Flodden. There

is hardly a mention of her in any of the few letters of the year. Once

she wrote to Margaret of Savoy thanking the duchess for some patterns of

Flemish gowns, and once she received a formal letter from the Prince. On

Twelfth Night (1514) at Richmond there was the usual disguising and

play, and a lady called Beauty, and one called Venus, clad in surcoat

and mantle of yellow sarcenet, with hearts and wings of silver,

delighted the Court. The piece was, as usual, allegorical, and possibly

the ladies represented the Duchess of Savoy and the Lady Mary. There is

no mention of the Princess by name, but, following her custom and that

of her brother, they were both probably among the mummers.

[Illustration: MARGARET, COUNTESS OF RICHMOND PAINTER UNKNOWN.

NATIONAL PORTRAIT GALLERY]

Mary had now reached her full height, and was short for a Tudor, though

the English head-dress added about three inches to her stature, and

plump like her mother. Gerard de Pleine, writing to his mistress at

Malines, describes her as one of the prettiest girls he had ever seen or

hoped to see. "She has the most gracious and elegant carriage in

conversation, dancing, or anything else that it is possible to have, and

is not a bit melancholy, but lively. I am convinced that if you had once

seen her you would not cease till you had her near you. I assure you she

has been well brought up, and she must always have heard Monsieur well

spoken of, for by her words and manner, and also from those who surround

her, it seems to me she loves him wonderfully. She has a picture of him,

very badly done, but there is no day in the world but they tell me she

wishes to see him ten times a day, and if you want to please her, you

must talk of the prince. I should have thought she had been tall and

well developed, but she will be only of medium height, and seems to me

much better suited both in age and person for Monsieur than I had heard

tell before I saw her, and better than any princess that I know of in

Christendom. She is quite young, and in two years she will hardly be as

ripe as Likerke or Fontaine. I can only say again that in good-nature,

beauty and age, the like does not exist in Christendom."[194] For five

years she had been Princess of Castile in England, and now was

approaching the hour when she was to become a reigning princess, with

the probability of far greater honours. This year was to be the critical

one in her life, and in January occurred the event which first altered

its course. Anne of Brittany, wife of Louis XII., died, "underly

lamented," sneered a spy, and was laid beside her former husband at St

Denis. The English Court swarmed with French prisoners, and their

friends and retainers. French manners had always prevailed in the Court

of Henry VII., and the French tongue had been the usual one of the King;

he preferred foreign household servants, and his son, fierce as he was

against the French, kept a French cook. Henry VIII.'s Court had always

been gay, and in the reaction from the frigid etiquette prescribed by

the Countess of Richmond, manners had become as free as in the time of

his grandfather, Edward IV. Bessie Blount, afterwards mother of Henry's

son, the little Duke of Richmond, young Mistress Carew, wife of Sir

Nicholas Carew, Mistress Jane Popincourt, added to the gay flutterings,

and Louis de Longueville was amongst the most careless, as he played

with the King for his ransom, and won the greater part. His intrigue

with Jane Popincourt was fairly notorious, and she was, as has been

related, one of the circle of the Princess of Castile, having been

brought up with her. Mary said, many years afterwards, that she regarded

her as one of her own relatives, but her reputation was such that Louis

XII. refused on hearsay to have her at his Court, and said he would

rather she were burnt for her wickedness. There seem to have been

changes in Mary's entourage about this time, but her ladies and the

Queen's, including the five Elizabeths,[195] up to now had been of the

old school, and some had served her mother, while Mother Guildford, as

Lady Joan Guildford was familiarly called, her Governess, was the very

epitome of the Richmond school of propriety and etiquette. She had but

lately retired on pension from the service of the Princess, whom no

doubt she had done her best to guide through the dangerous ways of the

Court of a young and lusty King. With such surroundings one can hardly

expect the little Princess to have been that paragon of womanly virtues

described by Mrs Green. She had laughed and danced and sung her life

through, sometimes ill and under her physician's care, and, as has

already been said, save in the French language, and music and dancing,

she does not seem to have received any education, but her manners were

perfect, thanks to her grandmother and Mother Guildford. The grandmother

of Lady Jane Grey, that marvel of youthful scholarship and virtue, was

just now a charming little butterfly, "sy mennuet et sy douset"[196]

that she took all men's hearts by storm in public or private. The

learning of the Renaissance had not touched her, indeed, never did, and

she was ignorant of the intellectual refinements of continental courts.

