Chapter IX: Book VI: The Courtship of Henry VIII (2)

As if to make amends for these delays, the great lords in attendance overwhelmed the Ambassadors with civilities. Aerschot invited them to dinner; Count Büren embraced them warmly and asked affectionately after the King; De Praet, Molembais, and Iselstein, escorted them to the door, and Don Diego made them a present of wine. When Wriothesley fell ill of fever at Cambray, the Queen sent her own physician to attend him, and begged him either to remain there or return to Brussels. This he refused to do, and travelled on by slow stages to Compiègne, hoping to obtain another audience there. But the roads were bad, and two leagues from Cambray one of the carts broke down, leaving the English without household stuff or plate when Don Diego came to supper.[209]

On Tuesday news reached Cambray that King Francis was on his way to salute the Queen, and Mary rode out to meet him, leaving the Duchess of Milan at home with others, who like herself, remarks Wriothesley, had no great liking for Frenchmen.[210] But the King's greeting was most cordial, and when, on the following day, Queen Eleanor arrived with a great train of lords and ladies, there was much feasting and merriment, until on the 10th the whole party started for Compiègne.

It was a brilliant company that met in the ancient castle of the French Kings, in the forest on the banks of the Oise, near the bridge where, a hundred years before, Jeanne d'Arc had made her last heroic stand. King Francis had summoned all the Princes and Princesses of the blood to do honour to the Queen of Hungary, and the neighbouring villages were filled to overflowing with Court officials and servants. There was the King himself, a fine figure in cloth of gold and nodding plumes, gallant as ever in spite of ill-health and advancing years, with a glance and smile to spare for every fair lady; and there was his consort, Queen Eleanor, too often neglected by her fickle lord, but now radiant with happiness, and in her beautiful robes and priceless pearls, as winning and almost as fair as when she fascinated the young Palatine twenty years ago. The sense of family affection was as strong in Eleanor as in all the Habsburgs, and she was overjoyed to meet her sister and embrace the daughter of the beloved and lamented Isabella. With her came the King's daughter Margaret, the homely-featured but pleasing and accomplished Princess for whom a royal husband was still to be found, and who, the courtiers whispered, might now wed the Prince of Spain.

[Sidenote: OCT., 1538] A BRILLIANT COMPANY]

Her brothers were there too--the dull and morose Henry, who had succeeded his elder brother as Dauphin two years before, but had never recovered from the effects of his long captivity in Spain; and the more lively but weak and vicious Charles of Angoulême, now Duke of Orleans, whom Eleanor was so anxious to see married to the Duchess of Milan. With them was the Dauphin's Italian wife, Catherine de' Medici, whose wit and grace atoned in her father-in-law's eyes for her lack of beauty, although her husband's heart was given to Diane de Poitiers, and a childless marriage made her unpopular in the eyes of the nation. But a galaxy of fair ladies surrounded the King and Queen. Chief among them was Madame d'Étampes, whose dazzling charms had captivated the fickle King, and who now reigned supreme both in Court and Council. Of the youthful ladies whose charms had aroused King Henry's interest, only Mademoiselle de Vendôme was here. The fair Louise had not yet recovered from her illness, and the Duchess of Guise was nursing her at Joinville. But both her father, Claude of Guise, the Governor of Burgundy, and his brother, the Cardinal of Lorraine, were present, and held a high place in the King's favour. Claude's elder brother, the Duke of Lorraine, had lately been to meet the Emperor at Aigues-Mortes and plead his claims to Guelders, but on his return he fell ill with a severe attack of gout, and was unable to obey the King's summons. In his stead he sent Duchess Renée his wife, another Bourbon Princess, a daughter of Gilbert de Montpensier and sister of the famous Constable. Her daughter Anne remained at home to nurse the Duke, but her eldest son, Francis, came with his mother to Compiègne. This cultured and polished Prince, who bore the King's name, had been brought up at the French Court, and could ride and joust as well as any of his peers; but he was quite thrown into the shade by his cousin, Antoine de Bourbon, Duke of Vendôme, the darling of the people and the idol of all the ladies. A head and shoulders taller than the Dauphin and his brother, Antoine was the cynosure of all eyes at Court festivals. The elegance of his attire, the inimitable grace with which he raised his hat, his wit and gaiety, fascinated every woman, while the gilded youth of the day copied the fashion of his clothes and the precise angle at which he wore the feather in his cap. Frivolous, volatile, and recklessly extravagant, Vendôme wore his heart on his sleeve, and was ready to enter the lists for the sake of any fair lady. He fell desperately in love with the Duchess of Milan at first sight, and devoted himself to her service. As premier Prince of the blood, he rode at Christina's side, and led her out to dance in the eyes of the Court. Together they joined in the hunting-parties that were organized on a vast scale in the Forest of Compiègne, and while all the French were lost in admiration at the fine horsemanship of the royal ladies, Antoine de Bourbon threw himself at the Duchess's feet, and declared himself her slave for life. But whether this gay cavalier was too wild and thoughtless for her taste, or whether her heart was already given to another, Christina paid little heed to this new suitor, and remained cold to his impassioned appeals. "The Duke of Vendôme," wrote Wriothesley to Cromwell, "is a great wooer to the Duchess, but we cannot hear that he receiveth much comfort."[211]

[Sidenote: OCT., 1538] A VISIT TO CHANTILLY]

On the 17th of October the Constable de Montmorency prevailed on the royal party to accompany him to his sumptuous home at Chantilly, nine leagues farther on the road to Paris. This brave soldier and able Minister had grown up in the closest intimacy with the Royal Family, and was habitually addressed as "bon père" by the King's children, but had, unfortunately, excited the hatred of the reigning favourite, the Duchess of Étampes, who called him openly "un grand coquin," and declared that he tried to make himself a second monarch. On the other hand, his constant loyalty to Queen Eleanor gratified Mary of Hungary, who now gladly accepted his invitation to Chantilly.

