CHAPTER IV. (p. 078)

THE THREE RIVALS.

The edifice which Wolsey had so laboriously built up was, however,

based on no surer foundation than the feeble life of a sickly monarch

already tottering to his grave. In the midst of his preparations for

the conquest of Milan and his negotiations for an attack upon Spain,

Louis XII. died on 1st January, 1515; and the stone which Wolsey had

barely rolled up the hill came down with a rush. The bourgeois Louis

was succeeded by the brilliant, ambitious and warlike Francis I., a

monarch who concealed under the mask of chivalry and the culture of

arts and letters a libertinism beside which the peccadilloes of Henry

or Charles seem virtue itself; whose person was tall and whose

features were described as handsome; but of whom an observer wrote

with unwonted candour that he "looked like the Devil".[178] The first

result of the change was an episode of genuine romance. The old King's

widow, "la reine blanche," was one of the most fascinating women of

the Tudor epoch. "I think," said a Fleming, "never man saw a more

beautiful creature, nor one having so much grace and sweetness."[179]

"He had never seen so beautiful a lady," repeated Maximilian's

ambassador, "her deportment is exquisite, both in conversation (p. 079)

and in dancing, and she is very lovely."[180] "She is very beautiful,"

echoed the staid old Venetian, Pasqualigo, "and has not her match in

England; she is tall, fair, of a light complexion with a colour, and

most affable and graceful"; he was warranted, he said, in describing

her as "a nymph from heaven".[181] A more critical observer of

feminine beauty thought her eyes and eyebrows too light,[182] but, as

an Italian, he may have been biassed in favour of brunettes, and even

he wound up by calling Mary "a Paradise". She was eighteen at the

time; her marriage with a dotard like Louis had shocked public

opinion;[183] and if, as was hinted, the gaieties in which his

youthful bride involved him, hastened the French King's end, there was

some poetic justice in the retribution. She had, as she reminded Henry

herself, only consented to marry the "very aged and sickly" monarch on

condition that, if she survived him, she should be allowed to choose

her second husband herself. And she went on to declare, that

"remembering the great virtue" in him, she had, as Henry himself was

aware, "always been of good mind to my Lord of Suffolk".[184]

[Footnote 178: _Ven. Cal._, ii., 582.]

[Footnote 179: _L. and P._, i., 4953.]

[Footnote 180: _L. and P._, i., 5203.]

[Footnote 181: _Ven. Cal._, ii., 499, 500.]

[Footnote 182: _Ibid._, ii., 511.]

[Footnote 183: _L. and P._, i., 5470.]

[Footnote 184: _Ibid._, ii., 227.]

She was probably fascinated less by Suffolk's virtue than by his bold

and handsome bearing. A bluff Englishman after the King's own heart,

he shared, as none else did, in Henry's love of the joust and tourney,

in his skill with the lance and the sword; he was the Hector of

combat, on foot and on horse, to Henry's Achilles. His father, plain

William Brandon, was Henry of Richmond's standard-bearer on Bosworth

field; and as such he had been singled out and killed in personal (p. 080)

encounter by Richard III. His death gave his son a claim on the

gratitude of Henry VII. and Henry VIII.; and similarity of tastes

secured him rapid promotion at the young King's Court. Created Viscount

Lisle, he served in 1513 as marshal of Henry's army throughout his

campaign in France. With the King there were said to be "two obstinate

men who governed everything";[185] one was Wolsey, the other was Brandon.

In July he was offering his hand to Margaret of Savoy, who was

informed that Brandon was "a second king," and that it would be well

to write him "a kind letter, for it is he who does and undoes".[186]

At Lille, in October, he continued his assault on Margaret as a relief

from the siege of Tournay; Henry favoured his suit, and when Margaret

called Brandon a _larron_ for stealing a ring from her finger, the

King was called in to help Brandon out with his French. Possibly it

was to smooth the course of his wooing that Brandon, early in 1514,

received an extraordinary advancement in rank. There was as yet only

one duke in England, but now Brandon was made Duke of Suffolk, at the

same time that the dukedom of Norfolk was restored to Surrey for his

victory at Flodden. Even a dukedom could barely make the son of a

simple esquire a match for an emperor's daughter, and the suit did not

prosper. Political reasons may have interfered. Suffolk, too, is

accused by the Venetian ambassador of having already had three

wives.[187] This seems to be an exaggeration, but the intricacy (p. 081)

of the Duke's marital relationships, and the facility with which he

renounced them might well have served as a precedent to his master in

later years.

[Footnote 185: _L. and P._, i., 4386.]

[Footnote 186: _Ibid._, i., 4405.]

[Footnote 187: _Ven. Cal._, ii., 464. He had made

contracts with three different ladies, but had not

actually married them all. See below, p. 199 and

_D.N.B._, _s.v._ "Brandon".]

In January, 1515, the Duke was sent to Paris to condole with Francis

on Louis' death, to congratulate him on his own accession, and renew

the league with England. Before he set out, Henry made him promise

that he would not marry Mary until their return. But Suffolk was not

the man to resist the tears of a beautiful woman in trouble, and he

found Mary in sore distress. No sooner was Louis dead than his

lascivious successor became, as Mary said, "importunate with her in

divers matters not to her honour," in suits "the which," wrote Suffolk,

"I and the Queen had rather be out of the world than abide".[188]

Every evening Francis forced his attentions upon the beautiful

widow.[189] Nor was this the only trouble which threatened the lovers.

There were reports that the French would not let Mary go, but marry

her somewhere to serve their own political purposes.[190] Henry, too,

might want to betroth her again to Charles; Maximilian was urging this

course, and telling Margaret that Mary must be recovered for Charles,

even at the point of the sword.[191] Early in January, Wolsey had

written to her, warning her not to make any fresh promise of marriage.

Two friars from England, sent apparently by Suffolk's secret enemies,

told Mary the same tale, that if she returned to England she would

never be suffered to marry the Duke, but made to take Charles for her

husband, "than which," she declared, "I would rather be torn in (p. 082)

pieces".[192] Suffolk tried in vain to soothe her fears. She refused

to listen, and brought him to his knees with the announcement that

unless he would wed her there and then, she would continue to believe

that he had come only to entice her back to England and force her into

marriage with Charles. What was the poor Duke to do, between his

promise to Henry and the pleading of Mary? He did what every other man

with a heart in his breast and warm blood in his veins would have

done, he cast prudence to the winds and secretly married the woman he

loved.