If she had not all the sterner virtues, nor a reasoned imagination, she

had the kindest heart in the world and the most faithful, with a high

courage to fight a losing game. Like Margaret of Savoy, she would have

melted her most precious pearls to make a potion for her dying husband,

and probably, as no doubt did Margaret, killed him by the heroic

self-sacrifice. She was pious in the colourless sense of the word, and

had been brought up to observe strictly all fasts and feasts of the

Church, and, like most women, was influenced by her confessor. She

believed in astrology and witchcraft, and had the normal mental outlook

of her century. No doubt, latterly, she had been influenced by her

sister-in-law, Katharine, who, however much she may have adapted

herself to English customs and relaxed her prejudices in her love for

her husband, never quite forgot the tradition of the dignified etiquette

of her Spanish girlhood.

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

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

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

After her brother's return Mary was ill for some time, and in the

doctor's hands[197] for ten weeks. Whatever the cause, she probably had

enough resemblance to her sister Margaret of Scotland to find great

consolation, if not an impetus towards health, in the new gowns of her

trousseau, and all its attendant magnificence. It was a marvellous

affair. Seven hundred and ninety three pounds and nine pence (Tudor

value) were paid at one fell swoop for pieces of cloth of gold for her

gowns and furniture, and later comes another thousand pounds worth and

more of silks, velvets of divers colours, green and white, silver,

damask, and more cloth of gold.[198] It dazzles the eyes to read.

Florentine looms were busy, and the Italian merchants in England were

doing a thriving trade. All these were to be made up in the Flemish

fashion, and the Lady Margaret was asked to give her advice about the

cutting of them and the style of the garments.[199]

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

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

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

Marriages were in the air, and gossip early said three would take place

at Calais--Mary to the Prince, Margaret of Scotland to Maximilian, and

Margaret of Austria to Lisle, whom, on February 1, Henry created Duke of

Suffolk.[200]