Anne de Montmorency was as great a patron of art as his royal master, and during the last fifteen years he had transformed his ancestral home into a superb Renaissance palace. The halls were decorated with frescoes by Primaticcio; the gardens were adorned with precious marbles and bronzes, with busts of the Cæsars and statues of Mars and Hercules, with fountains of the finest Urbino and Palissy ware. Portraits by Clouet, priceless manuscripts illuminated by French and Burgundian masters, and enamels by Léonard Limousin, were to be seen in the galleries. But what interested Mary and Christina most of all were the tapestries woven at Brussels from Raphael of Urbino's cartoons, which the Constable had rescued after the sack of Rome, and which he restored some years later to Pope Julius III.[212]

After entertaining his guests magnificently during two days, the Constable accompanied them on a hunting-party in the forest, and finally brought them back to Compiègne on the 19th of October. Here the Queen of Hungary's return was impatiently awaited by the English Ambassadors, who found themselves in a miserable plight. The town was so crowded that they had to be content with the meanest lodgings; the hire of post-horses cost forty pounds, and provisions were so scarce that a partridge or woodcock sold for tenpence, and an orange for more than a groat. The King's Ambassadors at the French Court--Sir Anthony Browne, and Bonner, the Bishop-elect of Hereford--who joined them at Compiègne on the 14th, were in still worse case; for they could get no horses for love or money, and spent six days without receiving a visit from the Court officials. These outraged personages stood at the window, and saw the French Councillors, and even the Constable, go by, without giving them the smallest sign of recognition. At least, Vaughan and Wriothesley were treated with the utmost civility by the Flemish nobles, and their audience was only deferred on account of the Queen's visit to Chantilly. Don Diego was courtesy itself, and, before he started for Spain, wrote a letter to Cromwell, assuring him that Queen Mary was the truest friend and sister his master could have, but that it had been impossible for her to attend to business when her days were spent in festivities and family meetings.[213] At length, on Sunday, the 20th, the Ambassadors were received by the Queen, and introduced Browne and Bonner, as well as Dr. Edward Carne, a learned lawyer whom Henry had sent to assist in drawing up the marriage treaty. Mary informed them that Francis was bent on taking her to the Duke of Vendôme's house at La Fère on the way home, but begged Wriothesley, who was still unwell, to go straight to Brussels. The next day Browne started for England, saying that it was impossible to follow a King who "goes out of all highways," and on the 22nd Wriothesley and his companions set out on their return to Brussels.[214]

[Sidenote: OCT., 1538] MARRIAGE-MAKING]

V.

By the end of October the English Envoys were back at Brussels, rejoicing to be once more in comfortable quarters. Here they found great fear and distrust of France prevailing, and much alarm was expressed lest the Queen should have been induced to give the Duchess of Milan in marriage to a French Prince. This, however, was not the case, and the English Ambassadors were satisfied that beyond feasting and merrymaking nothing had been done. A friendly gentleman, Monsieur de Brederode, told them that there had been some attempt at marriage-making among the women. Queen Eleanor still pressed her sister earnestly to further the marriage of Christina with the Duke of Orleans, as the best way of insuring a lasting peace, and had revived her old dream of marrying her daughter, Maria of Portugal, to the Prince of Spain. But Mary turned a deaf ear to all these proposals, saying that she could not consider them without Charles's approval. At La Fère, in the valley of the Oise, Francis entertained his guests at a splendid banquet, after which he presented Mary with a very fine diamond, and Christina with a beautiful jewel, besides lavishing rings, bracelets, brooches, caps, and pretty trinkets from Paris and Milan, Lisbon and Nuremberg, on the ladies of their suite. Here he took leave of his guests, but the Duke of Vendôme insisted on escorting the Queen and her niece as far as Valenciennes.[215]

[Sidenote: NOV., 1538] KING HENRY'S ANGER]