[Footnote 188: _L. and P._, ii., 134, 138, 163.]

[Footnote 189: _Ven. Cal._, ii., 574.]

[Footnote 190: _L. and P._, ii., 70, 85, 114.]

[Footnote 191: _Ven. Cal._, ii., 594; _L. and P._,

ii., 124.]

[Footnote 192: _L. and P._, ii., 80, Suffolk to

Henry VIII. This letter is placed under January in

the _Calendar_, but it was obviously written about

6th March, 1514-15.]

The news could not be long concealed, but unfortunately we have only

Wolsey's account of how it was received by Henry. He took it, wrote

the cardinal to Suffolk, "grievously and displeasantly," not only on

account of the Duke's presumption, but of the breach of his promise to

Henry.[193] "You are," he added, "in the greatest danger man was ever

in;" the council were calling for his ruin. To appease Henry and

enable the King to satisfy his council, Suffolk must induce Francis to

intervene in his favour, to pay Henry two hundred thousand crowns as

Mary's dowry, and to restore the plate and jewels she had received;

the Duke himself was to return the fortune with which Henry had endowed

his sister and pay twenty-four thousand pounds in yearly instalments

for the expenses of her marriage. Francis proved unexpectedly willing;

perhaps his better nature was touched by the lovers' distress. He also

saw that Mary's marriage with Suffolk prevented her being used as (p. 083)

a link to bind Charles to Henry; and he may have thought that a

service to Suffolk would secure him a powerful friend at the English

Court, a calculation that was partly justified by the suspicion under

which Suffolk henceforth laboured, of being too partial to Francis.

Yet it was with heavy hearts that the couple left Paris in April and

wended their way towards Calais. Henry had given no sign; from Calais,

Mary wrote to him saying she would go to a nunnery rather than marry

against her desire.[194] Suffolk threw himself on the King's mercy;

all the council, he said, except Wolsey, were determined to put him to

death.[195] Secretly, against his promise, and without Henry's

consent, he had married the King's sister, an act the temerity of

which no one has since ventured to rival. He saw the executioner's axe

gleam before his eyes, and he trembled.

[Footnote 193: _L. and P._, ii., 224.]

[Footnote 194: _L. and P._, ii., 228.]

[Footnote 195: _Ibid._, ii., 367.]

At Calais, Mary said she would stay until she heard from the King.[196]

His message has not been preserved, but fears were never more strangely

belied than when the pair crossed their Rubicon. So far from any attempt

being made to separate them, their marriage was publicly solemnised

before Henry and all his Court on 13th May, at Greenwich.[197] In

spite of all that happened, wrote the Venetian ambassador, Henry

retained his friendship for Suffolk;[198] and a few months later he

asserted, with some exaggeration, that the Duke's authority was

scarcely less than the King's.[199] He and Mary were indeed (p. 084)

required to return all the endowment, whether in money, plate, jewels

or furniture, that she received on her marriage. But both she and the

Duke had agreed to these terms before their offence.[200] They were

not unreasonable. Henry's money had been laid out for political

purposes which could no longer be served; and Mary did not expect the

splendour, as Duchess of Suffolk, which she had enjoyed as Queen of

France. The only stipulation that looks like a punishment was the bond

to repay the cost of her journey to France; though not only was this

modified later on, but the Duke received numerous grants of land to

help to defray the charge. They were indeed required to live in the

country; but the Duke still came up to joust as of old with Henry on

great occasions, and Mary remained his favourite sister, to whose

issue, in preference to that of Margaret, he left the crown by will.

The vindictive suspicions which afterwards grew to rank luxuriance in

Henry's mind were scarcely budding as yet; his favour to Suffolk and

affection for Mary were proof against the intrigues in his Court. The

contrast was marked between the event and the terrors which Wolsey had

painted; and it is hard to believe that the Cardinal played an

entirely disinterested part in the matter.[201] It was obviously his

cue to exaggerate the King's anger, and to represent to the Duke that

its mitigation was due to the Cardinal's influence; and it is more

than possible that Wolsey found in Suffolk's indiscretion the means of

removing a dangerous rival. The "two obstinate men" who had ruled (p. 085)

in Henry's camp were not likely to remain long united; Wolsey could

hardly approve of any "second king" but himself, especially a "second

king" who had acquired a family bond with the first. The Venetian

ambassador plainly hints that it was through Wolsey that Suffolk lost

favour.[202] In the occasional notices of him during the next few

years it is Wolsey, and not Henry, whom Suffolk is trying to appease;

and we even find the Cardinal secretly warning the King against some

designs of the Duke that probably existed only in his own

imagination.[203]

[Footnote 196: _Ibid._, ii., 367, 226. The letters

relating to this episode in _L. and P._ are often

undated and sometimes misplaced; _e.g._, this last

is placed under March, although from Nos. 295, 296,

319, 327, 331, we find that Mary did not leave

Paris till 16th April.]

[Footnote 197: _L. and P._, ii., 468.]

[Footnote 198: _Ven. Cal._, ii., 618.]

[Footnote 199: _Ven. Cal._, ii., 638.]

[Footnote 200: _L. and P._, ii., 436.]

[Footnote 201: Brewer's view is that Wolsey saved

Suffolk from ruin on this occasion.]

[Footnote 202: _Ven. Cal._, ii., 919.]

[Footnote 203: _L. and P._, ii., 4057, 4308; iii.,

1.]

* * * * *

This episode threw into the shade the main purpose of Suffolk's

embassy to France. It was to renew the treaty concluded the year

before, and apparently also the discussions for war upon Spain.

