CHAPTER III. (p. 043)

THE APPRENTICESHIP OF HENRY VIII.

Quietly and peacefully, without a threat from abroad or a murmur at

home, the crown, which his father had won amid the storm and stress of

the field of battle, devolved upon Henry VIII. With an eager profusion

of zeal Ferdinand of Aragon placed at Henry's disposal his army, his

fleet, his personal services.[78] There was no call for this sacrifice.

For generations there had been no such tranquil demise of the crown.

Not a ripple disturbed the surface of affairs as the old King lay sick

in April, 1509, in Richmond Palace at Sheen. By his bedside stood his

only surviving son; and to him the dying monarch addressed his last

words of advice. He desired him to complete his marriage with Catherine,

he exhorted him to defend the Church, and to make war on the infidel;

he commended to him his faithful councillors, and is believed to have

urged upon him the execution of De la Pole, Earl of Suffolk, the White

Rose of England. On the 22nd he was dead. A fortnight later the funeral

procession wended its way from Sheen to St. Paul's, where the illustrious

John Fisher, cardinal and martyr, preached the _eloge_. Thence it (p. 044)

passed down the Strand, between hedges and willows clad in the fresh

green of spring, to

That acre sown indeed

With the richest, royallest seed

That the earth did e'er drink in.

There, in the vault beneath the chapel in Westminster Abbey, which

bears his name and testifies to his magnificence in building, Henry

VII. was laid to rest beside his Queen; dwelling, says Bacon, "more

richly dead in the monument of his tomb than he did alive in Richmond

or any of his palaces". For years before and after, Torrigiano, the

rival of Buonarotti, wrought at its "matchless altar," not a stone of

which survived the Puritan fury of the civil war.

[Footnote 78: _Sp. Cal._, ii., 4.]

On the day of his father's death, or the next, the new King removed

from Richmond Palace to the Tower, whence, on 23rd April, was dated

the first official act of his reign. He confirmed in ampler form the

general pardon granted a few days before by Henry VII.; but the ampler

form was no bar to the exemption of fourscore offenders from the act

of grace.[79] Foremost among them were the three brothers De la Pole,

Sir Richard Empson and Edmund Dudley. The exclusion of Empson and

Dudley from the pardon was more popular than the pardon itself. If

anything could have enhanced Henry's favour with his subjects, it was

the condign punishment of the tools of his father's extortion. Their

death was none the less welcome for being unjust. They were not merely

refused pardon and brought to the block; a more costly concession was

made when their bonds for the payment of loans were cancelled.[80]

Their victims, so runs the official record, had been "without (p. 045)

any ground or matter of truth, by the undue means of certain of the

council of our said late father, thereunto driven contrary to law,

reason and good conscience, to the manifest charge and peril of the

soul of our said late father".

[Footnote 79: _L. and P._, i., 2, 12.]

[Footnote 80: _Cf. L. and P._, i., 1004.]

If filial piety demanded the delivery of his father's soul from peril,

it counselled no less the fulfilment of his dying requests, and the

arrangements for Catherine's marriage were hurried on with an almost

indecent haste. The instant he heard rumours of Henry VII.'s death,

Ferdinand sent warning to his envoy in England that Louis of France

and others would seek by all possible means to break off the match.[81]

To further it, he would withdraw his objections to the union of Charles

and Mary; and a few days later he wrote again to remove any scruples

Henry might entertain about marrying his deceased brother's wife;

while to Catherine herself he declared with brutal frankness that she

would get no other husband than Henry.[82] All his paternal anxiety

might have been spared. Long before Ferdinand's persuasions could

reach Henry's ears, he had made up his mind to consummate the marriage.

He would not, he wrote to Margaret of Savoy,[83] disobey his father's

commands, reinforced as they were by the dispensation of the Pope and

by the friendship between the two families contracted by his sister

Mary's betrothal to Catherine's nephew Charles. There were other

reasons besides those he alleged. A council trained by Henry VII. was

loth to lose the gold of Catherine's dower; it was of the utmost

importance to strengthen at once the royal line; and a full-blooded

youth of Henry's temperament was not likely to repel a comely (p. 046)

wife ready to his hand, when the dictates of his father's policy no

longer stood between them. So on 11th June, barely a month after Henry

VII.'s obsequies, the marriage, big with destinies, of Henry VIII. and

Catherine of Aragon was privately solemnised by Archbishop Warham "in

the Queen's closet" at Greenwich.[84] On the same day the commission

of claims was appointed for the King's and Queen's coronation. A week

then sufficed for its business, and on Sunday, 24th June, the Abbey

was the scene of a second State function within three months. Its

splendour and display were emblematic of the coming reign. Warham

placed the crown on the King's head; the people cried, "Yea, yea!" in

a loud voice when asked if they would have Henry as King; Sir Robert

Dymock performed the office of champion; and a banquet, jousts and

tourneys concluded the ceremonies.

[Footnote 81: _Sp. Cal._, ii., 3.]

[Footnote 82: _Ibid._, ii., 8, 15.]

[Footnote 83: _L. and P._, i., 224.]

[Footnote 84: _L. and P._, iv., 5774.]

* * * * *

Though he had wedded a wife and been crowned a king, Henry was as yet

little more than a boy. A powerful mind ripens slowly in a vigorous

frame, and Henry's childish precocity had given way before a youthful

devotion to physical sports. He was no prodigy of early development.

His intellect, will and character were of a gradual, healthier growth;

they were not matured for many years after he came to the throne. He

was still in his eighteenth year; and like most young Englishmen of

means and muscle, his interests centred rather in the field than in

the study. Youth sat on the prow and pleasure at the helm. "Continual

feasting" was the phrase in which Catherine described their early married

life. In the winter evenings there were masks and comedies, romps (p. 047)

and revels, in which Henry himself, Bessie Blount and other young

ladies of his Court played parts.[85] In the spring and summer there

were archery and tennis. Music, we are told, was practised day and

night. Two months after his accession Henry wrote to Ferdinand that he

diverted himself with jousts, birding, hunting, and other innocent and

honest pastimes, in visiting various parts of his kingdom, but that he

did not therefore neglect affairs of State.[86] Possibly he was as

assiduous in his duties as modern university athletes in their studies;

the neglect was merely comparative. But Ferdinand's ambassador remarked

on Henry's aversion to business, and his councillors complained that

he cared only for the pleasures of his age. Two days a week, said the

Spaniard, were devoted to single combats on foot, initiated in imitation

of the heroes of romance, Amadis and Lancelot;[87] and if Henry's

other innocent and honest pastimes were equally exacting, his view of

the requirements of State may well have been modest. From the earliest

days of his reign the general outline of policy was framed in accord

with his sentiments, and he was probably consulted on most questions

of importance. But it was not always so; in August, 1509, Louis XII.

acknowledged a letter purporting to come from the English King with a

request for friendship and peace. "Who wrote this letter?" burst out

Henry. "I ask peace of the King of France, who dare not look me in the

face, still less make war on me!"[88] His pride at the age of eighteen

was not less than his ignorance of what passed in his name. He had (p. 048)

yet to learn the secret that painful and laborious mastery of detail

is essential to him who aspires not merely to reign but to rule; and

matters of detail in administration and diplomacy were still left in

his ministers' hands.