On Monday, the 4th of November, Mary and Christina reached Brussels, and were received with warm demonstrations of affection. Now, "after all these gay and glorious words," the English Ambassadors confidently hoped to see some end to their toil. But they soon realized that their hopes were doomed to disappointment. First the Queen was too tired to receive them; then nothing could be done until the return of the Duke of Aerschot, who was her chief adviser. At length, on the 16th, the first conference took place at the Duke's house. The Captain of the Archers, Christina's old friend De Courrières, conducted the Ambassadors to the room where the Commissioners were awaiting them--Aerschot, Hoogstraaten, Lalaing, and the Chancellor of Brabant, Dr. Schoren, "a very wise father." After a lengthy preamble, setting forth the powers committed to the Regent, the terms of the contract were discussed. The chief points on which Wriothesley insisted were that Henry should be allowed to see his bride, that the payment of her dowry should be assigned to Flanders instead of Milan, and that Christina's title to Denmark should be recognized, although, remarked the Ambassador, "for my little wit I care not if this last condition were scraped out of the book."[216] The Duchess's claim to the throne of Denmark, as Wriothesley realized, was so remote that it seemed hardly worth discussing. The dowry and the question of the Papal dispensation were the two real stumbling-blocks, and he advised Cromwell, if the King was really anxious to secure this desirable wife, not to press the former point, money being so scarce in Spain and the Netherlands that the Emperor would rather leave his niece unwed, than part with so large a sum. At the close of the sitting the Duke of Aerschot begged Wriothesley to stay to dinner, and gave him the chief place at table and pre-eminence in all things. The fare was abundant; four courses of ten dishes were served in silver, with "covers of a marvellous clean and honourable sort," and carvers and waiters stood around, and attended as diligently to the Ambassador's wants as if he were a Prince. Later in the evening the Duke's brother-in-law, the Marquis of Berghen, who was always well disposed to the English, came to supper, and chatted pleasantly for some time, but shocked Wriothesley by asking him if it were true that all religion was extinct in England, that Mass was abolished, and that the bones of saints were publicly burned. Cromwell's Commissioner, who had himself plundered the shrines of St. Swithun at Winchester and of St. Thomas at Canterbury, could hardly deny this latter charge, although he declared stoutly that only such money-making devices and tricks of the friars as the Rood of Boxley and the tomb of Becket had been unmasked. But, in spite of the outward civility with which the Ambassador was treated, he realized that all good Catholics in Flanders looked on him with horror and disgust.

[Sidenote: JAN., 1539] MARY'S APPEAL]

All through the summer abbeys and shrines had been going down fast. "Dagon is everywhere falling," wrote a Kentish fanatic, and, as Castillon said, by the end of the year hardly a single abbey was left standing. The recent trend of political events had served to excite the King's worst passions, and when the French Ambassador went to see him early in November, he found him in a towering rage. The French had treated his Ambassadors abominably; the Emperor and King were plotting together to take the Duchess of Milan away from him and give her to Monsieur de Vendôme, which, "if it be done, would finish the picture."[217] Late on this same evening, Lord Exeter, a grandson of Edward IV. and head of the noble house of Courtenay, and his cousin, Lord Montague, the son of Lady Salisbury and brother of Cardinal Pole, were thrown into the Tower on the charge of high-treason. All that the most prolonged cross-examination of their servants and friends could bring out to prove their guilt, was that in my Lord of Exeter's garden at Horsley Place, in Surrey, Sir Edward Nevill had been heard singing merry songs against the knaves that ruled about the King, and, clenching his fist, had cried: "I trust to give them a buffet and see honest men reign in England one day." But the King had long ago told the French Ambassador that he was determined to exterminate the White Rose, and, as Castillon remarked, no pretext was too flimsy to bring men to the block. On the 9th of December, Exeter, Montague, and Nevill, all died on the scaffold, and Castillon wrote to King Francis: "No one knows who will be the next to go." Terror reigned throughout the land, and no one of noble birth was safe.[218] Mary of Hungary might well shudder at the thought of giving her niece to such a man. But every day her position became more difficult. Soon after her return from Compiègne she wrote to Charles, urgently begging for instructions as to how she was to proceed with the English Ambassadors. If the King persists in treating of the Duchess's marriage, is she to consent or to refuse altogether? And if so, on what pretext? Is she to discuss the question of the Papal dispensation, which Henry will never consent to receive from the Pope, but without which the Emperor cannot possibly allow the union.[219] In reply to this letter, Charles wrote from Toledo, on the 5th of December, telling her to temporize with the English, and to consult her Council on the best method of procedure.[220]

A carefully-worded paper, in Mary's own handwriting, setting forth the results of the deliberation with the Council in clear and concise language, was forwarded to the Emperor early in January:

"If the King of England would seriously mend his ways and
proceed to conclude the marriage in earnest, not merely to sow
dissension between His Majesty and the King of France, this
would no doubt be the most honourable alliance for the Duchess
and the most advantageous for the Low Countries; but there is
no evidence of this--rather the reverse, as your Ambassador
in France tells us, from what he hears of the conversations
held by King Henry with the French Envoy in London. The Queen
considers this point to be entirely settled, and it remains
only to know Your Majesty's wishes. Are we to dissemble with
the English as we have done till now, which, however, is very
difficult, or are we to break off negotiations altogether? This
can best be done by putting forward quite reasonable terms, but
which are not agreeable to the King. The Queen begs His Majesty
to tell her exactly what she is to do, remembering that the
King of England, when he cannot ally himself with the Emperor
or in France, may seek an alliance with Cleves, and will be
further alienated from religion, and may do much harm by
putting himself at the head of the German Princes--all of which
she prays Your Majesty to consider."[221]

But no reply to this appeal came for many weeks. In vain Mary implored Charles to put an end to this interminable procrastination, and relieve her from the necessity of dissembling with the English Ambassadors, who never left her in peace.

"Once more, Monseigneur," she wrote at the end of January, "I
implore you tell me if I am to allow these conferences to drag
on, for it is impossible to do this any longer without the most
shameless dissimulation."[222]

Still no answer came from Spain, and the solemn farce was prolonged. During the next two months frequent meetings between the Commissioners were held at Brussels, and the Queen herself was often present. "Indeed," wrote Wriothesley, "she is one and principal in it, and how unmeet we be to match with her ourselves do well acknowledge."[223] But little progress was made, although Henry, in his anxiety for the marriage, offered to give the Duchess as large a dowry as any Queen of England had ever enjoyed. On St. Thomas's Day he informed the French Ambassador in the gallery at Whitehall that his marriage was almost concluded.