Francis was ready enough to confirm the treaty, particularly as it

left him free to pursue his designs on Milan. With a similar object he

made terms with the Archduke Charles, who this year assumed the

government of the Netherlands, but was completely under the control of

Chievres, a Frenchman by birth and sympathy, who signed his letters to

Francis "your humble servant and vassal".[204] Charles bound himself

to marry Louis XII.'s daughter Renee, and to give his grandfather

Ferdinand no aid unless he restored Navarre to Jean d'Albret. Thus

safeguarded from attack on his rear, Francis set out for Milan. The

Swiss had locked all the passes they thought practicable; but the

French generals, guided by chamois hunters and overcoming almost

insuperable obstacles, transported their artillery over the Alps (p. 086)

near Embrun; and on 13th September, at Marignano, the great "Battle of

the Giants" laid the whole of Northern Italy at the French King's

feet. At Bologna he met Leo X., whose lifelong endeavour was to be

found on both sides at once, or at least on the side of the bigger

battalions; the Pope recognised Francis's claim to Milan, while

Francis undertook to support the Medici in Florence, and to

countenance Leo's project for securing the Duchy of Urbino to his

nephew Lorenzo.

[Footnote 204: _Sp. Cal_., ii., 246.]

Henry watched with ill-concealed jealousy his rival's victorious

progress; his envy was personal, as well as political. "Francis,"

wrote the Bishop of Worcester in describing the interview between the

French King and the Pope at Bologna, "is tall in stature,

broad-shouldered, oval and handsome in face, very slender in the legs

and much inclined to corpulence."[205] His appearance was the subject

of critical inquiry by Henry himself. On May Day, 1515, Pasqualigo[206]

was summoned to Greenwich by the King, whom he found dressed in green,

"shoes and all," and mounted on a bay Frieslander sent him by the

Marquis of Mantua; his guard were also dressed in green and armed with

bows and arrows for the usual May Day sports. They breakfasted in

green bowers some distance from the palace. "His Majesty," continues

Pasqualigo, "came into our arbor, and addressing me in French, said:

'Talk with me awhile. The King of France, is he as tall as I am?' I

told him there was but little difference. He continued, 'Is he as

stout?' I said he was not; and he then inquired, 'What sort of legs

has he?' I replied 'Spare'. Whereupon he opened the front of his (p. 087)

doublet, and placing his hand on his thigh, said: 'Look here; and

I also have a good calf to my leg'. He then told me he was very fond

of this King of France, and that on more than three occasions he was

very near him with his army, but that he would never allow himself to

be seen, and always retreated, which His Majesty attributed to

deference for King Louis, who did not choose an engagement to take

place." After dinner, by way of showing his prowess, Henry "armed

himself _cap-a-pie_ and ran thirty courses, capsizing his opponent,

horse and all". Two months later, he said to Giustinian: "I am aware

that King Louis, although my brother-in-law, was a bad man. I know not

what this youth may be; he is, however, a Frenchman, nor can I say how

far you should trust him;"[207] and Giustinian says he at once

perceived the great rivalry for glory between the two young kings.

[Footnote 205: _L. and P._, ii., 1281.]

[Footnote 206: _Ibid._, ii., 411; Giustinian,

_Desp._, i., 90; _Ven. Cal._, ii., 624.]

[Footnote 207: _Ven. Cal_., ii., 652]

Henry now complained that Francis had concealed his Italian enterprise

from him, that he was ill-treating English subjects, and interfering

with matters in Scotland. The last was his real and chief ground for

resentment. Francis had no great belief that Henry would keep the

peace, and resist the temptation to attack him, if a suitable

opportunity were to arise. So he had sent the Duke of Albany to

provide Henry with an absorbing disturbance in Scotland. Since the

death of James IV. at Flodden, English influence had, in Margaret's

hands, been largely increased. Henry took upon himself to demand a

voice in Scotland's internal affairs. He claimed the title of

"Protector of Scotland"; and wrote to the Pope asking him to (p. 088)

appoint no Scottish bishops without his consent, and to reduce the

Archbishopric of St. Andrews to its ancient dependence on York.[208]

Many urged him to complete the conquest of Scotland, but this

apparently he refused on the ground that his own sister was really its

ruler and his own infant nephew its king. Margaret, however, as an

Englishwoman, was hated in Scotland, and she destroyed much of her

influence by marrying the Earl of Angus. So the Scots clamoured for

Albany, who had long been resident at the French Court and was heir to

the Scottish throne, should James IV.'s issue fail. His appearance was

the utter discomfiture of the party of England; Margaret was besieged

in Stirling and ultimately forced to give up her children to Albany's

keeping, and seek safety in flight to her brother's dominions.[209]

[Footnote 208: _L. and P._, i., 4483, 4502; ii.,

654.]

[Footnote 209: It was said by the Scots Estates

that she had forfeited her claim to their custody

by her marriage with Angus (_ibid._, ii., 1011).]

Technically, Francis had not broken his treaty with England, but he

had scarcely acted the part of a friend; and if Henry could retaliate

without breaking the peace, he would eagerly seize any opportunity

that offered. The alliance with Ferdinand and Maximilian was renewed,

and a new Holy League formed under Leo's auspices. But Leo soon

afterwards made his peace at Bologna with France. Charles was under

French influence, and Henry's council and people were not prepared for

war. So he refused, says Giustinian, Ferdinand's invitations to join

in an invasion of France. He did so from no love of Francis, and it

was probably Wolsey's ingenuity which suggested the not very scrupulous

means of gratifying Henry's wish for revenge. Maximilian was (p. 089)

still pursuing his endless quarrel with Venice; and the seizure of

Milan by the French and Venetian allies was a severe blow to

Maximilian himself, to the Swiss, and to their protege, Sforza. Wolsey

now sought to animate them all for an attempt to recover the duchy,

and Sforza promised him 10,000 ducats a year from the date of his

restoration. There was nothing but the spirit of his treaty with

France to prevent Henry spending his money as he thought fit; and it

was determined to hire 20,000 Swiss mercenaries to serve under the

Emperor in order to conquer Milan and revenge Marignano.[210] The

negotiation was one of great delicacy; not only was secrecy absolutely

essential, but the money must be carefully kept out of Maximilian's

reach. "Whenever," wrote Pace, "the King's money passed where the

Emperor was, he would always get some portion of it by force or false

promises of restitution."[211] The accusation was justified by

Maximilian's order to Margaret, his daughter, to seize Henry's

treasure as soon as he heard it was on the way to the Swiss.[212] "The

Emperor," said Julius II., "is light and inconstant, always begging

for other men's money, which he wastes in hunting the chamois."[213]

[Footnote 210: _L. and P._, ii., 1065.]