[Footnote 85: _L. and P._, vol. ii., p. 1461.]

[Footnote 86: _Sp. Cal._, ii., 19.]

[Footnote 87: _Ibid._, ii., 44, 45.]

[Footnote 88: _Ven. Cal._, ii., 11.]

With the exception of Empson and Dudley, Henry made little or no change

in the council his father bequeathed him. Official precedence appertained

to his Chancellor, Warham, Archbishop of Canterbury. Like most of

Henry VII.'s prelates, he received his preferment in the Church as a

reward for services to the State. Much of the diplomatic work of the

previous reign had passed through his hands; he helped to arrange the

marriage of Arthur and Catherine, and was employed in the vain attempt

to obtain Margaret of Savoy as a bride for Henry VII. As Archbishop he

crowned and married Henry VIII., and as Chancellor he delivered

orations at the opening of the young King's first three Parliaments.[89]

They are said to have given general satisfaction, but apart from them,

Warham, for some unknown reason, took little part in political

business. So far as Henry can be said at this time to have had a Prime

Minister, that title belongs to Fox, his Lord Privy Seal and Bishop of

Winchester. Fox had been even more active than Warham in politics, and

more closely linked with the personal fortunes of the two Tudor kings.

He had shared the exile of Henry of Richmond; the treaty of Etaples,

the Intercursus Magnus, the marriage of Henry's elder daughter to

James IV., and the betrothal of his younger to Charles, were largely

the work of his hands. Malicious gossip described him as willing to

consent to his own father's death to serve the turn of his king, (p. 049)

and a better founded belief ascribed to his wit the invention of

"Morton's fork".[90] He was Chancellor of Cambridge in 1500, as Warham

was of Oxford, but won more enduring fame by founding the college of

Corpus Christi in the university over which the Archbishop presided.

He had baptised Henry VIII. and advocated his marriage to Catherine;

and to him the King extended the largest share in his confidence.

Badoer, the Venetian ambassador, called him "alter rex,"[91] and

Carroz, the Spaniard, said Henry trusted him most; but Henry was not

blind to the failings of his most intimate councillors, and he warned

Carroz that the Bishop of Winchester was, as his name implied, a fox

indeed.[92] A third prelate, Ruthal of Durham, divided with Fox the

chief business of State; and these clerical advisers were supposed to

be eager to guide Henry's footsteps in the paths of peace, and

counteract the more adventurous tendencies of their lay colleagues.

[Footnote 89: _L. and P._, i., 811, 2082; ii.,

114.]

[Footnote 90: _D.N.B._, xx., 152.]

[Footnote 91: _Ven. Cal._, ii., 63.]

[Footnote 92: _Sp. Cal._, ii., 44.]

At the head of the latter stood Thomas Howard, Earl of Surrey, soon to

be rewarded for his victory at Flodden by his restoration to the

dukedom of Norfolk. He and his son, the third duke, were Lord High

Treasurers throughout Henry's reign; but jealousy of their past, Tudor

distrust of their rank, or personal limitations, impaired the

authority that would otherwise have attached to their official

position; and Henry never trusted them as he did ministers whom he

himself had raised from the dust. Surrey had served under Edward IV.

and Richard III.; he had fought against Henry at Bosworth, been

attainted and sent to the Tower. Reflecting that it was better to (p. 050)

be a Tudor official at Court than a baronial magnate in prison, he

submitted to the King and was set up as a beacon to draw his peers

from their feudal ways. The rest of the council were men of little

distinction. Shrewsbury, the Lord High Steward, was a pale reflex of

Surrey, and illustrious in nought but descent. Charles Somerset, Lord

Herbert, who was Chamberlain and afterwards Earl of Worcester, was a

Beaufort bastard,[93] and may have derived some little influence from

his harmless kinship with Henry VIII. Lovell, the Treasurer, Poynings

the Controller of the Household, and Harry Marney, Chancellor of the

Duchy of Lancaster, were tried and trusty officials. Bishop Fisher was

great as a Churchman, a scholar, a patron of learning, but not as a

man of affairs; while Buckingham, the only duke in England, and his

brother, the Earl of Wiltshire, were rigidly excluded by dynastic

jealousy from all share in political authority.

[Footnote 93: He is a link in the hereditary chain

which began with Beauforts, Dukes of Somerset and

ended in Somersets, Dukes of Beaufort.]

The most persistent of Henry's advisers was none of his council. He

was Ferdinand the Catholic, King of Aragon; and to his inspiration has

been ascribed[94] the course of foreign policy during the first five

years of his son-in-law's reign. He worked through his daughter; the

only thing she valued in life, wrote Catherine a month after her

marriage, was her father's confidence. When Membrilla was recalled

because he failed to satisfy Catherine's somewhat exacting temper, she

was herself formally commissioned to act in his place as (p. 051)

Ferdinand's ambassador at Henry's Court; Henry was begged to give her

implicit credence and communicate with Spain through her mediation!

"These kingdoms of _your_ highness," she wrote to her father, "are in

great tranquillity."[95] Well might Ferdinand congratulate himself on

the result of her marriage, and the addition of fresh, to his already

extensive, domains. He needed them all to ensure the success of his

far-reaching schemes. His eldest grandson, Charles, was heir not only

to Castile and Aragon, Naples and the Indies, which were to come to

him from his mother, Ferdinand's imbecile daughter, Juana, but to

Burgundy and Austria, the lands of his father, Philip, and of Philip's

father, the Emperor Maximilian. This did not satisfy Ferdinand's

grasping ambition; he sought to carve out for his second grandson,

named after himself, a kingdom in Northern Italy.[96] On the Duchy of

Milan, the republics of Venice, Genoa and Florence, his greedy eyes

were fixed. Once conquered, they would bar the path of France to

Naples; compensated by these possessions, the younger Ferdinand might

resign his share in the Austrian inheritance to Charles; while Charles

himself was to marry the only daughter of the King of Hungary, add

that to his other dominions, and revive the empire of Charlemagne. (p. 052)

Partly with these objects in view, partly to draw off the scent from

his own track, Ferdinand had, in 1508, raised the hue and cry after

Venice. Pope and Emperor, France and Spain, joined in the chase, but

of all the parties to the league of Cambrai, Louis XII. was in a position

to profit the most. His victory over Venice at Agnadello (14th May,

1509), secured him Milan and Venetian territory as far as the Mincio;

it also dimmed the prospects of Ferdinand's Italian scheme and threatened

his hold on Naples; but the Spanish King was restrained from open

opposition to France by the fact that Louis was still mediating

between him and Maximilian on their claims to the administration of

Castile, the realm of their daughter and daughter-in-law, Juana.

[Footnote 94: By Bergenroth in his prefaces to the

_Calendar of Spanish State Papers_. He greatly

exaggerates Ferdinand's influence.]

[Footnote 95: _Sp. Cal._, ii., 12, 21; _L. and P._,

i., 368.]