"All the same," wrote Castillon to the Constable, "I know that
he would gladly marry Madame de Guise had he the chance. If you
think the King and Emperor would enjoy the sport of seeing him
thus _virolin-virolant_, I can easily get it up, provided you
show his Ambassador a little civility, and make the Cardinal
and Monsieur de Guise caress him a little."[224]

By Bernard van Orley (Cardon Collection)

_To face p. 188_]

[Sidenote: JAN., 1539] FAIR WORDS]

But two days after this interview Henry addressed a pathetic appeal to the Regent on his behalf, saying that "old age was fast creeping on, and time was slipping and flying marvellously away." Already the whole year had been wasted in vain parleyings, and, since neither money nor prayers could redeem this precious time, he could wait the Emperor's pleasure no longer, but must seek another bride. If this appeal produced no effect, he told Wriothesley to take leave of the Duchess, and declare to her the great affection which the King bore her, and how earnestly he had desired to make her his wife, but, since this was plainly impossible, he must "beg her not to marvel if he joined with another."[225] When this letter reached Brussels, Mary and Christina were absent on a hunting expedition, but on New Year's Eve they returned. The Queen received Wriothesley the next morning, and, after listening patiently to the long discourse in which he delivered his master's message, said that she was still awaiting the Emperor's final instructions, remarking that perhaps the King hardly realized the distance between Spain and Flanders. There was nothing for it but to await the coming of the courier from Spain. But even Wriothesley began to realize that, "for all this gentle entertainment and fair words and feastings," the deputies meant to effect nothing.

Like Hutton, the Ambassador felt the spell of Christina's charms, and certain expressions which her servants Benedetto and Ferrari had dropped, led him to suppose that the Duchess was favourably inclined towards his master. But he was convinced that attempts had been made to poison her mind against the King, and to prefer the suit of William of Cleves or of Francis of Lorraine, who was also said to be seeking her hand.

"I know," he wrote to Cromwell, "that some of these folks
labour to avert the Duchess's mind from the King's Majesty,
and to rest herself either upon Lorraine or Cleves; but as
far as I can learn she is wiser than they, and will in no
wise hearken to them, offering rather to live a widow than to
fall from the likelihood of being Queen, and to light so low
as from a mistress to become an underling, as she must if she
marry either of them, their fathers and mothers being yet both
alive. What for the virtue that I think I see in her, the good
nature that every man must note her to be of, as well as her
good inclination to the King's Majesty, I have privily wished
myself sometimes that the King might take her with nothing, as
she hath somewhat, rather than His Highness should, by these
cankered tongues, be tromped and deceived of his good purpose,
and so want such a wife as I think she would be to His Grace.
For I shall ever pray God to send His Majesty such a mate,
humble, loving, and of such sort as may be for His Grace's
quiet and content, with the increase of the offspring of his
most noble person."[226]

VI.

At length the eagerly-expected courier reached Brussels, but, as usual, the Queen and Duchess were away hunting, and it was only on the 1st of February that the Ambassadors obtained their desired audience. Mary received them in her bedroom between seven and eight in the morning, and told them that the Emperor had decided to await the arrival of the Count Palatine, who with his wife, the Duchess's elder sister, was shortly expected at Toledo, in order that he might discuss the subject fully with them; but, since she knew Henry to be impatient for an answer, she had despatched a trusty messenger, Cornelius Scepperus, to Spain to beg her brother for an immediate decision.[227]

[Sidenote: FEB., 1539] AN AWKWARD QUESTION]

Wriothesley now ventured on a bold step. As the Queen rose to leave the room, he begged, in order to satisfy his own peace of mind, to be allowed to ask her one question, hoping that she would give him a frank answer. At these words Mary blushed deeply, conscious of the double part that she was playing, and bade him speak, assuring him that she would take whatever he said in good part. "Madame," returned Wriothesley, "I beseech Your Grace to tell me plainly how you find the Duchess herself affected towards this marriage with the King my master." If, as was commonly reported, the Duchess had really said that she minded not to fix her heart that way, all his efforts were but lost labour. And he made bold to ask this question because he knew that of late "divers malicious tongues, servants of the Bishop of Rome, had dared to speak lewdly in hugger-mugger of the King's Majesty." The question was an awkward one, but Mary proved equal to the occasion. She thanked the Ambassador for his frankness, and replied with some warmth that she was quite sure her niece had never spoken such words, and that, if evil men spoke lewdly of the King, she would know how to deal with them. "Touching my niece's affection," she added, "I dare say unto you, that if the Emperor and your master the King agree upon this marriage, she will be at the Emperor's command."

Wriothesley could only express his gratitude for this gracious answer, even if it were not so plain as he could have wished. Seeing that nothing else would satisfy him, the Queen referred him to the Duchess herself, and at two o'clock the same afternoon the Ambassador was conducted to Christina's lodgings. He found her standing under a canopy in a hall hung with black velvet and damask, with five or six ladies near her, and a dozen gentlemen and pages at the other end of the room. Christina received him with a graceful salute, bade him heartily welcome, and asked the purpose of his errand. Wriothesley proceeded to explain the object of his visit at great length, saying that he was quite sure that a lady of her gravity and discretion would never allow such unseemly words to pass her lips; yet, since untrue and wicked reports might have reached her ears and cooled her inclination towards the King, he felt it would be his bounden duty, were this true, to inform His Majesty, in order that he might withdraw his suit without further waste of time and dishonour.