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

Before things got that length, however, much had happened, and the

Duchess of Savoy had been passing through the most wretched period of

her existence, for her pride had been sorely torn by the gossip which

her council took care should reach her ears and those of the Emperor,

and which gave Chièvres and the French party a pretext for attempting to

break off the English match. Her Flemish entourage had been considerably

annoyed at the intimacy between Lisle and the Governess of the

Netherlands, though Margaret assured them again and again that "that

which she had said and done was for not to annoy the King";[201] but

what they felt while they watched the exchange of vows at Lille, "at the

cupboard-head," was nothing to their sensations later on when the thing

became the gossip of Europe. That Margaret could for one moment have

imagined that such determined wooing would pass unnoticed is incredible,

but her distress at finding herself gossiped about in every country is a

proof of her belief in its secrecy. Protest her innocent intentions as

she would, the thing reached the Emperor;[202] the King of Aragon wrote

to ask if it were true;[203] the Venetian ambassador sent the news

home;[204] it was the common bruit of the staples, and the merchants

were betting on the marriage.[205] Chièvres must have exulted that his

adversary had been delivered into his hand, for as early as November

Margaret was pleading with her father for her honour, following "the

custom of her house," as she once said, and not mentioning the real

matter, but indicating it obliquely. At Henry's request changes had

been made in her Privy Council to outweigh the French element, and this

had been misliked. Floris d'Egmont, Lord Isselstein,[206] one of its

members, drew a pension from England, so probably did Berghes and

Hormistorffe and possibly Nassau, but Chièvres and St Py and their

following intrigued ceaselessly with France. They regarded Margaret as

an English agent, for letters which she had written to Brandon had been

ill kept, and her secret informations to Henry had filtered through to

the Spanish ambassador, and were none the clearer for the

filtering.[207] She felt abashed and disgraced before her own Court and

Council, and she finds "the publishing of the thing the most strange in

the world."[208] Her distress was increased when on inquiry she found

that the gossip had an English origin, and it is the strongest proof

that she really loved Brandon, this sorrow, not anger, of hers at

finding him careless of her honour in these matters. "I have been

constrained," she writes, "as well by the counsel of my servants as of

the Lord Berghes and others, to make enquiry whereof it came, and as

well by information as writing, always I have found that it proceeded

from England. Whereof I have had a marvellous sorrow. And I have letters

of the self hand of an English merchant, the which hath been the first

that hath made the wagers, as Brégilles knoweth well."[209]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[209] _Ibid._

The ink was scarcely dry on the treaties signed at Lille before the

intrigues with the French began to bear fruit. The frontier was

ill-guarded, and Margaret herself is said to have commanded the

garrisons to abstain from attacking the French; at the same time the

charges of the army were not diminished,[210] and many of the gens

d'armes drew their pay for active service while comfortably seated at

home.[211] Ferdinand, in spite of the treaty signed before Therouenne,

to which Henry had been persuaded by Margaret to admit him, was renewing

his peace with France, who was to give his second daughter to Don

Ferdinand of Austria, the Prince's brother, with Milan for dowry; to the

Emperor money and forces to recover the duchy, and to the Queen of

Aragon the Conté de Foix; further, he was to abandon Navarre to

Ferdinand and leave the Scots a prey to England. "Habes totam hanc

perfidiam." Pedro Quintana, Bishop of Catania, Ferdinand's secretary,

had been sent across France to the Emperor, and after conferring with

him in open secrecy, the English ambassador, Sir Robert Wingfield, being

kept entirely in the dark, had returned by the same way, so that when on

February 8 a truce was signed between France and Aragon, it was

conjectured to be a mere matter of time till the Emperor also joined it.

Margaret, who was Henry's firm friend, and devoted to the English cause

and marriage, implored her father to remember that Aragon was the only

one who had already pulled his chestnuts from the fire, and that no

profit would come to the Emperor. She reminded him that the only bulwark

of Burgundy against "la grande et invétérée inimitié que les Francais

portent à cette maison" is amity with her enemies, for between France

and Aragon are the mountains and England has the sea, and Henry now was

so powerful that he could make a separate and better peace if he liked.

His preparations for the new campaign, like those for the wedding, were

such as had never been made within the memory of man, and this was the

hour or never to overtop the enemy of Burgundy at the expense of

England. "I know, sir, that he has not the faintest thought of making a

truce, and that up to now he has not had, I am sure. But I am sure that

if he sees or suspects that you want to change the treaty concluded with

him, that will make him think what before he never thought, and the

thing is very dangerous, for he could always have a good treaty and

ample, and if he wanted to do it alone, it is clear he could do it

better than anyone else." "As for me, sir, I wish for peace as much as

any living person, provided it be good and sure; but otherwise it will

be to the loss and destruction of this house in the future, which God

forbid." Then she comes to the main point of her relations with Lisle:

"Sir, I know there are many people who desire nothing so much as to

break this friendship with England, and to do this, not knowing any

other means, have contrived certain tales 'de maulvaises paroles et

langaiges' which touch my honour, to put trouble between you, the said

King and myself; but, sir, be assured they are all lies, and that I

would rather have died a thousand times if it were possible than to have

thought of it, and only speak of it to take away this trouble between

us."[212] But in spite of all that Margaret could do or write, the

French party was in the ascendant, and she was discredited, for the

Emperor was backing Chièvres, who now practically ruled Charles, though

the "people about the Prince do not care much for the Emperor."[213] The

Council were already, in February, expecting information of the treaty

with France, "putting no doubt in the deliverance at this time of the

French King's daughter into their hands for the prince," and they hoped,

as the price of the marriage, that France would surrender Burgundy. The

"English" party were told there was no other way to live in peace, "and

that before the perfect age of the said daughter, the Prince shall be of

better experience and able to command and rule himself."[214] The

Emperor and the King of Aragon misliked this independent policy, but it

seemed likely to take effect, and Nassau, now openly French, thought

that they should have "the good deeds of the French and the others the

good words."[215] Margaret had still to fight for her prestige with her

father as well as with the Council, for Chièvres began to think he could

do anything with the Emperor, who in December had accepted his

daughter's "excuse" for her behaviour towards Lisle and Henry.[216] But

her further letters to Henry and Lisle, and her "secret advertisements,"

had been spied upon and told to her father, so that again she was "in

fear" and could not get into touch with him. Henry did not doubt her,

and she was probably one of the three channels by which he knew all the

Spanish secret practices.[217] But the atmosphere of her Court was

unbearable. She was regarded with suspicion by all her Council and spied

upon, and she could not speak openly to Sir William Sidney, whereof she

was more displeased than at anything else. "He himself perceiveth well

that everyone beholdeth him of the other side. As to the descent of the

King, it shall behove me to speak as soberly as I may me constrain, for

it is the thing that I desire as much as his coming. And the same for my

Lady Mary, as God knoweth. The heart me breaketh when it behoveth me to

dissemble not in this, but in many others. And it seemeth to me that I

may not so well serve the King, being in this fear, as before, so when

the King shall descend that I shall always be in this pain, and I fear

me I shall not dare speak or show good semblance to the said personage

(Lisle)."[218] Her frank nature, which loved outside diplomatic dealing,

to see and to say things as they were suffered acutely. So she sent

Brégilles to England.[219] In February, Henry had been ill with the

measles, and had been entertained during his convalescence by

Maximilian's offer of the Imperial Crown, presumably to dazzle him into

blindness to the Spanish intrigues, but, like the sacring at Rheims, it

was all nutshells. Brégilles went ostensibly to inquire for Henry's

health, but really to explain that something must be done "to avoid the

bruit," which was having such a disastrous effect on the policy of

Flanders.[220] Margaret said the only possible way, in her opinion, was

for Suffolk to marry the Lady Lisle, a child of nine years old,

Suffolk's ward, and the daughter and heiress of John Grey, late Lord

Lisle. This penance both Henry and Suffolk said was too much, for it was

not fair to bind the man to a contract which the child could repudiate

on coming of age; anything else but not that. So Henry wrote to the

Emperor expressing his astonishment that rumour had arisen of a possible

marriage between the Duchess of Savoy and the Duke of Suffolk, his "tres

leal cousin et conseiller."[221] He could not think how it came about

save as a device of certain "mauvais esprits de mettre quelque scrupule

entre vous et nous." He would search out the gossips on his side and

punish them. He did, and of course found them. They were examined in

presence of Brégilles by Wolsey and Suffolk, and it was proved beyond

doubt that the original letter was written by the nameless English

merchant while Henry was still at Tournay! So much for Margaret's

ostrich-like secrecy. Henry and Suffolk wanted to punish the unfortunate

gossips with death there and then, but Brégilles interposed. "Je leur ai

bien dit que votre volonté n'estoit point si vindicative et qu'ils ne

fissent nulle punition aux dits marchands quant au corps, sans avoir

nouvelles de vous: vous en manderez s'il vous plaît votre bon plaisir."

Suffolk offered to bring home his daughter, whose presence at Malines

might help to keep gossip alive, but Brégilles said his mistress did not

desire it, and would not think of such a thing. Henry and Mary and

Katharine all made so much of Brégilles that he was almost ashamed to

take the gifts showered upon him.[222]

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

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

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

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

[214] _Ibid._

[215] _Ibid._

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

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

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

[219] _Ibid._, i. 4726.