[Footnote 96: _Ibid._, ii., 153, 159. The following

pedigree may be useful for reference:--

Charles = Margaret

the Bold of York, "aunt to all the Pretenders"

|

|

Mary = Emperor Ferdinand = Isabella

Maximilian of Aragon | of Castile

| (_d._ 1519) |

| +---------------------+

| | |

Archduke = Juana Catherine

Philip | of

(_d._ 1506) | Aragon

|

+----------------------+

| |

Charles V., Emperor Ferdinand, Emperor

1519-1556 1556-1564]

* * * * *

Such was the situation with which Henry VIII. and his council were

required to deal. The young King entered the arena of Europe, a child

of generous impulse in a throng of hoary intriguers--Ferdinand,

Maximilian, Louis XII., Julius II.--each of whom was nearly three

times his age. He was shocked to see them leagued to spoil a petty

republic, a republic, too, which had been for ages the bulwark of

Christendom against the Turk and from time immemorial the ally of

England. Venice had played no small part in the revival of letters

which appealed so strongly to Henry's intellectual sympathies. Scholars

and physicians from Venice, or from equally threatened Italian

republics, frequented his Court and Cabinet. Venetian merchants

developed the commerce of London; Venetian galleys called twice a year

at Southampton on their way to and from Flanders, and their trade (p. 053)

was a source of profit to both nations. Inevitably Henry's sympathies

went out to the sore-pressed republic. They were none the less strong

because the chief of the spoilers was France, for Henry and his people

were imbued with an inborn antipathy to everything French.[97] Before

he came to the throne he was reported to be France's enemy; and

speculations were rife as to the chances of his invading it and

imitating the exploits of his ancestor Henry V. It needed no

persuasion from Ferdinand to induce him to intervene in favour of

Venice. Within a few weeks of his accession he refused to publish the

papal bull which cast the halo of crusaders over the bandits of

Cambrai. The day after his coronation he deplored to Badoer Louis'

victory at Agnadello, and a week later he wrote to the sovereigns of

Europe urging the injustice of their Venetian crusade. In September he

sent Bainbridge, Cardinal-Archbishop of York, to reside at the Papal

Court, and watch over the interests of Venice as well as of England.

"Italy," wrote Badoer, "was entirely rescued from the barbarians by

the movements of the English King; and, but for that, Ferdinand would

have done nothing."[98] Henry vainly endeavoured to persuade

Maximilian, the Venetian's lifelong foe, to accept arbitration; but he

succeeded in inducing the Doge to make his peace with the Pope, and

Julius to remove his ecclesiastical censures. To Ferdinand he declared

that Venice must be preserved as a wall against the Turk, and he

hinted that Ferdinand's own dominions in Italy would, if Venice were

destroyed, "be unable to resist the ambitious designs of certain (p. 054)

Christian princes".[99] The danger was as patent to Julius and

Ferdinand as it was to Henry; and as soon as Ferdinand had induced

Louis to give a favourable verdict in his suit with the Emperor, the

Catholic King was ready to join Henry and the Pope in a league of

defence.

[Footnote 97: _Ven. Cal._, i., 941, 942, 945; ii.,

1.]

[Footnote 98: _L. and P._, i., 922, 932, 3333;

_Ven. Cal._, ii., 5, 7, 9, 19-22, 28, 33, 39, 40,

45, 51.]

[Footnote 99: _Sp. Cal._, ii., 23.]

But, in spite of Venetian, Spanish and papal instigations to "recover

his noble inheritance in France," in spite of his own indignation at

the treatment of Venice, and the orders issued in the first year of

his reign to his subjects to furnish themselves with weapons of war,

for which the long peace had left them unprepared,[100] Henry, or the

peace party in his council, was unwilling to resort to the arbitrament

of arms. He renewed his father's treaties not only with other powers,

but, much to the disgust of Ferdinand, Venice and the Pope, with Louis

himself. His first martial exploit, apart from 1,500 archers whom he

was bound by treaty to send to aid the Netherlands against the Duke of

Guelders,[101] was an expedition for the destruction of the enemies of

the faith.[102] Such an expedition, he once said, he owed to God for

his peaceful accession; at another time he declared[103] that he

cherished, like an heirloom, the ardour against the infidel which he

inherited from his father. He repressed that ardour, it must be added,

with as much success as Henry VII.; and apart from this one youthful

indiscretion, he did not suffer his ancestral zeal to escape into

action. His generous illusions soon vanished before the sordid

realities of European statecraft; and the defence of Christendom (p. 055)

became with him, as with others, a hollow pretence, a diplomatic

fiction, the infinite varieties of which age could not wither nor

custom stale. Did a monarch wish for peace? Peace at once was

imperative to enable Christian princes to combine against the Turk.

Did he desire war? War became a disagreeable necessity to restrain the

ambition of Christian princes who, "worse than the infidel," disturbed

the peace of Christendom and opened a door for the enemies of the

Church. Nor did the success of Henry's first crusade encourage him to

persist in similar efforts. It sailed from Plymouth in May, 1511, to

join in Ferdinand's attack on the Moors, but it had scarcely landed

when bickerings broke out between the Christian allies, and Ferdinand

informed the English commanders that he had made peace with the

Infidel, to gird his loins for war with the Most Christian King.

[Footnote 100: _L. and P._, i., 679.]

[Footnote 101: _Ven. Cal._, ii., 16; _L. and P._,

i., 1740.]

[Footnote 102: _L. and P._, i., 1531.]

[Footnote 103: _Ibid._, ii., 4688; _Ven. Cal._,

ii., 178.]

In the midst of their preparation against infidels, so runs the

preamble to the treaty in which Henry and Ferdinand signified their

adhesion to the Holy League, they heard that Louis was besieging the

Pope in Bologna.[104] The thought of violent hands being laid on the

Vicar of Christ stirred Henry to a depth of indignation which no

injuries practised against a temporal power could rouse. His ingenuous

deference to the Papacy was in singular contrast to the contempt with

which it was treated by more experienced sovereigns, and they traded

on the weight which Henry always attached to the words of the Pope. He

had read Maximilian grave lectures on his conduct in countenancing the

schismatic _conciliabulum_ assembled by Louis at Pisa.[105] He wrote

to Bainbridge at the Papal Court that he was ready to sacrifice goods,

life and kingdom for the Pope and the Church;[106] and to the (p. 056)

Emperor that at the beginning of his reign he thought of nothing else

than an expedition against the Infidel. But now he was called by the

Pope and the danger of the Church in another direction; and he

proceeded to denounce the impiety and schism of the French and their

atrocious deeds in Italy. He joined Ferdinand in requiring Louis to

desist from his impious work. Louis turned a deaf ear to their

demands; and in November, 1511, they bound themselves to defend the

Church against all aggression and make war upon the aggressor.

[Footnote 104: _Sp. Cal._, ii., 59.]

[Footnote 105: _L. and P._, i., 1828.]

[Footnote 106: _Ven. Cal._, ii., 177.]