Christina listened to this long harangue without moving a muscle. When the Ambassador had ended, she desired him to put on his cap, saying it was a cold day, and that she regretted not to have noticed that he was uncovered before. Wriothesley replied that this was his duty, and that he hoped often to have the honour of talking with her bareheaded in the future. Without paying any heed to this last remark, Christina replied in the following words:

"Monsieur l'Ambassadeur, I do heartily thank you for your good opinion of me, wherein I can assure you, you have not been deceived. I thank God He hath given me a better stay of myself, than to be of so light a sort as, by all likelihood, some men would note me. And I assure you that neither these words that you have spoken, nor any like to them, have passed at any time from my mouth, and so I pray you report for me."

[Sidenote: FEB., 1539] CHRISTINA'S ANSWER]

But grateful as Wriothesley expressed himself for this frank answer, he was not yet satisfied. "It is an evil wind, as we say in England, that bloweth no man good," and at least the Duchess would see by this, how little faith was to be placed in idle tales. "There are those," he said mysteriously, "who play on both hands; they tell Your Excellency many things, and us somewhat." But would she go farther, and tell him if he might assure the King his master of her own good inclination towards the marriage? At these words Christina blushed exceedingly, and said with some hesitation: "As for my inclination, what should I say? You know I am at the Emperor's commandment." And when the Ambassador pressed her to be a little plainer, she smiled and repeated: "You know I am the Emperor's poor servant, and must follow his pleasure!"

"Marry!" exclaimed Wriothesley; "why, then I may hope to be one of the first Englishmen to be acquainted with my new mistress. Oh, madame, how happy shall you be if you are matched with my master--the most gentle gentleman that liveth, his nature so benign and pleasant that I think no man hath heard many angry words pass his mouth. As God shall help me, if he were no King, instead of one of the most puissant Princes of Christendom, I think, if you saw him, you would say that for his virtues, gentleness, wisdom, experience, goodliness of person, and all other gifts and qualities, he were worthy to be made a King. I know Your Grace to be of goodly parentage, and to have many great Princesses in your family, but if God send this to a good conclusion, you shall be of all the rest the most happy!"

This fulsome panegyric was too much for Christina's gravity. She listened for some time, like one that was tickled, then smiled, and almost burst out laughing, but restrained her merriment with much difficulty, and, quickly recovering herself, said gravely that she knew His Majesty was a good and noble Prince. "Yes, madame," replied the Ambassador, with enthusiasm, "and you shall know this better hereafter. And for my part, I would be content, if only I may live to see the day of your coronation, to say with Simeon, "Nunc dimittis servum tuum, Domine." And he dwelt with fervour on the wish of the English to have her for their Queen, and on the admiration and love which the fame of her beauty and goodness had excited in the King. Christina bowed her thanks, saying that she was much bounden to His Majesty for his good opinion, and then, calling her Grand Master, bade him escort the Ambassador home.

"Your Majesty," wrote Wriothesley to the King that evening,
"shall easily judge from this of what inclination the women
be, and especially the Duchess, whose honest countenance, with
the few words that she wisely spoke, make me to think there
can be no doubt in her. A blind man should judge no colours,
but surely, Sir, after my poor understanding and the little
experience that I have, she is marvellous wise, very gentle,
and as shamefaced as ever I saw so witty a woman. I think her
wisdom is no less than the Queen's, which, in my poor opinion,
is notable for a woman, and I am deceived if she prove not a
good wife. And somewhat the better I like her for that I have
been informed that, of all the whole stock of them, her mother
was of the best opinion in religion, and showed it so far that
both the Emperor and all the pack of them were sore grieved
with her, and seemed in the end to hold her in contempt. I
would hope no less of the daughter, if she might be so happy as
to nestle in England. Very pure, fair of colour she is not, but
a marvellous good brownish face she hath, with fair red lips
and ruddy cheeks. And unless I be deceived in my judgment, she
was never so well painted but her living visage doth much excel
her picture."[228]

[Sidenote: FEB., 1539] WORTHY TO BE A QUEEN]

Two things, Wriothesley told Cromwell, in a letter which he wrote to him the next day, were plain: the Queen would be very loth to let them go with nothing settled, and the Duchess was well inclined, considering that nothing had as yet been said to her on the King's behalf. And he suggested that he might be allowed to show her a portrait of Henry, the sight of which, he felt sure, would make her die a maid rather than marry anyone else. "The woman is certainly worthy to be a Queen," he adds, "and in my judgment is worth more than all the friendship and alliances in the world."[229]

Unfortunately, these letters, which the writer hoped would give the King so much pleasure, found Henry in a furious temper. In January, 1539, Pope Paul III. issued the long-delayed Bull of excommunication, and called on the Emperor and the French King to declare war on the heretic monarch, and forbid all intercourse between their subjects and the misguided English. Cardinal Pole, whose kinsmen Henry had beheaded, and whose own life had been attempted by his emissaries, was sent to Spain to induce Charles to take up arms against "this abominable tyrant and cruel persecutor of the Church of God."[230] At the same moment a treaty was signed between Charles and Francis at Toledo, by which the two monarchs pledged themselves to conclude no agreements with Henry excepting by mutual consent.[231]

Henry now became seriously alarmed. He complained bitterly to Castillon of the way in which he was reviled in France, not only by the vulgar, but by the Cardinal of Paris and members of the Council. And he sent Cromwell to Chapuys with an imperative summons to come to Court without delay. The Imperial Ambassador obeyed, and came to Whitehall on the Feast of the Three Kings. Henry was on his way to Mass, but he stopped to greet Chapuys, and complained once more of the Queen of Hungary's interminable delays and of the scandalous treatment of his Ambassadors. Chapuys made the best excuses which came into his mind, and assured the King that Mary was only awaiting the Emperor's instructions as to the Papal dispensation, and that he would hear from Spain as soon as the Palatine had reached Toledo. To this Henry vouchsafed no answer, but walked straight on, to the door of the chapel.