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

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

[222] _Ibid._, iv. 308.

The Emperor still sulked, and his daughter could make no headway with

the English marriage, and the Flemings sold guns and harness to the

Scots, and so openly favoured them as friends of France that Thomas

Spinelly, English agent at Brussels, suggested that a ship should be

secretly freighted in Zeeland with onions and apples to Scotland, with

some shrewd fellows on board to spy in the Scottish ports.[223] On March

31 the Council of Flanders had their way, and a treaty between France

and the Prince of Castile was signed[224] while the Emperor was still

deep in "confusse dealing."[225] This was practically the deathblow to

the Anglo-Castilian marriage. The French had won in spite of Margaret

and the Spanish ambassador, between whom and the Council had grown many

words. The same month the English embassy to Brussels for the arranging

of the details of the marriage had been sent off, and Margaret had made

it very clear that whoever should go on that embassy it was not to be

Suffolk. "I know that I may not show towards the personage the weal and

honour which I desire to do as before. For as yet I dare not write unto

him when I have anything to do towards the King, nor I dare not only

speak of him. And I am constrained to entreat him in all things like a

stranger, at the least before folks, the which doth me so much

displeasure that I cannot write it seeing that I take him so much for my

good friend and servant." Further on she says: "I shall not dare to

behold him with a good eye which displeasure shall be the same to him as

to me."[226] Only on his marriage with the child Lady Lisle was he to be

allowed to come into her presence. Suffolk had prepared a vast and

gorgeous equipage for the journey, and Henry said it would really cause

more gossip in England if he did not go, for it would need to be

explained publicly in Parliament,[227] but Margaret had her way, and

Suffolk's cousin, Sir Richard Wingfield, Deputy of Calais, was sent with

long instructions. He was to learn for the information of Richard

Gibson, then in Calais arranging the camp and houses, what personages

would attend on the Lady Margaret and the Prince of Castile at Calais.

He was to obtain numbers and names in writing, and also what etiquette

was to be observed. The King would provide all things for the Emperor,

the Prince, and my Lady, except beds, "which it is thought they will for

their better ease bring with them." Henry consulted Margaret in the

smallest detail, everything was to be as she desired, and sent a book

containing the provision of the Princess's apparel, her chamber, office

and stables. Cloth of every sort had been provided, "and my lady is to

devise for the making thereof after such manner as shall best please

her," and in queenly and honourable fashion. Above all, a definite

answer about the place of the wedding was to be demanded.[228]

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sir Richard and his companions found only Margaret on their side, for

the Council would gladly hinder the Prince's marriage "with the Lady

Mary, saying that he is a child and she a woman full grown."[229] In

fact, as the Venetian ambassador had said, "he wanted a wife and not a

mother."[230] They had it seems no doubt about Mary's real age. At the

same time that gossip was carried to the English Court of the intrigue

of the prince with Mdlle de Likerke, "a damsel of the court," at

Malines, Mary was reported of so amorous a nature that it would be

dangerous for Charles to marry her before he was full grown. Margaret

had sent over to find out the truth of this last rumour, and her agent

wrote: "Je vous ose bien dire que si ce n'était que toutes femmes sont

assez fortes, que Monsieur viendra bien au bout de cette ci, car y n'est

rien si mennuet ni si douset qu'elle est." If Monsieur could only speak

to her privately a little while, it is certain that "Likerke tornera le

rot au sort qu'il sera tout brulé,"[231] which rather obscure statement

may mean that the Flamande would be eclipsed easily by her rival. The

one "Englishman" on the Council denied Charles's interest in Likerke,

and reported that the Prince had said that Mary had been always his only

love,[232] but, on the other hand, Charles had "spoken suspicious

words," and he was young and surrounded by a young Council.[233] The

French ambassador was honourably received at Court, and there were many

ill rumours spread against England, most of them coming from France,

especially one which said the English could not hold Tournay for three

months. The feast of St George's day was not observed in any point, any

more than if the Prince did not belong to the Order. "The Archduchess is

sorry, but cannot oppose it, as the authority of France increases.