* * * * *

This reversal of the pacific policy which had marked the first two and

a half years of Henry's reign was not exclusively due to the King's

zeal for the Church. The clerical party of peace in his council was

now divided by the appearance of an ecclesiastic who was far more

remarkable than any of his colleagues, and to whose turbulence and

energy the boldness of English policy must, henceforth, for many years

be mainly ascribed. Thomas Wolsey had been appointed Henry's almoner

at the beginning of his reign, but he exercised no apparent influence

in public affairs. It was not till 1511 that he joined the council,

though during the interval he must have been gradually building up his

ascendancy over the King's mind. To Wolsey, restlessly ambitious for

himself, for Henry, and England, was attributed the responsibility for

the sudden adoption of a spirited foreign policy; and it was in the

preparations for the war of 1512 that his marvellous industry and

grasp of detail first found full scope.

The main attack of the English and Spanish monarchs was to be on (p. 057)

Guienne,[107] and in May, 1512, Henry went down to Southampton to

speed the departing fleet.[108] It sailed from Cowes under Dorset's

command on 3rd June, and a week later the army disembarked on the

coast of Guipuscoa.[109] There it remained throughout the torrid

summer, awaiting the Spanish King's forces to co-operate in the

invasion of France. But Ferdinand was otherwise occupied. Navarre was

not mentioned in the treaty with Henry, but Navarre was what Ferdinand

had in his mind. It was then an independent kingdom, surrounded on

three sides by Spanish territory, and an easy prey which would serve

to unite all Spain beyond the Pyrenees under Ferdinand's rule. Under

pretence of restoring Guienne to the English crown, Dorset's army had

been enticed to Passages, and there it was used as a screen against

the French, behind which Ferdinand calmly proceeded to conquer

Navarre. It was, he said, impossible to march into France with Navarre

unsubdued in his rear. Navarre was at peace, but it might join the

French, and he invited Dorset to help in securing the prey. Dorset

refused to exceed his commission, but the presence of his army at

Passages was admitted by the Spaniards to be "quite providential,"[110]

as it prevented the French from assisting Navarre. English indignation

was loud and deep; men and officers vowed that, but for Henry's

displeasure, they would have called to account the perfidious King.

Condemned to inactivity, the troops almost mutinied; they found it

impossible to live on their wages of sixpence a day (equivalent now to

at least six shillings), drank Spanish wine as if it were English (p. 058)

beer, and died of dysentery like flies in the autumn. Discipline

relaxed; drill was neglected. Still Ferdinand tarried, and in October,

seeing no hope of an attempt on Guienne that year, the army took

matters into its own hands and embarked for England.[111]

[Footnote 107: _L. and P._, i., 1980; _Sp. Cal._,

ii., 59; _Ven. Cal._, ii., 122.]

[Footnote 108: _Ibid._, ii., 159.]

[Footnote 109: _L. and P._, i., 3243.]

[Footnote 110: _Ibid._, i., 3352.]

[Footnote 111: _L. and P._, i., 3298, 3355; _Ven.

Cal._, ii., 198, 205. The financial accounts for

the expedition are in _L. and P._, i., 3762.]

Henry's first military enterprise had ended in disgrace and disaster.

The repute of English soldiers, dimmed by long peace, was now further

tarnished. Henry's own envoys complained of the army's insubordination,

its impatience of the toils, and inexperience of the feats, of war;

and its ignominious return exposed him to the taunts of both friends

and foes. He had been on the point of ordering it home, when it came

of its own accord; but the blow to his authority was not, on that

account, less severe. His irritation was not likely to be soothed when

he realised the extent to which he had been duped by his father-in-law.

Ferdinand was loud in complaints and excuses.[112] September and

October were, he said, the proper months for a campaign in Guienne,

and he was marching to join the English army at the moment of its

desertion. In reality, it had served his purpose to perfection. Its

presence had diverted French levies from Italy, and enabled him,

unmolested, to conquer Navarre. With that he was content. Why should

he wish to see Henry in Guienne? He was too shrewd to involve his own

forces in that hopeless adventure, and the departure of the English

furnished him with an excuse for entering into secret negotiations

with Louis. His methods were eloquent of sixteenth-century (p. 059)

diplomacy. He was, he ordered Carroz to tell Henry many months

later,[113] when concealment was no longer possible or necessary,

sending a holy friar to his daughter in England; the friar's health

did not permit of his going by sea; so he went through France, and was

taken prisoner. Hearing of his fame for piety, the French Queen desired

his ghostly advice, and took the opportunity of the interview to

persuade the friar to return to Spain with proposals of peace.

Ferdinand was suddenly convinced that death was at hand; his confessor

exhorted him to forgive and make peace with his enemies. This work of

piety he could not in conscience neglect. So he agreed to a twelvemonth's

truce, which secured Navarre. In spite of his conscience he would

never have consented, had he not felt that the truce was really in

Henry's interests. But what weighed with him most was, he said, the

reformation of the Church. That should be Henry's first and noblest

work; he could render no greater service to God. No reformation was

possible without peace, and so long as the Church was unreformed, wars

among princes would never cease.

[Footnote 112: _Sp. Cal._, ii., 68, 70, 72; _cf._

_L. and P._, i., 3350, 3356.]

[Footnote 113: _Sp. Cal._, ii., 89, 118; _L. and

P._, i., 3839.]

Such reasoning, he thought, would appeal to the pious and unsophisticated

Henry. To other sovereigns he used arguments more suited to their

experience of his diplomacy. He told Maximilian[114] that his main

desire was to serve the Emperor's interests, to put a curb on the

Italians, and to frustrate their design of driving himself, Louis and

Maximilian across the Alps. But the most monumental falsehood he

reserved for the Pope; his ambassador at the Papal Court was to (p. 060)

assure Julius that he had failed in his efforts to concert with Henry

a joint invasion of France, that Henry was not in earnest over the war

and that he had actually made a truce[115] with France. This had

enabled Louis to pour fresh troops into Italy, and compelled him,

Ferdinand, to consult his own interests and make peace! Two days later

he was complaining to Louis that Henry refused to join in the

truce.[116] To punish Henry for his refusal he was willing to aid

Louis against him, but he would prefer to settle the differences

between the French and the English kings by a still more treacherous

expedient. Julius was to be induced to give a written promise that, if

the points at issue were submitted to his arbitration, he would

pronounce no verdict till it had been secretly sanctioned by Ferdinand

and Louis. This promise obtained, Louis was publicly to appeal to the

Pope; Henry's devotion to the Church would prevent his refusing the

Supreme Pontiff's mediation; if he did, ecclesiastical censures could

be invoked against him.[117] Such was the plot Ferdinand was hatching

for the benefit of his daughter's husband. The Catholic King had ever

deceit in his heart and the name of God on his lips. He was accused by

a rival of having cheated him twice; the charge was repeated to

Ferdinand. "He lies," he broke out, "I cheated him three times." He

was faithful to one principle only, self-aggrandisement by fair means

or foul. His favourite scheme was a kingdom in Northern Italy; but in

the way of its realisation his own overreaching ambition placed an

insuperable bar. Italy had been excluded from his truce with France to

leave him free to pursue that design;[118] but in July, 1512, the (p. 061)

Italians already suspected his motives, and a papal legate declared

that they no more wished to see Milan Spanish than French.[119] In the

following November, Spanish troops in the pay and alliance of Venice

drove the French out of Brescia. By the terms of the Holy League, it

should have been restored to its owner, the Venetian Republic.