During Mass Cromwell entered into conversation with Chapuys, and told him that the Pope had thrown off the hypocrite's mask, and was doing his best to kindle a flame in Italy. Before the Ambassador could reply he changed the subject, and said he saw clearly that the Emperor intended to marry his niece to Cleves or Lorraine. Chapuys laughed, and remarked that the Duchess could hardly be given to both Princes, but added in all seriousness that his master knew the difference between the King of England and these suitors. After dinner Henry seemed in a better temper, but told Chapuys in confidential tones that he was growing old, and that his subjects pressed him to hasten his marriage, and that these vexatious delays were all due to the French, who boasted that the Emperor could do nothing without their consent.

[Sidenote: FEB., 1539] A COLD FROST]

"He seemed in great trouble," reported Chapuys, "and it is
plain, as everyone about him tells me, that he is very much
in love with the Duchess of Milan. He told one of his most
intimate friends the other day that he would gladly take her
without a penny.... And just now the French Ambassador asked
me if it were true that he had sent her a diamond worth 16,000
ducats."[232]

At the same time Chapuys heard that Henry was negotiating with the German Princes, and offering his daughter Mary to the young Duke of Cleves, in order to prevent him from marrying the Duchess. "He is so much in love," wrote Castillon, "that for one gracious word from her I believe he would go to war to recover Denmark."[233]

The same week Henry wrote to Wyatt, complaining bitterly of the treatment which he had received from his imperial brother, as being wholly unworthy of a Prince who professed to be his zealous friend. "After so hot a summer we saw never so cold a winter; after all these professions of love and friendship, in the end nothing but a cold frost." He ended by declaring he would no longer be kept "hanging in the balance," and must have an immediate answer, even if it were a flat denial.[234] At length even Charles could procrastinate no longer, and on the 15th of February he told Wyatt that it was impossible for the marriage to take place without the Pope's dispensation, as the King's dispensation would never satisfy the Duchess herself, or any of her relations, and might cause endless inconvenience if children were born of the union. "All the stay," wrote Cromwell to Wriothesley, "is upon the dispensation, to which they object now, but whereof they never spake before."[235]

Even before the courier from Spain arrived, Henry's face was so black that Castillon wrote home begging to be recalled, and declaring that this King was the most cruel and dangerous man in the world. He was in such a rage that he had neither reason nor understanding left, and once he found out that Francis could do nothing for him, Castillon was convinced that his own life would not be worth a straw. A few days later the Ambassador left London, and rejoiced to find himself safely back in France.[236]

VII.

[Sidenote: FEB., 1539] A GAY CARNIVAL]

While London was full of alarms, Wriothesley and his colleagues were spending a gay Shrovetide at Brussels, all unconscious of the clouds that were darkening the horizon. During the last few weeks nobles and courtiers had vied with each other in paying them attentions. Visitors of the highest rank honoured their humble lodgings. Madame de Berghen, Aerschot's lively sister--"a dame of stomach that hath a jolly tongue"--dined with them. The Queen herself was expected to pay them a visit, and great preparations in the way of plate and furniture were made for her reception. Count Büren, a very great man in Holland, was particularly friendly, and impressed Wriothesley so much by his honesty and loyalty that he gave him the best horse in his stables. Another day he entertained the Captain of Gravelines, who railed against the abominations of Rome to his heart's content, and told him it would be the Pope's fault if the King's marriage were not concluded. Carnival week brought a round of festivities. On Monday, the 17th of February, the Ambassadors were invited to meet the Queen at supper at the Duke of Aerschot's house, and were received at half-past five by the Duchess and her sister-in-law, Madame de Berghen. The Duchess sent for her young daughter and her two sons--boys of ten and twelve--and presently they were joined by Monsieur de Vély, the new French Ambassador. Wriothesley expressed great pleasure at meeting him, saying that, since their masters were good friends, they ought not to be strangers, and received a cordial reply. The rest of the company looked on with some surprise at these friendly fashions, a rumour being abroad that the French King was about to attack England and force Henry to submit to the Pope. Then a flourish of trumpets, sackbuts, and fifes, was heard at the gates, and the guests rose as the Queen and Duchess entered the hall. At supper the French Ambassador sat on the Queen's right, and Wriothesley on her left, while Christina was between him and Vaughan. Madame d'Egmont sat next to Dr. Carne, and the Prince of Orange was on the Duchess of Aerschot's right hand. Mary made herself very agreeable to both her neighbours, and when, after supper, her chapel choir sang roundelays and merry drinking-songs, she asked Wriothesley if he were fond of music, and invited him to sup with her on the morrow and hear her minstrels. The Ambassador confessed that he was very fond of music, and often had some at his poor home to cheer his dull spirits. "Well, it is an honest pastime," said the Queen, "and maketh good digestion, for it driveth thoughts away." Here Wriothesley ventured to remark that he would feel merrier if he had not wasted so much time here, and asked if there was still no news from Spain. "None," replied the Queen; and Wriothesley observed that reports reached him from Germany that the Emperor was merely trying to gain time, and meant to do the Bishop of Rome's bidding. "Jesus!" exclaimed the Queen, "I dare say the Emperor never meant such a thing;" upon which Wriothesley hastened to say that he felt sure the Emperor was too wise and honourable a Prince to deceive the King, but now that he had made friends with his old enemy, he hoped he would not make a new enemy of his old friend. After supper the Duke and several ladies came in, wearing masks and rich costumes, and threw dice with the Queen and her niece for some fine diamonds, which the Princesses won. Then the Prince of Orange led out Christina to dance, and the other youthful guests followed suit, while Wriothesley sat at the Queen's side on the daïs and watched the princely pair.