Unless the King looks to it, all these countries will be ruled by the

French."[234] Throughout the mission the English had no more courteous

sympathizer than the Aragonese ambassador: "I promise your Grace he

spareth not to answer your faithful servant. What they mean thereby God

knoweth." Wingfield became more insistent, and refused to be put off

longer with vague answers about the marriage, for it was now the end of

April, and the ceremony was timed for May 15. Chièvres still had the

Emperor's ear, he had bought it for 100,000 crowns,[235] and Margaret

wrote in vain that a definite answer could not be put off much longer,

but Maximilian preferred as usual to drive the time and let someone else

face the consequences. The English would accept no postponement, and

said the wedding must be at Calais, and Margaret, at her wits' end to

explain decently her father's variableness, "forged an excuse at

Malines," and, turning in the track of gossip, said she feared that if

the Prince married so young he might be disappointed of issue.[236]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The French were now forward on the borders of the Pale, and said "they

would look upon us at Guisnes,"[237] while Préjan, the admiral, was at

Dieppe with his galleys, and at St Omer there were as many Mamelukes as

good Frenchmen. Count de Ligny and all other captains in Henry's pay

were ordered to draw to Calais and lodge about Gravelines, to co-operate

with the force which was ready to cross the sea.[238] At this moment

grew a rumour of Margaret's marriage to Louis XII., but Henry denied it

before his Council, and said, no matter who in the world said so he

would not believe it, for he never doubted her for a moment, though he

acknowledged her explanation of her use of English moneys and soldiers

was rather "colorable." At last, in May, Margaret had comfortable

letters from her father, and she definitely broke with Suffolk in the

pathetic letters[239] already quoted, which, "so that certain conclusion

might be made," she wrote to Sir Richard Wingfield, but she could not

undo the well-knit French policy. Suffolk's _riposte_ was somewhat weak.

At the jousts in May the King and the new duke defended the tilt against

all comers, and on their black staves was written in white letters, "Who

can hold what will away." Hall says, "This poesie was judged to be made

for the Duke of Suffolk and the Duchess of Savoy," and as Henry's bore

the same legend, it probably referred also to the Prince of Castile and

the Princess Mary.[240]

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

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

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

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

This was not, however, the open end. Negotiations dragged on. Sir Robert

Wingfield, who had once before detached the Emperor from France, was

trying to repeat the move, but with no success, for Aragon's ambassador,

with his dealings "full of ficte and colored matter," was always there

to balk him. He implored Henry to do nothing in haste, for "his majesty

showeth himself at many times not easy to be led, and much worse to be

driven, and therefore, Sir, for the love of God, have good consideration

how ye handle this old practised Prince, which hath been but easily

(_i.e._ superficially) known in time past, because many have sought to

defame him and few to declare and show what manner of man he is."[241]

The Aragonese ambassador at Malines also gave himself such airs of

importance that Margaret was exceedingly annoyed, and it was openly

said that "if the said lord Prince will not be obeissant unto the King

of Aragon (_i.e._ in the matter of marriage), or go into Spain against

his will, he might be poisoned, as his father King Philip was."[242]