Ferdinand kept it himself; it was to form the nucleus of his North

Italian dominion. Venice at once took alarm and made a compact with

France which kept the Spaniards at bay until after Ferdinand's

death.[120] The friendship between Venice and France severed that

between France and the Emperor; and, in 1513, the war went on with a

rearrangement of partners, Henry and Maximilian on one side,[121]

against France and Venice on the other, with Ferdinand secretly trying

to trick them all.

[Footnote 114: _Ibid._, ii., 96, 101.]

[Footnote 115: _Sp. Cal._, ii., 106.]

[Footnote 116: _Ibid._, ii., 107.]

[Footnote 117: _Ibid._, ii., 104.]

[Footnote 118: _Sp. Cal._, ii., 70.]

[Footnote 119: _L. and P._, i., 3325.]

[Footnote 120: _Ven. Cal._, ii., 208, 234, 254,

283, 298. Bergenroth, in his zeal for Ferdinand,

represents the Pope and not Ferdinand as being

responsible for driving Venice into the arms of

France.]

[Footnote 121: _L. and P._, i., 3649, 3859-61. The

league between Henry and Maximilian was concluded

5th April, 1513; Carroz ratified it on Ferdinand's

behalf on 25th April, though Ferdinand had already

signed a truce with France. A good instance of

Ferdinand's duplicity may be found in _Sp. Cal._,

ii., 104, 207; in the former he is asking for the

hand of Renee for his grandson Ferdinand, in the

latter he tells the Pope that the report that he

had made this request was pure invention.]

* * * * *

For many months Henry knew not, or refused to credit, his father-in-law's

perfidy. To outward appearance, the Spanish King was as eager as ever

for the war in Guienne. He was urging Henry to levy 6,000 Germans (p. 062)

to serve for that purpose in conjunction with Spanish forces; and, in

April, Carroz, in ignorance of his master's real intentions, signed on

his behalf a treaty for the joint invasion of France.[122] This forced

the Catholic King to reveal his hand. He refused his ratification;[123]

now he declared the conquest of Guienne to be a task of such magnitude

that preparations must be complete before April, a date already past;

and he recommended Henry to come into the truce with Louis, the

existence of which he had now to confess. Henry had not yet fathomed

the depths; he even appealed to Ferdinand's feelings and pathetically

besought him, as a good father, not to forsake him entirely.[124] But

in vain; his father-in-law deserted him at his sorest hour of need. To

make peace was out of the question. England's honour had suffered a

stain that must at all costs be removed. No king with an atom of

spirit would let the dawn of his reign be clouded by such an admission

of failure. Wolsey was there to stiffen his temper in case of need;

with him it was almost a matter of life and death to retrieve the

disaster. His credit was pledged in the war. In their moments of anger

under the Spanish sun, the English commanders had loudly imputed to

Wolsey the origin of the war and the cause of all the mischief.[125]

Surrey, for whose banishment from Court the new favourite had

expressed to Fox a wish, and other "great men" at home, repeated the

charge.[126] Had Wolsey failed to bring honour with peace, his name

would not have been numbered among the greatest of England's

statesmen.

[Footnote 122: _Sp. Cal._, ii., 101.]

[Footnote 123: _Ib._, ii., 118, 122.]

[Footnote 124: _Ib._, ii., 125.]

[Footnote 125: _L. and P._, i., 3356, 3451.]

[Footnote 126: _Ib._, i., 3443.]

Henry's temper required no spur. Tudors never flinched in the face (p. 063)

of danger, and nothing could have made Henry so resolved to go on as

Ferdinand's desertion and advice to desist. He was prepared to avenge

his army in person. There were to be no expeditions to distant shores;

there was to be war in the Channel, where Englishmen were at home on

the sea; and Calais was to be the base of an invasion of France over

soil worn by the tramp of English troops. In March, 1513, Henry, to

whom the navy was a weapon, a plaything, a passion, watched his fleet

sail down the Thames; its further progress was told him in letters

from its gallant admiral, Sir Edmund Howard, who had been strictly

charged to inform the King of the minutest details in the behaviour of

every one of the ships.[127] Never had such a display of naval force

left the English shores; twenty-four ships ranging downwards from the

1,600 tons of the _Henry Imperial_, bore nearly 5,000 marines and

3,000 mariners.[128] The French dared not venture out, while Howard

swept the Channel, and sought them in their ports. Brest was

blockaded. A squadron of Mediterranean galleys coming to its relief

anchored in the shallow water off Conquet. Howard determined to cut

them out; he grappled and boarded their admiral's galley. The

grappling was cut away, his boat swept out in the tide, and Howard,

left unsupported, was thrust overboard by the Frenchmen's pikes.[129]

His death was regarded as a national disaster, but he had retrieved

England's reputation for foolhardy valour.

[Footnote 127: _L. and P._, i., 3809, 3820.]

[Footnote 128: _Ib._, i., 3977.]

[Footnote 129: _Ib._, i., 4005; see also _The War

of 1512-13_ (Navy Records Society) where the

documents are printed in full.]

Meanwhile, Henry's army was gathering at Calais.[130] On 30th (p. 064)

June, at 7 P.M., the King himself landed. Before his departure, the

unfortunate Edmund de la Pole, Earl of Suffolk, was brought to the

block for an alleged correspondence with his brother in Louis'

service, but really because rumours were rife of Louis' intention to

proclaim the White Rose as King of England.[131] On 21st July, Henry

left Calais to join his army, which had already advanced into French

territory. Heavy rains impeded its march and added to its discomfort.

Henry, we are told, did not put off his clothes, but rode round the

camp at three in the morning, cheering his men with the remark, "Well,

comrades, now that we have suffered in the beginning, fortune promises

us better things, God willing".[132] Near Ardres some German

mercenaries, of whom there were 8,000 with Henry's forces, pillaged

the church; Henry promptly had three of them hanged. On 1st August the

army sat down before Therouanne; on the 10th, the Emperor arrived to

serve as a private at a hundred crowns a day under the English

banners. Three days later a large French force arrived at Guinegate to

raise the siege; a panic seized it, and the bloodless rout that

followed was named the Battle of Spurs. Louis d'Orleans, Duc de

Longueville, the famous Chevalier Bayard, and others of the noblest

blood in France, were among the captives.[133] Ten days after this

defeat Therouanne surrendered; and on the 24th Henry made his (p. 065)

triumphal entry into the first town captured by English arms since

the days of Jeanne Darc. On the 26th he removed to Guinegate, where he

remained a week, "according," says a curious document, "to the laws of

arms, for in case any man would bid battle for the besieging and

getting of any city or town, then the winner (has) to give battle, and

to abide the same certain days".[134] No challenge was forthcoming,

and on 15th September Henry besieged Tournay, then said to be the

richest city north of Paris. During the progress of the siege the Lady

Margaret of Savoy, the Regent of the Netherlands, joined her father,

the Emperor, and Henry, at Lille. They discussed plans for renewing

the war next year and for the marriage of Charles and Mary. To please

the Lady Margaret and to exhibit his skill Henry played the gitteron,

the lute and the cornet, and danced and jousted before her.[135] He

"excelled every one as much in agility in breaking spears as in

nobleness of stature". Within a week Tournay fell; on 13th October

Henry commenced his return, and on the 21st he re-embarked at Calais.