[Footnote 211: _Ibid._, ii., 1817.]

[Footnote 212: _Ibid._, ii., 1231.]

[Footnote 213: _Ibid._, ii., 1877.]

The envoy selected for this difficult mission was Richard Pace,

scholar and author, and friend of Erasmus and More. He had been in

Bainbridge's service at Rome, was then transferred to that of Wolsey

and Henry, and as the King's secretary, was afterwards thought to be

treading too close on the Cardinal's heels. He set out in October, and

arrived in Zurich just in time to prevent the Swiss from coming (p. 090)

to terms with Francis. Before winter had ended the plans for invasion

were settled. Maximilian came down with the snows from the mountains

in March; on the 23rd he crossed the Adda;[214] on the 25th he was

within nine miles of Milan, and almost in sight of the army of France.

On the 26th he turned and fled without striking a blow. Back he went

over the Adda, over the Oglio, up into Tyrol, leaving the French and

Venetians in secure possession of Northern Italy. A year later they

had recovered for Venice the last of the places of which it had been

robbed by the League of Cambrai.

[Footnote 214: _L. and P._, ii., 1697, 1699, 1721,

1729, 1736, 1754, 1831, 2011, 2034, 2114.]

Maximilian retreated, said Pace, voluntarily and shamefully, and was

now so degraded that it signified little whether he was a friend or an

enemy.[215] The cause of his ignominious flight still remains a

mystery; countless excuses were made by Maximilian and his friends. He

had heard that France and England had come to terms; 6,000 of the

Swiss infantry deserted to the French on the eve of the battle.

Ladislaus of Hungary had died, leaving him guardian of his son, and he

must go to arrange matters there. He had no money to pay his troops.

The last has an appearance of verisimilitude. Money was at the bottom

of all his difficulties, and drove him to the most ignominious shifts.

He had served as a private in Henry's army for 100 crowns a day. His

councillors robbed him; on one occasion he had not money to pay for

his dinner;[216] on another he sent down to Pace, who was ill in bed,

and extorted a loan by force. He had apparently seized 30,000 (p. 091)

crowns of Henry's pay for the Swiss;[217] the Fuggers, Welzers and

Frescobaldi, were also accused of failing to keep their engagements,

and only the first month's pay had been received by the Swiss when

they reached Milan. On the Emperor's retreat the wretched Pace was

seized by the Swiss and kept in prison as security for the remainder.[218]

His task had been rendered all the more difficult by the folly of

Wingfield, ambassador at Maximilian's Court, who, said Pace, "took the

Emperor for a god and believed that all his deeds and thoughts

proceeded _ex Spiritu Sancto_".[219] There was no love lost between

them; the lively Pace nicknamed his colleague "Summer shall be green,"

in illusion perhaps to Wingfield's unending platitudes, or to his

limitless belief in the Emperor's integrity and wisdom.[220] Wingfield

opened Pace's letters and discovered the gibe, which he parried by

avowing that he had never known the time when summer was not

green.[221] On another occasion he forged Pace's signature, with a

view of obtaining funds for Maximilian;[222] and he had the hardihood

to protest against Pace's appointment as Henry's secretary. At last

his conduct brought down a stinging rebuke from Henry;[223] but the

King's long-suffering was not yet exhausted, and Wingfield continued

as ambassador to the Emperors Court.

[Footnote 215: _Ibid._, ii., 1877.]

[Footnote 216: _Ibid._, ii., 2152, 1892, 1896,

2034, 2035.]

[Footnote 217: _L. and P._, ii., 1231, 1792, 1854.]

[Footnote 218: _Ibid._, ii., 1877.]

[Footnote 219: _Ibid._, ii., 1817.]

[Footnote 220: _Ibid._, ii., 1566, 1567.]

[Footnote 221: _Ibid._, ii., 1775.]

[Footnote 222: _Ibid._, ii., 1813.]

[Footnote 223: _Ibid._, ii., 2177.]

* * * * *

The failure of the Milan expedition taught Wolsey and Henry a bitter

but salutary lesson. It was their first attempt to intervene in a

sphere of action so distant from English shores and so remote (p. 092)

from English interests as the affairs of Italian States. Complaints in

England were loud against the waste of money; the sagacious Tunstall

wrote that he did not see why Henry should bind himself to maintain

other men's causes.[224] All the grandees, wrote Giustinian, were

opposed to Wolsey's policy, and its adoption was followed by what

Giustinian called a change of ministry in England.[225] Warham

relinquished the burdens of the Chancellorship which he had long

unwillingly borne; Fox sought to atone for twenty-eight years' neglect

of his diocese by spending in it the rest of his days.[226] Wolsey

succeeded Warham as Chancellor, and Ruthal, who "sang treble to

Wolsey's bass,"[227] became Lord Privy Seal in place of Fox. Suffolk

was out of favour, and the neglect of his and Fox's advice was,

according to the Venetian, resented by the people, who murmured

against the taxes which Wolsey's intervention in foreign affairs

involved.

[Footnote 224: _L. and P._, ii., 2270.]

[Footnote 225: _Ibid._, ii., 1814, 2487, 2500.]

[Footnote 226: _Ven. Cal._, ii., 750, 798, 801; _L.

and P._, ii., 2183.]

[Footnote 227: _L. and P._, ii., 2205.]

But Wolsey still hoped that bribes would keep Maximilian faithful to

England and induce him to counteract the French influences with which

his grandson Charles was surrounded. Ferdinand had died in January,

1516,[228] having, said the English envoy at his Court, wilfully

shortened his life by hunting and hawking in all weathers, and following

the advice of his falconers rather than that of his physicians.