[Sidenote: FEB., 1539] AN UNPLEASANT SURPRISE]

The next evening (Shrove Tuesday) Wriothesley and his colleagues dined at the palace, and this time the English Ambassador sat in the post of honour, on the Queen's right, with the Duchess on his left. Mary was in high spirits, toasted her guests and drank with each of them in turn. After supper Wriothesley approached Christina, and ventured to tell her that she would be happy if her best friends did not put hindrances in her way, and begged her not to lend ear to malicious reports of his master. The Duchess shook her head, saying she would listen to no calumnies, and always hold the King to be a noble Prince. But he felt sure that she was afraid of the Queen, and told her he hoped to converse more freely with her another time. Never had he seen her look so beautiful as she did that night; never did he wish more ardently to see her his master's bride. "For indeed it were pity," he wrote home, "if she were bestowed on a husband she did not like, only to serve others."

There was one Prince at table for whom, it was easy to see, Christina had no dislike. This was René of Orange, who had an opportunity of distinguishing himself in his lady's eyes that evening. The Queen led the way into the great hall, where first Aerschot and three other nobles challenged all comers to fight, and then the Prince of Orange and Floris d'Egmont took their places at the barriers, and broke lances and received prizes for their valour, while the Queen's band of lutes, viols, and rebecks, played the finest music that Wriothesley had ever heard. When the jousting was ended, Mary led her guests to the royal gallery, where another banquet was served, and there was much lively discourse, and more talking than eating. So that gay Carnival came to a close, and with it the last hope of winning the fair Duchess's hand.[237]

An unpleasant surprise was in store for Wriothesley the next morning. Certain disquieting rumours having reached Brussels, Vaughan went to Antwerp on Ash Wednesday, and found great consternation among the English merchants. A proclamation had been issued forbidding any ships to leave the port, and several English vessels laden with merchandise had been detained. The wildest rumours were current on the Exchange. It was commonly said that the Emperor, with the Kings of France and Scotland, had declared war on King Henry, and that a large Dutch and Spanish fleet was about to sail for England. Already in Brussels gallants and pikemen were taking bets on the issue of the war, and Wriothesley wrote to Cromwell that he and his colleagues "might peradventure broil on a faggot." He was unable to obtain an audience until Friday, when the Queen told him that, by the Emperor's orders, she was recalling Chapuys to conduct the marriage negotiations. This unexpected intimation, coming as it did after the startling news from Antwerp, disconcerted him considerably. He sent an express to London, and received orders to take his departure at once. Castillon was already on his way to France, but Henry quite refused to let Chapuys go until Wriothesley and Vaughan had left Brussels. A long wrangle between the two Courts followed. The Ambassadors were detained on both sides. The Spanish and Dutch ships in English harbours were stopped, all ports were closed, and active preparations were made for war along the shores of the Channel.

"After fair weather," wrote Cromwell to Wriothesley, "there is
succeeded a weather very cloudy. Good words, good countenance,
be turned, we perceive, to a wonderful strangeness. But
let that pass. They can do us no harm but to their own
detriment."[238]

[Sidenote: MARCH, 1539] STRANGE ENTERTAINMENT]

The situation of the Ambassadors was by no means pleasant. A marked change was visible in the behaviour of the Court. They were "treated as very strangers" by those nobles who had been their best friends. No one called at their house or came to dine with them. The Duchess's servants, who used to go to and fro constantly, now dared not come except at dusk--"in the owl-flight"--and would not allow Wriothesley to send them home by torchlight. Wherever they went, the English heard their King slandered, and met with cold looks and scornful words. Worse than all, they were forced to pay excise duties--"eighteen pence on every barrel of beer above the price asked by the brewer"--an indignity to which no Ambassador before had ever been exposed. "I write in haste and live in misery," wrote Wriothesley to Cromwell on the 7th of March.[239]

The Emperor, however, was still friendly. His heart was set on a Crusade against the Turk, and he had no wish to embark on war with England. Pole met with a cold reception at Toledo, and, finding Charles averse to executing the Pope's sentence, retired to his friend Sadoleto's house at Carpentras. This was a relief to Henry, and he bade Wyatt thank his imperial brother, but could not forbear pointing out that these friendly words agreed ill with the doings of his officers in the Low Countries. A despatch addressed to Wyatt on the 10th of March contains a long recital of the extraordinary treatment which his Ambassadors at Brussels had met with:

"Since Lent began, as for a penance, their entertainment
hath been marvellous strange--yea, and stranger than we will
rehearse: strangeness in having audience with long delay,
strangeness in answer and fashion. Also they have been
constrained to pay Excise, which no Ambassador of England paid
in any man's remembrance. They have complained to the Queen,
but nevertheless must pay or lack drink.... These rumours
and hints of war, the arrest of our ships, this strangeness
shown to our Ministers, this navy and army in readiness, the
recall of Chapuys, ran abroad this realm and everywhere. We
do not write to you the rumours half so spiteful, and the
entertainment half so strange, as it hath been. I think never
such a thing was heard, and especially after a treaty of
marriage such a banquet!"[240]