[Footnote 130: _L. and P._, i., 3885, 3915. There

are three detailed diaries of the campaign in _L.

and P._, two anonymous (Nos. 4253, and 4306), and

the other (No. 4284) by John Taylor, afterwards

Master of the Rolls, for whom see the present

writer in _D.N.B_., lv., 429; the original of his

diary is in _Cotton MS._, Cleopatra, C., v. 64.]

[Footnote 131: _Ib._, i., 4324, 4328-29.]

[Footnote 132: Taylor's _Diary_.]

[Footnote 133: Besides the English accounts

referred to, see _L. and P._, i., 4401.]

[Footnote 134: _L. and P._, i., 4431.]

[Footnote 135: _Ven. Cal_., ii., 328.]

Therouanne, the Battle of Spurs, and Tournay were not the only, or the

most striking, successes in this year of war. In July, Catherine, whom

Henry had left as Regent in England, wrote that she was "horribly busy

with making standards, banners, and badges"[136] for the army in the

North; for war with France had brought, as usual, the Scots upon the

English backs. James IV., though Henry's brother-in-law, preferred to

be the cat's paw of the King of France; and in August the Scots

forces poured over the Border under the command of James himself. (p. 066)

England was prepared; and on 9th September, "at Flodden hills," sang

Skelton, "our bows and bills slew all the flower of their honour".

James IV. was left a mutilated corpse upon the field of battle.[137]

"He has paid," wrote Henry, "a heavier penalty for his perfidy than we

would have wished." There was some justice in the charge. James was

bound by treaty not to go to war with England; he had not even waited

for the Pope's answer to his request for absolution from his oath; and

his challenge to Henry, when he was in France and could not meet it,

was not a knightly deed. Henry wrote to Leo for permission to bury the

excommunicated Scottish King with royal honours in St. Paul's.[138]

The permission was granted, but the interment did not take place. In

Italy, Louis fared no better; at Novara, on 6th June, the Swiss

infantry broke in pieces the grand army of France, drove the fragments

across the Alps, and restored the Duchy of Milan to the native house

of Sforza.

[Footnote 136: _L. and P._, i., 4398; Ellis,

_Original Letters_, 1st ser., i., 83.]

[Footnote 137: _L. and P._, i., 4439, 4441, 4461;

_cf._ popular ballads in Weber's _Flodden Field_,

and _La Rotta de Scocese_ (Bannatyne Club).]

[Footnote 138: _Ven. Cal._, ii., 909; _Sp. Cal._,

i., 137; _L. and P._, i., 4502, 4582.]

* * * * *

The results of the campaign of 1513 were a striking vindication of the

refusal of Henry VIII. and Wolsey to rest under the stigma of their

Spanish expedition of 1512. English prestige was not only restored,

but raised higher than it had stood since the death of Henry V., whose

"name," said Pasqualigo, a Venetian in London, "Henry VIII. would now

renew". He styled him "our great King".[139] Peter Martyr, a resident

at Ferdinand's Court, declared that the Spanish King was "afraid (p. 067)

of the over-growing power of England".[140] Another Venetian in London

reported that "were Henry ambitious of dominion like others, he would

soon give law to the world". But, he added, "he is good and has a good

council. His quarrel was a just one, he marched to free the Church, to

obtain his own, and to liberate Italy from the French."[141] The pomp

and parade of Henry's wars have, indeed, somewhat obscured the

fundamentally pacific character of his reign. The correspondence of

the time bears constant witness to the peaceful tendencies of Henry

and his council. "I content myself," he once said to Giustinian, "with

my own, I only wish to command my own subjects; but, on the other

hand, I do not choose that any one shall have it in his power to

command me."[142] On another occasion he said: "We want all potentates

to content themselves with their own territories; we are content with

this island of ours"; and Giustinian, after four years' residence at

Henry's Court, gave it as his deliberate opinion to his Government,

that Henry did not covet his neighbours' goods, was satisfied with his

own dominions, and "extremely desirous of peace".[143] Ferdinand said,

in 1513, that his pensions from France and a free hand in Scotland

were all that Henry really desired;[144] and Carroz, his ambassador,

reported that Henry's councillors did not like to be at war with any

one.[145] Peace, they told Badoer, suited England better than

war.[146]

[Footnote 139: _Ven. Cal._, ii., 340.]

[Footnote 140: _L. and P._, i., 4864.]

[Footnote 141: _Ven. Cal._, ii., 362.]

[Footnote 142: _L. and P._, ii., 1991.]

[Footnote 143: _Ven. Cal._, ii., 1287; Giustinian,

_Desp._, App., ii., 309.]

[Footnote 144: _Sp. Cal._, ii., 142.]

[Footnote 145: _Ib._, ii., 201.]

[Footnote 146: _Ven. Cal._, ii., 298; _cf. L. and

P._, i., 3081.]

But Henry's actions proclaimed louder than the words of himself (p. 068)

or of others that he believed peace to be the first of English interests.

He waged no wars on the continent except against France; and though he

reigned thirty-eight years, his hostilities with France were compressed

into as many months. The campaigns of 1512-13, Surrey's and Suffolk's

inroads of 1522 and 1523, and Henry's invasion of 1544, represent the

sum of his military operations outside Great Britain and Ireland. He

acquired Tournay in 1513 and Boulogne in 1544, but the one was

restored in five years for an indemnity, and the other was to be given

back in eight for a similar consideration. These facts are in curious

contrast with the high-sounding schemes of recovering the crown of

France, which others were always suggesting to Henry, and which he,

for merely conventional reasons, was in the habit of enunciating

before going to war; and in view of the tenacity which Henry exhibited

in other respects, and the readiness with which he relinquished his

regal pretensions to France, it is difficult to believe that they were

any real expression of settled policy. They were, indeed, impossible

of achievement, and Henry saw the fact clearly enough.[147] Modern

phenomena such as huge armies sweeping over Europe, and capitals from

Berlin to Moscow, Paris to Madrid, falling before them, were quite

beyond military science of the sixteenth century. Armies fought, as a

rule, only in the five summer months; it was difficult enough to

victual them for even that time; and lack of commissariat or transport

crippled all the invasions of Scotland. Hertford sacked Edinburgh, (p. 069)

but he went by sea. No other capital except Rome saw an invading army.

Neither Henry nor Maximilian, Ferdinand nor Charles, ever penetrated

more than a few miles into France, and French armies got no further

into Spain, the Netherlands, or Germany. Machiavelli points out that

the chief safeguard of France against the Spaniards was that the latter

could not victual their army sufficiently to pass the Pyrenees.[148]

If in Italy it was different, it was because Italy herself invited the

invaders, and was mainly under foreign dominion. Henry knew that with

the means at his disposal he could never conquer France; his claims to

the crown were transparent conventions, and he was always ready for

peace in return for the _status quo_ and a money indemnity, with a

town or so for security.

[Footnote 147: In 1520 he described his title "King

of France" as a title given him by others which was

"good for nothing" (_Ven. Cal._, iii., 45). Its

value consisted in the pensions he received as a

sort of commutation.]