Gerard de Pleine, representing Flanders, and John Coller, the Emperor,

were sent to England, and got very little comfort from either Henry or

the Council, the former declaring roundly that if he wanted peace he

need not send out of his kingdom for it,[243] which the ambassadors took

as an allusion to Louis de Longueville, who was a favourite in the

court. Wolsey said the King would not make peace, but if he did it would

ruin Flanders.[244] The English themselves were in favour of war with

France, and, like Lord Darcy,[245] offered themselves and their sons

with eagerness to serve the King there. The marriage of Mary with the

Prince was taken for granted, so that the breaking of this traditional

policy was a difficult matter, and had to be conducted to a full

conclusion secretly. Hence, though in June the truce with France was

assured, and on July 30 Mary, persuaded by her brother and Wolsey,

formally renounced her compact of marriage with Charles,[246] yet on

August 2 Margaret was reading letters from Henry "with a glad

countenance."[247] A fortnight later the fashion thereof had changed,

when she heard that her trust had been misplaced and played with, and

she had to listen to Chièvres' sneers at English fidelity.[248] The

Council cried traitor to the English, and the whole country was

exasperated. Englishmen were assaulted in Brussels,[249] and the

Captain of Tournay found victualling a difficult matter, for it depended

on the goodwill of the surrounding people, and the Anglo-French alliance

put the fear of God upon them. Margaret was the only one who refused to

believe the report, and "took great thought and displeasure therewith in

so much that some fear she shall take hurt thereby"; and indeed she did

fall ill[250] in the autumn from vexation at the failure of her plans

and from grief, "for the penance was too great for their offence."[251]

The Duchess made one more attempt to reknit the bonds between England

and Flanders, and threatened to publish Henry's promise, signed at

Tournay, not to enter into any truce without the knowledge of his ally,

the Prince, but Henry retorted that if she did this, which, after all,

would do him no harm, he would publish secret letters of hers which he

held,[252] and so again Margaret ran up against the Suffolk affair. Do

what she might it was not forgotten, for "the bruit is so imprinted in

the fantasies of the people," and as late as September 1515[253] she was

asking Wolsey for the return of her letters.

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

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

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

[244] _Ibid._

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Illustration: CHARLES, PRINCE OF CASTILE

FROM THE PAINTING IN THE LOUVRE (FLEMISH SCHOOL)]

Charles is said to have used strong language on hearing that he had been

jilted. "It was said that when the Prince of Castile heard that his

promised bride had been given to France, he went immediately into his

council chamber and said to his Councillors, "Well, am I to have my wife

as you promised me," with other words to that effect; whereupon his

Councillors answered him: "You are young, but the King of France is

the first King in Christendom, and, having no wife, it rests with him to

take for his queen any woman he pleases." Thus did they seek to excuse

themselves. During this conversation Duke Charles, looking out of the

window, saw a man with a hawk on his fist, and calling one of his

Councillors, who was his chief friend, said to him, "I prithee go buy me

that hawk." The Councillor replied, "I know that hawk: he is a young

bird and does not yet know how to quarry: he is not a bird for your

lordship." The Prince again said, "I prithee go and buy it." The

Councillor, still seeking to excuse himself, the Duke at length

exclaimed, "Come with me." So he bought it himself and put it on his

fist. Then, having returned to the council chamber, he seated himself

and began plucking the hawk, the Councillor meanwhile inquiring, "Sir!

what are you doing?" The Duke still continued plucking the bird, and

when he had done so to his heart's content, made answer: "Thou askest me

why I plucked this hawk! he is young you see, and has not yet been

trained, and because he is young he is held in small account, and

because he is young he squeaked not when I plucked him. Thus have you

done by me: I am young, you have plucked me at your good pleasure, and

because I was young I knew not how to complain, but bear in mind that

for the future I shall pluck you."[254] This tale is regarded as

apocryphal, or at least impossible, but the date is September 24, about

six weeks after the publication in London of the treaty with France, and

indifference to suffering in animals is not unheard-of in the sixteenth

century. Maximilian sorrowed too at the thought that the original of the

picture he had admired at Therouenne, "the fair and virtuous princess,

should come to an impotent, indisposed and so malicious a prince as is

the French King,"[255] and, like St George, his favourite saint, would

have liked to rescue the maiden from the dragon.

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

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

Mary Tudor, Queen of France · 第 4 / 12 章