Henry concluded this letter by saying that, since the Emperor insisted on the need of Papal dispensation, there could be no further question of any marriage between him and the Duchess, and he would be now at liberty to seek another wife. On the same day he wrote to Carne, who had been secretly corresponding with the Duke of Cleves, telling him to open negotiations for a marriage with that Prince's sister, the Lady Anne.[241]

Twelve days after this despatch was sent to Spain Wriothesley left Brussels. At Calais he met Chapuys, who had just crossed the Channel, and Mary's almoner, the Dean of Cambray, who was being sent to take the Ambassador's place, and was awaiting a fair wind to embark for Dover. All three Ambassadors dined in a friendly manner with Lord Lisle, the Deputy Governor of Calais, and continued their respective journeys without hindrance. But the much-discussed marriage treaty was at an end. The long-drawn comedy had reached its last act. "All hope of the Duchess," wrote Wriothesley to Cromwell, "is utterly past."

[Sidenote: AUG., 1539] A WELSHMAN'S OPINION]

The rupture was loudly lamented by the English merchants in Antwerp, and keen disappointment was felt throughout England, where the marriage had always been popular. Among many scattered notices of the feeling which prevailed on the subject, the following incident is of especial interest, because of the sidelight which it throws on Christina's personal reluctance to the marriage.

On a summer evening in August, 1539, five months after Wriothesley left Brussels, a married priest named George Constantyne, of Llan Hawaden in South Wales, rode from Chepstow to Abergavenny with John Barlow, Dean of Westbury. The priest had got into trouble in Wolsey's time, for buying copies of Tyndale's New Testament, and was forced to fly the country and practise as a physician for several years in the Netherlands. Now he had returned to England, and was on his way to his old home in Wales. He walked from Bristol to Westbury, where he supped with Dean Barlow, a brother of his friend the Bishop of St. Davids, who made him heartily welcome, and invited him to be his travelling companion the next day to Pembrokeshire. As the two ecclesiastics rode through the green valleys on the way to Abergavenny, the Dean asked Constantyne if he could tell him why the King's marriage had been so long delayed. The priest replied that he, for his part, was very sorry the King should still be without a wife, when he might by this time have been the father of fair children. As the Dean knew, both the Duchess of Milan and she of Cleves were spoken of, and now the little doctor, Nicholas Wotton, had been sent to Cleves with Mr. Beard, of the Privy Chamber, and the King's painter; so there was good hope of a marriage being concluded with the Duke of Cleves, who favoured God's word, and was a mighty Prince now, holding Guelderland against the Emperor's will. But why, asked the Dean, was the marriage with the Duchess of Milan broken off? Constantyne, who was familiar with all the gossip of the Regent's Court, replied that the Duchess quite refused to marry the King, unless he would accept the Bishop of Rome's dispensation, and give pledges that her life would be safe and her honour respected. "Why pledges?" asked the Dean innocently. "Marry!" returned Constantyne, "she sayeth that, since the King's Majesty was in so little space rid of three Queens, she dare not trust his Council, even if she dare trust His Majesty. For in Flanders the nobles suspect that her great-aunt, Queen Catherine, was poisoned, that Anne Boleyn was innocent of the crimes for which she was put to death, and that the third wife, Queen Jane, was lost for lack of attention in childbed." Such, at least, were the mutterings which he heard at Court before Whitsuntide. The Dean remarked that he was afraid the affair of Milan must be dashed, as Dr. Petre, who was to have gone to fetch the royal bride from Calais, was at the Court of St. James's last Sunday; upon which Constantyne gave it as his opinion that there could be no amity between the King and the Emperor, whose god was the Pope.

So the two men talked as they rode over the Welsh hills on the pleasant summer evening. But the poor priest had good reason to regret that he had ever taken this ride; for his false friend the Dean reported him as a Sacramentary to the Lord Privy Seal, and a few days after he reached Llan Hawaden he was arrested and thrown into the Tower, where he spent several months in prison as a penalty for his freedom of speech.[242]

FOOTNOTES:

[164] Papiers d'État, 1178, Archives du Royaume, Bruxelles.

[165] Calendar of State Papers, xii. 2, 367.

[166] State Papers, Henry VIII., Record Office, viii. 2.

[167] J. Kaulek, "Correspondance Politique de M. de Castillon," 4, 5; Calendar of State Papers, xii. 2, 394.

[168] Calendar of State Papers, xii. 2, 392; G. Pimodan, "La Mère des Guises," 72.

[169] Kaulek, 12, 15; Calendar of State Papers, xiii. 1, 54.

[170] State Papers, Record Office, viii. 5.

[171] Anne Boleyn's cousin Mary Skelton, who had been a great favourite with the King (see Calendar of State Papers, xiii. 1, 24).

[172] State Papers, Record Office, viii. 7.

[173] Calendar of State Papers, xiii. 1, 42.

[174] Calendar of Spanish State Papers, v. 2, 572.

[175] Calendar of Spanish State Papers, v. 2, 429.

[176] Kaulek, 24; Calendar of State Papers, xiii. 1, 82.

[177] Calendar of State Papers, xiii. 1, 93.

[178] State Papers, Record Office, viii. 16.

[179] _Ibid._, viii. 30.

[180] British Museum, Additional Manuscripts, 5,498, f. 2; Calendar of State Papers, xiii. 1, 130.

[181] State Papers, Record Office, viii. 17-19.