[Footnote 148: Machiavelli, _Opera_, iv., 139.]

The fact that he had only achieved a small part of the conquest he

professed to set out to accomplish was, therefore, no bar to

negotiations for peace. There were many reasons for ending the war;

the rapid diminution of his father's treasures; the accession to the

papal throne of the pacific Leo in place of the warlike Julius; the

absolution of Louis as a reward for renouncing the council of Pisa;

the interruption of the trade with Venice; the attention required by

Scotland now that her king was Henry's infant nephew; and lastly, his

betrayal first by Ferdinand and now by the Emperor. In October, 1513,

at Lille, a treaty had been drawn up binding Henry, Maximilian and

Ferdinand to a combined invasion of France before the following

June.[149] On 6th December, Ferdinand wrote to Henry to say he (p. 070)

had signed the treaty. He pointed out the sacrifices he was making

in so doing; he was induced to make them by considering that the war

was to be waged in the interests of the Holy Church, of Maximilian,

Henry, and Catherine, and by his wish and hope to live and die in

friendship with the Emperor and the King of England. He thought,

however, that to make sure of the assistance of God, the allies ought

to bind themselves, if He gave them the victory, to undertake a

general war on the infidel.[150] Ferdinand seems to have imagined that

he could dupe the Almighty as easily as he hoped to cheat his allies,

by a pledge which he never meant to fulfil. A fortnight after this

despatch he ordered Carroz not to ratify the treaty he himself had

already signed.[151] The reason was not far to seek. He was deluding

himself with the hope, which Louis shrewdly encouraged, that the

French King would, after his recent reverses, fall in with the

Spaniard's Italian plans.[152] Louis might even, he thought, of his

own accord cede Milan and Genoa, which would annihilate the French

King's influence in Italy, and greatly facilitate the attack on

Venice.

[Footnote 149: _Sp. Cal._, ii., 138, 143; _L. and

P._, i., 4511, 4560.]

[Footnote 150: _Sp. Cal._, ii., 132.]

[Footnote 151: _Ibid._, ii., 159.]

[Footnote 152: _Ibid._, ii., 158, 163.]

That design had occupied him throughout the summer, before Louis had

become so amenable; then he was urging Maximilian that the Pope must

be kept on their side and persuaded "not to forgive the great sins

committed by the King of France"; for if he removed his ecclesiastical

censures, Ferdinand and Maximilian "would be deprived of a plausible

excuse for confiscating the territories they intended to conquer".[153]

Providence was, as usual, to be bribed into assisting in the (p. 071)

robbery of Venice by a promise to make war on the Turk. But now that

Louis was prepared to give his daughter Renee in marriage to young

Ferdinand and to endow the couple with Milan and Genoa and his claims

on Naples, his sins might be forgiven. The two monarchs would not be

justified in making war upon France in face of these offers. Venice

remained a difficulty, for Louis was not likely to help to despoil his

faithful ally; but Ferdinand had a suggestion. They could all make

peace publicly guaranteeing the Republic's possessions, but Maximilian

and he could make a "mental reservation" enabling them to partition

Venice, when France could no longer prevent it.[154]

[Footnote 153: _Ibid._, ii., 131.]

[Footnote 154: _Sp. Cal._, ii., 153.]

So on 13th March, 1514, Ferdinand renewed his truce with France, and

Maximilian joined it soon after.[155] The old excuses about the

reformation of the Church, his death-bed desire to make peace with his

enemies, could scarcely be used again; so Ferdinand instructed his

agent to say, if Henry asked for an explanation, that there was a

secret conspiracy in Italy.[156] If he had said no more, it would have

been literally true, for the conspiracy was his own; but he went on to

relate that the conspiracy was being hatched by the Italians to drive

him and the Emperor out of the peninsula. The two were alike in their

treachery; both secretly entered the truce with France and broke their

promise to Henry. Another engagement of longer standing was ruptured.

Since 1508, Henry's sister Mary had been betrothed to Maximilian's

grandson Charles. The marriage was to take place when Charles was (p. 072)

fourteen; the pledge had been renewed at Lille, and the nuptials fixed

not later than 15th May, 1514.[157] Charles wrote to Mary signing

himself _votre mari_, while Mary was styled Princess of Castile,

carried about a bad portrait of Charles,[158] and diplomatically

sighed for his presence ten times a day. But winter wore on and turned

to spring; no sign was forthcoming of Maximilian's intention to keep

his grandson's engagement, and Charles was reported as having said

that he wanted a wife and not a mother.[159] All Henry's inquiries

were met by excuses; the Ides of May came and went, but they brought

no wedding between Mary and Charles.

[Footnote 155: _Ibid._, ii., 164; _Ven. Cal._, ii.,

389, 391, 401, 405.]

[Footnote 156: _Sp. Cal._, ii., 167.]

[Footnote 157: _L. and P._, i., 4560.]

[Footnote 158: _Ibid._, i., 5203.]

[Footnote 159: _Ven. Cal_., ii., 295. Charles was

fourteen, Mary eighteen years of age.]

Henry was learning by bitter experience. Not only was he left to face

single-handed the might of Louis; but Ferdinand and Maximilian had

secretly bound themselves to make war on him, if he carried out the

treaty to which they had all three publicly agreed. The man whom he

said he loved as a natural father, and the titular sovereign of

Christendom, had combined to cheat the boy-king who had come to the

throne with youthful enthusiasms and natural, generous instincts. "Nor

do I see," said Henry to Giustinian, "any faith in the world save in

me, and therefore God Almighty, who knows this, prospers my affairs."[160]

This absorbing belief in himself and his righteousness led to strange

aberrations in later years, but in 1514 it had some justification. "Je

vous assure," wrote Margaret of Savoy to her father, the Emperor, (p. 073)

"qu'en lui n'a nulle faintise." "At any rate," said Pasqualigo, "King

Henry has done himself great honour, and kept faith single-handed."[161]

A more striking testimony was forthcoming a year or two later. When

Charles succeeded Ferdinand, the Bishop of Badajos drew up for

Cardinal Ximenes a report on the state of the Prince's affairs. In it

he says: "The King of England has been truer to his engagements

towards the House of Austria than any other prince. The marriage of

the Prince with the Princess Mary, it must be confessed, did not take

place, but it may be questioned whether it was the fault of the King

of England or of the Prince and his advisers. However that may be,

with the exception of the marriage, the King of England has generally

fulfilled his obligations towards the Prince, and has behaved as a

trusty friend. An alliance with the English can be trusted most of

all."[162]

[Footnote 160: _L. and P._, ii., 3163.]

[Footnote 161: _Ven. Cal._, ii., 406.]

[Footnote 162: _Sp. Cal._, ii., 246.]