Charles thus succeeded to Castile, Aragon and Naples;[229] but (p. 093)

Naples was seriously threatened by the failure of Maximilian's

expedition and the omnipotence of Francis in Italy. "The Pope is

French," wrote an English diplomatist, "and everything from Rome to

Calais."[230] To save Naples, Charles, in July, 1516, entered into the

humiliating Treaty of Noyon with France.[231] He bound himself to

marry Francis's infant daughter, Charlotte, to do justice to Jean

d'Albret in the matter of Navarre, and to surrender Naples, Navarre,

and Artois, if he failed to keep his engagement. Such a treaty was not

likely to stand; but, for the time, it was a great feather in

Francis's cap, and a further step towards the isolation of England. It

was the work of Charles's Gallicised ministry, and Maximilian

professed the utmost disgust at their doings. He was eager to come

down to the Netherlands with a view to breaking the Treaty of Noyon

and removing his grandson's advisers, but of course he must have money

from England to pay his expenses. The money accordingly came from the

apparently bottomless English purse;[232] and in January, 1517, the

Emperor marched down to the Netherlands, breathing, in his despatches

to Henry, threatenings and slaughter against Charles's misleaders. His

descent on Flanders eclipsed his march on Milan. "Mon fils," he said

to Charles, "vous allez tromper les Francais, et moi, je vais tromper

les Anglais."[233] So far from breaking the Treaty of Noyon, he (p. 094)

joined it himself, and at Brussels solemnly swore to observe its

provisions. He probably thought he had touched the bottom of Henry's

purse, and that it was time to dip into Francis's. Seventy-five

thousand crowns was his price for betraying Henry.[234]

[Footnote 228: On 23rd Jan. (_L. and P._, ii.,

1541, 1610). Brewer in his introduction to vol. ii.

of the _L. and P._ says "in February".]

[Footnote 229: His mother Juana was rightfully

Queen, but she was regarded as mad; she thought her

husband, the Archduke Philip, might come to life

again, and carried him about in a coffin with her

wherever she went (_Ven. Cal._, ii., 564).]

[Footnote 230: _L. and P._, ii., 2930.]

[Footnote 231: _L. and P._, ii., 2303, 2327, 2387;

_Ven. Cal._, ii., 769, 773.]

[Footnote 232: _L. and P._, ii., 2406, 2573, 2626,

2702.]

[Footnote 233: _Ibid._, ii., 2930.]

[Footnote 234: _L. and P._, ii., 2891.]

In conveying the news to Wolsey, Tunstall begged him to urge Henry "to

refrain from his first passions" and "to draw his foot out of the

affair as gently as if he perceived it not, giving good words for good

words which they yet give us, thinking our heads to be so gross that

we perceive not their abuses".[235] Their persistent advances to

Charles had, he thought, done them more harm than good; let the King

shut his purse in time, and he would soon have Charles and the Emperor

again at his feet.[236] Tunstall was ably seconded by Dr. William

Knight, who thought it would be foolish for England to attempt to undo

the Treaty of Noyon; it contained within itself the seeds of its own

dissolution. Charles would not wait to marry Francis's daughter, and

then the breach would come.[237] Henry and Wolsey had the good sense

to act on this sound advice. Maximilian, Francis and Charles formed at

Cambrai a fresh league for the partition of Italy,[238] but they were

soon at enmity and too much involved with their own affairs to think

of the conquest of others. Disaffection was rife in Spain, where a

party wished Ferdinand, Charles's brother, to be King.[239] If Charles

was to retain his Spanish kingdoms, he must visit them at once. He

could not go unless England provided the means. His request for (p. 095)

a loan was graciously accorded and his ambassadors were treated with

magnificent courtesy.[240] "One day," says Chieregati,[241] the papal

envoy in England, "the King sent for these ambassadors, and kept them

to dine with him privately in his chamber with the Queen, a very

unusual proceeding. After dinner he took to singing and playing on

every musical instrument, and exhibited a part of his very excellent

endowments. At length he commenced dancing," and, continues another

narrator, "doing marvellous things, both in dancing and jumping,

proving himself, as he is in truth, indefatigable." On another day

there was "a most stately joust." Henry was magnificently attired in

"cloth of silver with a raised pile, and wrought throughout with

emblematic letters". When he had made the usual display in the lists,

the Duke of Suffolk entered from the other end, with well-nigh equal

array and pomp. He was accompanied by fourteen other jousters. "The

King wanted to joust with all of them; but this was forbidden by the

council, which, moreover, decided that each jouster was to run six

courses and no more, so that the entertainment might be ended on that

day.... The competitor assigned to the King was the Duke of Suffolk;

and they bore themselves so bravely that the spectators fancied

themselves witnessing a joust between Hector and Achilles." "They

tilted," says Sagudino, "eight courses, both shivering their lances at

every time, to the great applause of the spectators." Chieregati

continues: "On arriving in the lists the King presented himself before

the Queen and the ladies, making a thousand jumps in the air, and (p. 096)

after tiring one horse, he entered the tent and mounted another...

doing this constantly, and reappearing in the lists until the end of

the jousts". Dinner was then served, amid a scene of unparalleled

splendour, and Chieregati avers that the "guests remained at table for

seven hours by the clock". The display of costume on the King's part

was equally varied and gorgeous. On one occasion he wore "stiff

brocade in the Hungarian fashion," on another, he "was dressed in

white damask in the Turkish fashion, the above-mentioned robe all

embroidered with roses, made of rubies and diamonds"; on a third, he

"wore royal robes down to the ground, of gold brocade lined with

ermine"; while "all the rest of the Court glittered with jewels and

gold and silver, the pomp being unprecedented".

[Footnote 235: _Ibid._, ii., 2923, 2940.]

[Footnote 236: _Ibid._, ii., 2910.]

[Footnote 237: _Ibid._, ii., 2930.]

[Footnote 238: _Ibid._, ii., 2632, 3008; _Monumenta

Habsburgica_, ii., 37.]

[Footnote 239: _L. and P._, ii., 3076, 3077, 3081.]

[Footnote 240: _L. and P._, ii., 3402, 3439-41.]

[Footnote 241: _Ven. Cal._, ii., 918; _L. and P._,

ii., 3455, 3462.]