But the meekest and saintliest monarch could scarce pass unscathed

through the baptism of fraud practised on Henry; and Henry was at no

time saintly or meek. Ferdinand, he complained, induced him to enter

upon the war, and urged the Pope to use his influence with him for

that purpose; he had been at great expense, had assisted Maximilian,

taken Tournay, and reduced France to extremities; and now, when his

enemy was at his feet, Ferdinand talked of truce: he would never trust

any one again.[163] "Had the King of Spain," wrote a Venetian attache,

"kept his promise to the King of England, the latter would never have

made peace with France; and the promises of the Emperor were equally

false, for he had received many thousands of pounds from King (p. 074)

Henry, on condition that he was to be in person at Calais in the month

of May, with a considerable force in the King's pay; but the Emperor

pocketed the money and never came. His failure was the cause of all

that took place, for, as King Henry was deceived in every direction,

he thought fit to take this other course."[164] He discovered that he,

too, could play at the game of making peace behind the backs of his

nominal friends; and when once he had made up his mind, he played the

game with vastly more effect than Maximilian or Ferdinand. It was he

who had been really formidable to Louis, and Louis was therefore

prepared to pay him a higher price than to either of the others. In

February Henry had got wind of his allies' practices with France. In

the same month a nuncio started from Rome to mediate peace between

Henry and Louis;[165] but, before his arrival, informal advances had

probably been made through the Duc de Longueville, a prisoner in

England since the Battle of Spurs.[166] In January Louis' wife, Anne

of Brittany, had died. Louis was fifty-two years old, worn out and

decrepit; but at least half a dozen brides were proposed for his hand.

In March it was rumoured in Rome that he would choose Henry's sister

Mary, the rejected of Charles.[167] But Henry waited till May had

passed, and Maximilian had proclaimed to the world his breach of

promise. Negotiations for the alliance and marriage with Louis then

proceeded apace. Treaties for both were signed in August. Tournay

remained in Henry's hands, Louis increased the pensions paid by

France to England since the Treaty of Etaples, and both kings (p. 075)

bound themselves to render mutual aid against their common

foes.[168]

[Footnote 163: _L. and P._, i., 4864.]

[Footnote 164: _Ven. Cal._, ii., 505.]

[Footnote 165: _Ibid._, ii., 372.]

[Footnote 166: _Ibid._, ii., 505; _L. and P._, i.,

5173, 5278.]

[Footnote 167: _Ven. Cal._, ii., 383.]

[Footnote 168: _L. and P._, i., 5305; _Ven. Cal._,

ii., 482, 483.]

Maximilian and Ferdinand were left out in the cold. Louis not only

broke off his negotiations with them, but prepared to regain Milan and

discussed with Henry the revival of his father's schemes for the

conquest of Castile. Henry was to claim part of that kingdom in right

of his wife, the late Queen's daughter; later on a still more shadowy

title by descent was suggested. As early as 5th October, the Venetian

Government wrote to its ambassador in France, "commending extremely

the most sage proceeding of Louis in exhorting the King of England to

attack Castile".[169] Towards the end of the year it declared that

Louis had wished to attack Spain, and sought to arrange details in an

interview with Henry; but the English King would not consent, delayed

the interview, and refused the six thousand infantry required for the

purpose.[170] But Henry had certainly urged Louis to reconquer

Navarre,[171] and from the tenor of Louis' reply to Henry, late in

November, it would be inferred that the proposed conquest of Castile

also emanated from the English King or his ministers. Louis professed

not to know the laws of succession in Spain, but he was willing to

join the attack, apart from the merits of the case on which it was

based. Whether the suggestion originated in France or in England,

whether Henry eventually refused it or not, its serious discussion

shows how far Henry had travelled in his resentment at the double

dealing of Ferdinand. Carroz complained that he was treated by (p. 076)

the English "like a bull at whom every one throws darts,"[172] and

that Henry himself behaved in a most offensive manner whenever

Ferdinand's name was mentioned. "If," he added, "Ferdinand did not put

a bridle on this young colt," it would afterwards become impossible to

control him. The young colt was, indeed, already meditating a project,

to attain which he, in later years, took the bit in his teeth and

broke loose from control. He was not only betrayed into casting in

Catherine's teeth her father's ill faith, but threatening her with

divorce.[173]

[Footnote 169: _Ven. Cal._, ii., 495.]

[Footnote 170: _Ibid._, ii., 532, 542.]

[Footnote 171: _Sp. Cal._, ii., 192; _L. and P._,

i., 5637.]

[Footnote 172: _Sp. Cal._, ii., 201. A Venetian

reports that the English were so enraged that they

would have killed Carroz had it not been for Henry

(_Ven. Cal._, ii., 248), and Carroz was actually

placed in confinement.]

[Footnote 173: _L. and P._, i., 5718; _Ven. Cal._,

ii., 464.]

Henry had struck back with a vengeance. His blow shivered to fragments

the airy castles which Maximilian and Ferdinand were busy constructing.

Their plans for reviving the empire of Charlemagne, creating a new

kingdom in Italy, inducing Louis to cede Milan and Genoa and assist in

the conquest of Venice, disappeared like empty dreams. The younger

Ferdinand found no provision in Italy; he was compelled to retain his

Austrian inheritance, and thus to impair the power of the future

Charles V.; while the children's grandparents were left sadly

reflecting on means of defence against the Kings of England and

France. The blot on the triumph was Henry's desertion of Sforza,[174]

who, having gratefully acknowledged that to Henry he owed his

restoration of Milan,[175] was now left to the uncovenanted mercies

of Louis. But neither the credit nor discredit is due mainly to (p. 077)

Henry. He had learnt much, but his powers were not yet developed

enough to make him a match for the craft and guile of his rivals. The

consciousness of the fact made him rely more and more upon Wolsey, who

could easily beat both Maximilian and Ferdinand at their own game. He

was not more deceitful than they, but in grasp of detail, in boldness

and assiduity, he was vastly superior. While Ferdinand hawked, and

Maximilian hunted the chamois, Wolsey worked often for twelve hours

together at the cares of the State. Possibly, too, his clerical

profession and the cardinalate which he was soon to hold gave him an

advantage which they did not possess; for, whenever he wanted to obtain

credence for a more than usually monstrous perversion of truth, he

swore "as became a cardinal and on the honour of the cardinalate".[176]

His services were richly rewarded; besides livings, prebends,

deaneries and the Chancellorship of Cambridge University, he received

the Bishoprics of Lincoln and of Tournay, the Archbishopric of York,

and finally, in 1515, Cardinalate. This dignity he had already, in May

of the previous year, sent Polydore Vergil to claim from the Pope;

Vergil's mission was unknown to Henry, to whom the grant of the

Cardinal's hat was to be represented as Leo's own idea.[177]

[Footnote 174: _L. and P._, i., 5319.]

[Footnote 175: _Ibid._, i., 4499, 4921.]

[Footnote 176: _Cf._ _Ven. Cal._, ii., 695; _L. and

P._, ii., 1380. Giustinian complains that Wolsey

"never said what he meant but the reverse of what

he intended to do" (_Ibid._, ii., 3081). This

perhaps is no great crime in a diplomatist.]

[Footnote 177: _L. and P._, i., 5110, 5121. Henry's

request that Leo should make Wolsey a Cardinal was

not made till 12th Aug., 1514 (_L. and P._, i.,

5318), at least six months after Wolsey had

instructed Pace to negotiate for that honour.]

Henry VIII. · 第 3 / 16 章