All this riot of wealth would no doubt impress the impecunious

Charles. In September he landed in Spain, so destitute that he was

glad to accept the offer of a hobby from the English ambassador.[242]

At the first meeting of his Cortes, they demanded that he should marry

at once, and not wait for Francis's daughter; the bride his subjects

desired was the daughter of the King of Portugal.[243] They were no

more willing to part with Navarre; and Charles was forced to make to

Francis the feeble excuse that he was not aware, when he was in the

Netherlands, of his true title to Navarre, but had learnt it since his

arrival in Spain; he also declined the personal interview to which

Francis invited him.[244] A rupture between Francis and Charles was

only a question of time; and, to prepare for it, both were anxious (p. 097)

for England's alliance. Throughout the autumn of 1517 and spring of

1518, France and England were feeling their way towards friendship.

Albany had left Scotland, so that source of irritation was gone. Henry

had now a daughter, Mary, and Francis a son. "I will unite them," said

Wolsey;[245] and in October, 1518, not only was a treaty of marriage

and alliance signed between England and France, but a general peace

for Europe. Leo X. sent Campeggio with blessings of peace from the

Vicar of Christ, though he was kept chafing at Calais for three

months, till he could bring with him Leo's appointment of Wolsey as

legate and the deposition of Wolsey's enemy, Hadrian, from the

Bishopric of Bath and Wells.[246] The ceremonies exceeded in splendour

even those of the year before. They included, says Giustinian, a "most

sumptuous supper" at Wolsey's house, "the like of which, I fancy, was

never given by Cleopatra or Caligula; the whole banqueting hall being

so decorated with huge vases of gold and silver, that I fancied myself

in the tower of Chosroes,[247] when that monarch caused Divine honours

to be paid him. After supper... twelve male and twelve female dancers

made their appearance in the richest and most sumptuous array possible,

being all dressed alike.... They were disguised in one suit of fine

green satin, all over covered with cloth of gold, undertied together

with laces of gold, and had masking hoods on their heads; the ladies

had tires made of braids of damask gold, with long hairs of white

gold. All these maskers danced at one time, and after they had danced

they put off their visors, and then they were all known.... The (p. 098)

two leaders were the King and the Queen Dowager of France, and all the

others were lords and ladies."[248] These festivities were followed by

the formal ratification of peace.[249] Approval of it was general, and

the old councillors who had been alienated by Wolsey's Milan expedition,

hastened to applaud. "It was the best deed," wrote Fox to Wolsey,

"that ever was done for England, and, next to the King, the praise of

it is due to you."[250] Once more the wheel had come round, and the

stone of Sisyphus was lodged more secure than before some way up the

side of the hill.

[Footnote 242: _L. and P._, ii., 3705.]

[Footnote 243: _Ibid._, ii., 4022.]

[Footnote 244: _Ibid._, ii., 4164, 4188.]

[Footnote 245: _L. and P._, ii., 4047.]

[Footnote 246: _Ibid._, ii., 4348.]

[Footnote 247: Chosroes I. (Nushirvan) of Persia.]

[Footnote 248: _Ven. Cal._, ii., 1085, 1088; _cf._

Shakespeare, _Henry VIII_.]

[Footnote 249: _L. and P._, ii., 4468, 4483, 4564,

4669.]

[Footnote 250: _Ibid._, ii., 4540.]

* * * * *

This general peace, which closed the wars begun ten years before by

the League of Cambrai, was not entirely due to a universal desire to

beat swords into ploughshares or to even turn them against the Turk.

That was the everlasting pretence, but eighteen months before,

Maximilian had suffered a stroke of apoplexy; men, said Giustinian,

commenting on the fact, did not usually survive such strokes a year,

and rivals were preparing to enter the lists for the Empire.

Maximilian himself, faithful to the end to his guiding principle,

found a last inspiration in the idea of disposing of his succession

for ready money. He was writing to Charles that it was useless to

expect the Empire unless he would spend at least as much as the

French.[251] "It would be lamentable," he said, "if we should now lose

all through some pitiful omission or penurious neglect;" and Francis

was "going about covertly and laying many baits,"[252] to attain (p. 099)

the imperial crown. To Henry himself Maximilian had more than once

offered the prize, and Pace had declared that the offer was only

another design for extracting Henry's gold "for the electors would

never allow the crown to go out of their nation".[253] The Emperor had

first proposed it while serving under Henry's banners in France.[254]

He renewed the suggestion in 1516, inviting Henry to meet him at

Coire. The brothers in arms were thence to cross the Alps to Milan,

where the Emperor would invest the English King with the duchy; he

would then take him on to Rome, resign the Empire himself, and have

Henry crowned. Not that Maximilian desired to forsake all earthly

authority; he sought to combine a spiritual with a temporal glory; he

was to lay down the imperial crown and place on his brows the papal

tiara.[255] Nothing was too fantastic for the Emperor Maximilian; the

man who could not wrest a few towns from Venice was always deluding

himself with the hope of leading victorious hosts to the seat of the

Turkish Empire and the Holy City of Christendom; the sovereign whose

main incentive in life was gold, informed his daughter that he

intended to get himself canonised, and that after his death she would

have to adore him. He died at Welz on 12th January, 1519, neither Pope

nor saint, with Jerusalem still in the hands of the Turk, and the

succession to the Empire still undecided.

[Footnote 251: _Ibid._, ii., 4172.]

[Footnote 252: _L. and P._, ii., 4159.]

[Footnote 253: _Ibid._, ii., 1923.]

[Footnote 254: _Ibid._, ii., 1398, 1878, 1902,

2218, 2911, 4257.]

[Footnote 255: _Cf._ W. Boehm, _Hat Kaiser

Maximilian I. im Jahre 1511 Papst werden wollen?_

1873.]

The contest now broke out in earnest, and the electors prepared (p. 100)

to garner their harvest of gold. The price of a vote was a hundredfold

more than the most corrupt parliamentary elector could conceive in his

wildest dreams of avarice. There were only seven electors and the prize

was the greatest on earth. Francis I. said he was ready to spend

3,000,000 crowns, and Charles could not afford to lag far behind.[256]

The Margrave of Brandenburg, "the father of all greediness," as the

Austrians called him, was particularly influential because his brother,

the Archbishop of Mainz, was also an elector and he required an

especially exorbitant bribe. He was ambitious as well as covetous, and

the rivals endeavoured to satisfy his ambitions with matrimonial

prizes. He was promised Ferdinand's widow, Germaine de Foix; Francis

sought to parry this blow by offering to the Margrave's son the French

Princess Renee; Charles bid higher by offering his sister Catherine.[257]

Francis relied much on his personal graces, the military renown he had

won by the conquest of Northern Italy, and the assistance of Leo. With

the Pope he concluded a fresh treaty that year for the conquest of

Ferrara, the extension of the papal States, and the settlement of

Naples on Francis's second son, on condition that it was meanwhile to

be administered by papal legates,[258] and that its king was to

abstain from all interference in spiritual matters. Charles, on the

other hand, owed his advantages to his position and not to his person.

Cold, reserved and formal, he possessed none of the physical or

intellectual graces of Francis I. and Henry VIII. He excelled in (p. 101)

no sport, was unpleasant in features and repellent in manners. No

gleam of magnanimity or chivalry lightened his character, no deeds in

war or statecraft yet sounded his fame. He was none the less heir of

the Austrian House, which for generations had worn the imperial crown;

as such, too, he was a German prince, and the Germanic constitution

forbade any other the sovereignty of the Holy Roman Empire. Against

this was the fact that his enormous dominions, including Naples and

Spain, would preclude his continued residence in Germany and might

threaten the liberties of the German people.

[Footnote 256: For details of the sums promised to

the various German princes see _L. and P._, iii.,

36, etc.; it has been said that there was really

little or no bribery at this election.]

[Footnote 257: _Ven. Cal._, ii., 1165, 1187; _L.

and P._, ii., 4159; iii., 130.]

[Footnote 258: _Sp. Cal._, ii., 267.]

But was there no third candidate? Leo at heart regarded the election

of either as an absolute evil.[259] He had always dreaded Maximilian's

claims to the temporal power of the Church, though Maximilian held not

a foot of Italian soil. How much more would he dread those claims in

the hands of Francis or Charles! One threatened the papal States from

Milan, and the other from Naples. Of the two, he feared Francis the

less;[260] for the union of Naples with the Empire had been such a

terror to the Popes, that before granting the investiture of that

kingdom, they bound its king by oath not to compete for the Empire.[261]

But a third candidate would offer an escape from between the upper and

the nether mill-stone; and Leo suggested at one time Charles's brother

Ferdinand,[262] at another a German elector. Precisely the same

recommendations had been secretly made by Henry VIII. In public he

followed the course he commended to Leo; he advocated the claims (p. 102)

of both Charles and Francis, when asked so to do, but sent trusty

envoys with his testimonials to explain that no credence was to be

given them.[263] He told the French King that he favoured the election

of Francis, and the Spanish King the election of Charles, but like Leo

he desired in truth the election of neither. Why should he not come

forward himself? His dominions were not so extensive that, when

combined with the imperial dignity, they would threaten to dominate

Europe; and his election might seem to provide a useful check in the

balance of power. In March he had already told Francis that his claims

were favoured by some of the electors, though he professed a wish to

promote the French King's pretensions. In May, Pace was sent to

Germany with secret instructions to endeavour to balance the parties

and force the electors into a deadlock, from which the only escape

would be the election of a third candidate, either Henry himself or

some German prince. It is difficult to believe that Henry really

thought his election possible or was seriously pushing his claim. He

had repeatedly declined Maximilian's offers; he had been as often

warned by trusty advisers that no non-German prince stood a chance of

election; he had expressed his content with his own islands, which,

Tunstall told him with truth, were an Empire worth more than the

barren imperial crown.[264] Pace went far too late to secure a party

for Henry, and, what was even more fatal, he went without the

persuasive of money. Norfolk told Giustinian, after Pace's departure,

that the election would fall on a German prince, and such, said the

Venetian, was the universal belief and desire in England.[265] (p. 103)

After the election, Leo expressed his "regret that Henry gave no

attention to a project which would have made him a near, instead of a

distant, neighbour of the papal States". Under the circumstances, it

seems more probable that the first alternative in Pace's instructions

no more represented a settled design in Henry's mind than his

often-professed intention of conquering France, and that the real

purport of his mission was to promote the election of the Duke of

Saxony or another German prince.[266]

[Footnote 259: _L. and P._, iii., 149.]

[Footnote 260: _Ven. Cal._, ii., 1227.]

[Footnote 261: _Ibid._, ii., 1246.]

[Footnote 262: _Ibid._, ii., 1163.]

[Footnote 263: _L. and P._, iii., 137.]

[Footnote 264: _Ibid._, ii., 2911.]

[Footnote 265: _Ven. Cal._, ii., 1220.]

[Footnote 266: _L. and P._, ii., 241.]

Whether that was its object or not the mission was foredoomed to

failure. The conclusion was never really in doubt. Electors might

trouble the waters in order to fish with more success. They might

pretend to Francis that if he was free with his money he might be

elected, and to Charles that unless he was free with his money he

would not, but no sufficient reason had been shown why they should

violate national prejudices, the laws of the Empire, and prescriptive

hereditary right, in order to place Henry or Francis instead of a

German upon the imperial throne. Neither people nor princes nor

barons, wrote Leo's envoys, would permit the election of the Most

Christian King;[267] and even if the electors wished to elect him, it

was not in their power to do so. The whole of the nation, said Pace,

was in arms and furious for Charles; and had Henry been elected, they

would in their indignation have killed Pace and all his servants.[268]

The voice of the German people spoke in no uncertain tones; they would

have Charles and no other to be their ruler. Leo himself saw the (p. 104)

futility of resistance, and making a virtue of necessity, he sent

Charles an absolution from his oath as King of Naples. As soon as it

arrived, the electors unanimously declared Charles their Emperor on

28th June.[269]

[Footnote 267: _Ven. Cal._, ii., 1227.]

[Footnote 268: _L. and P._, iii., 326.]

[Footnote 269: _L. and P._, iii., 339.]

Thus was completed the shuffling of the cards for the struggle which

lasted till Henry's death. Francis had now succeeded to Louis, Charles

to both his grandfathers, and Henry at twenty-eight was the _doyen_ of

the princes of Europe. He was two years older than Francis and eight

years older than Charles. Europe had passed under the rule of youthful

triumvirs whose rivalry troubled its peace and guided its destinies

for nearly thirty years. The youngest of all was the greatest in

power. His dominions, it is true, were disjointed, and funds were

often to seek, but these defects have been overrated. It was neither

of these which proved his greatest embarrassment. It was a cloud in

Germany, as yet no bigger than a man's hand, but soon to darken the

face of Europe. Ferdinand and Maximilian had at times been dangerous;

Charles wielded the power of both. He ruled over Castile and Aragon,

the Netherlands and Naples, Burgundy and Austria; he could command the

finest military forces in Europe; the infantry of Spain, the science

of Italy, the lance-knights of Germany, for which Ferdinand sighed,

were at his disposal; and the wealth of the Indies was poured out at

his feet. He bestrode the narrow world like a Colossus, and the only

hope of lesser men lay in the maintenance of Francis's power. Were

that to fail, Charles would become arbiter of Christendom, Italy a

Spanish kingdom, and the Pope little more than the Emperor's (p. 105)

chaplain. "Great masters," said Tunstall, with reference to a papal

brief urged by Charles in excuse for his action in 1517, "could get

great clerks to say what they liked."[270] The mastery of Charles in

1517 was but the shadow of what it became ten years later; and if

under its dominance "the great clerk" were called upon to decide

between "the great master" and Henry, it was obvious already that all

Henry's services to the Papacy would count for nothing.

[Footnote 270: _L. and P._, ii., 3054.]

* * * * *

For the present, those services were to be remembered. They were not,

indeed, inconsiderable. It would be absurd to maintain that, since his

accession, Henry had been actuated by respect for the Papacy more than

by another motive; but it is indisputable that that motive had entered

more largely into his conduct than into that of any other monarch.

James IV. and Louis had been excommunicated, Maximilian had obstinately

countenanced a schismatic council and wished to arrogate to himself

the Pope's temporal power. Ferdinand's zeal for his house had eaten

him up and left little room for less selfish impulses; his anxiety for

war with the Moor or the Turk was but a cloak; and the value of his

frequent demands for a Reformation may be gauged by his opinion that

never was there more need for the Inquisition, and by his anger with

Leo for refusing the Inquisitors the preferments he asked.[271] From

hypocrisy like Ferdinand's Henry was, in his early years, singularly

free, and the devotion to the Holy See, which he inherited, was of a

more than conventional type. "He is very religious," wrote (p. 106)

Giustinian, "and hears three masses daily when he hunts, and sometimes

five on other days. He hears the office every day in the Queen's chamber,

that is to say, vesper and compline."[272] The best theologians and

doctors in his kingdom were regularly required to preach at his Court,

when their fee for each sermon was equivalent to ten or twelve pounds.

He was generous in his almsgiving, and his usual offering on Sundays

and saints' days was six shillings and eightpence or, in modern

currency, nearly four pounds; often it was double that amount, and

there were special offerings besides, such as the twenty shillings he

sent every year to the shrine of St. Thomas at Canterbury. In January,

1511, the gentlemen of the King's chapel were paid what would now be

seventy-five pounds for praying for the Queen's safe delivery, and

similar sums were no doubt paid on other occasions.[273] In 1513,

Catherine thought Henry's success was all due to his zeal for

religion,[274] and a year or two later Erasmus wrote that Henry's

Court was an example to all Christendom for learning and piety.[275]

[Footnote 271: _Sp. Cal._, ii., 80, 89, 167, 175.]

[Footnote 272: _Ven. Cal._, ii., 1287; Giustinian,

_Desp._, ii., App., 309; _L. and P._, iii., 402.]

[Footnote 273: These details are from the King's

"Book of Payments" calendared at the end of _L. and

P._, vol. ii.]

[Footnote 274: _L. and P._, i., 4417.]

[Footnote 275: _Ibid._, ii., 4115.]

Piety went hand in hand with a filial respect for the head of the

Church. Not once in the ten years is there to be found any expression

from Henry of contempt for the Pope, whether he was Julius II. or Leo

X. There had been no occasion on which Pope and King had been brought

into conflict, and almost throughout they had acted in perfect harmony.

It was the siege of Julius by Louis that drew Henry from his peaceful

policy to intervene as the champion of the Papal See, and it was (p. 107)

as the executor of papal censures that he made war on France.[276] If

he had ulterior views on that kingdom, he could plead the justification

of a brief, drawn up if not published, by Julius II., investing him

with the French crown.[277] A papal envoy came to urge peace in 1514,

and a Pope claimed first to have suggested the marriage between Mary

and Louis.[278] The Milan expedition of 1516 was made under cover of a

new Holy League concluded in the spring of the previous year, and the

peace of 1518 was made with the full approval and blessings of Leo.

Henry's devotion had been often acknowledged in words, and twice by

tangible tokens of gratitude, in the gift of the golden rose in 1510

and of the sword and cap in 1513.[279] But did not his services merit

some more signal mark of favour? If Ferdinand was "Catholic," and

Louis "Most Christian," might not some title be found for a genuine

friend? And, as early as 1515, Henry was pressing the Pope for "some

title as protector of the Holy See".[280] Various names were suggested,

"King Apostolic," "King Orthodox," and others; and in January, 1516,

we find the first mention of "Fidei Defensor".[281] But the prize was

to be won by services more appropriate to the title than even ten

years' maintenance of the Pope's temporal interests. His championship

of the Holy See had been the most unselfish part of Henry's policy

since he came to the throne; and his whole conduct had been an

example, which others were slow to follow, and which Henry himself was

soon to neglect.

[Footnote 276: _L. and P._, i., 3876, 4283.]

[Footnote 277: _Arch. R. Soc. Rom._, xix., 3, 4.]

[Footnote 278: _L. and P._, i., 5543.]

[Footnote 279: _Ven. Cal._, ii., 53-54, 361; _L.

and P._, i., 976, 4621.]

[Footnote 280: _Ibid._, ii., 887, 967.]

[Footnote 281: _Ibid._, ii., 1456, 1928; iii.,

1369.]

Henry VIII. · 第 4 / 16 章