The cover image was created by the transcriber and is placed in the public domain.

THE HISTORY
OF
MARY I., QUEEN OF ENGLAND

THE PRINCESS MARY.
From the original portrait in the Gallery of the University, Oxford.

THE HISTORY OF
MARY I.
QUEEN OF ENGLAND

AS FOUND IN THE
PUBLIC RECORDS, DESPATCHES OF AMBASSADORS
IN ORIGINAL PRIVATE LETTERS, AND OTHER
CONTEMPORARY DOCUMENTS

BY
J. M. STONE

LONDON
SANDS & CO.
12 BURLEIGH STREET, STRAND, W.C.
1901

PREFACE.

At a time when prejudiced historical verdicts are being largely revised, and when it is universally admitted that history must be studied on broader and more discriminating lines than heretofore, the restatement of the case for our first Queen Regnant scarcely needs an apology.

Two books, one The Privy Purse Expenses of the Princess Mary, with an Introductory Memoir by Sir Frederick Madden, some time Keeper of the Manuscripts in the British Museum, and the other, The Life of Jane Dormer, Duchess of Feria, edited by the Rev. Joseph Stevenson, from the original manuscript in the possession of Lord Dormer, first revealed Queen Mary to me as an attractive and sympathetic personality. Subsequent diligent examination of documents relating to her life and reign, scattered about the various archives of Europe, has not belied that impression, but has further shown that more interest attaches to her dire struggle with the difficulties which beset her than has generally been supposed.

This material has proved to be extremely rich and abundant, especially as regards the archives of Venice, Austria, Belgium and England. The valuable papers formerly at Brussels have, it is true, disappeared, but fortunately we are provided with transcripts of them in the Record Office. And where the despatches of ambassadors, those of Giustinian, Chapuys, Renard, Michiel, de Noailles, Surian and others, drop the thread of the story, our own chroniclers, Stowe, Holinshed, Machyn, Wriothesley, Foxe, etc., take it up, so that an almost continuous narrative is formed, reaching from Mary’s earliest childhood to her death.

I have endeavoured, where possible, to give the story in the words of each individual ambassador or annalist, in order to preserve, if it might be, the atmosphere of the times, in a manner unattainable by our modern phraseology. In most instances, I have been careful to reproduce even the eccentricities of the spelling in the English documents quoted, but in others, where I have given somewhat lengthy extracts from our chroniclers, the spelling has been modernised to avoid tedium.

It has not come within the scope of the present work to deal exhaustively with Mary’s correspondence, and many of her most interesting letters have been unavoidably omitted, preference being given to those which relate to the more crucial points in her history.

One word may not be out of place here, as to the now fully recognised necessity of bringing historical imagination to bear upon any period under consideration; for unless we throw ourselves into the spirit, the views, the interests of that period, we shall utterly fail to form a correct notion of its merits and its short-comings. The thoughts and opinions, the virtues and vices of the sixteenth century are not those of our own day, and the only way in which we can form a just estimate of them is by divesting ourselves of every preconceived notion, and by judging each individual case according to the standard which then prevailed. Whether, bearing this necessity in mind, and with the colours at my disposal, I have succeeded in painting a picture vivid enough to supersede the old traditional, but generally spurious, portraits of Queen Mary, I must leave to the kind judgment of my readers.

J. M. S.

April, 1901.

CONTENTS.

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

CHAPTER I.

BIRTH AND CHILDHOOD—EARLY MARRIAGE PROJECTS.

1516-1525.

It was characteristic of the times in which the Princess Mary was born, that she should be ushered into the world with a pageant. England had but lately been roused from the lethargy to which the penuriousness of Henry VII. had condemned it, and good-fellowship, display and revelry were the order of the day.

Music and masquerades delighted the young King, and were a fitting background to his florid beauty, brilliant talents and sanguine temperament. The country, in its recoil from the asceticism of parsimony, no less than from the asceticism of mediæval piety, was well content to amuse itself, and Christmas revels, April jollities and May-day masques were supplemented by tilting at the ring, feasting and tournaments, that made the whole year round a “playing holiday”.

But the desire of the nation was an heir to the greatness, wealth and glory which the English people rejoiced to see centred in their eighth Henry. Three times had their hope been doomed to disappointment, when on the 19th February[1] 1516, Katharine of Arragon gave birth to a daughter. The universal satisfaction was scarcely lessened by the fact that the infant was not the longed-for prince, and in an ecstasy of joy, the Londoners lighted bonfires, roasted oxen whole, and caused the wine to flow merrily in the streets.

Two days later, the Princess, nearly the whole of whose life was to be so great a contrast to its rosy dawn, was baptised with much circumstance and pomp at Greenwich. From the palace gates to the church of the Friars Observants, the well-gravelled path was strewn with rushes, and hung with arras. At the great doors of the church a pavilion covered with tapestry had been erected, and here the child waited with her sponsors to receive the preliminary rites before being carried into the sacred building. Then the procession was formed, and swept through the grand entrance, only used on the most solemn occasions.

The church was resplendent with cloth of gold, precious stones, pearl embroideries, and tapestries from the famous looms of Europe. First walked a goodly array of the nobility, preceding the silver font, brought the day before from Canterbury,[2] and carried by the Earl of Devon, supported by Lord Herbert of Cherbury. The taper was held by the Earl of Surrey, the salt by the Marquis, the chrism by the Marchioness of Dorset. The Lord Chamberlain followed, with the Lord Steward on his right, and under a rich canopy, held by four knights, was the royal infant, in the arms of the Countess of Surrey. On each side of her walked the Dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk. The sponsors at the font were the Cardinal of York (Wolsey), the Lady Katharine, sister of the Prince of Castile (afterwards Charles V.) and the Duchess of Norfolk. Immediately after the baptism followed the bishoping or rite of confirmation, at which the Countess of Salisbury, the celebrated Margaret Plantagenet, daughter of the Duke of Clarence, was sponsor. By her descent from Edward IV. she was a near kinswoman of Mary’s, and was appointed her governess or principal guardian, next to the king and queen.

The Te Deum was sung by the King’s chaplain, after which Mary’s style was proclaimed by the heralds:—

“God give good life and long unto the right high, right noble and right excellent Princess Mary, Princess of England, and daughter of our sovereign lord the King,” etc.

The Venetian ambassador, Sebastian Giustinian, to whose letter we owe the account of the royal christening, makes no mention of the King as having taken part in the procession, but it is probable that Henry witnessed the ceremony from the royal closet, which connected the church of the friars with the palace. The chronicler also omits to say by whom the sacraments of baptism and confirmation were administered, a curious oversight, as the Archbishops of Armagh and Dublin, as well as the Bishops of Durham and Chester, and the Cardinal-Archbishop of York, were present. [3] When Giustinian congratulated Henry on the birth of his daughter, in the name of the Council of Ten, adding, however, that the Signory would have been better pleased if the child had been a son, the King replied:—

“We are both young. If it is a daughter this time, by the grace of God, the sons will follow.”[4]

Giustinian’s despatches are pæans in Henry’s honour. Who so renowned as the King of England! He is not only “very expert in arms, most excellent in bodily endowments” of every description, but he is also adorned with mental accomplishments far beyond the average. And the admiration of the envoy is not merely general, but detailed. Sagudino, his secretary, writing from the court at Richmond, where he spent a week, together with Giustinian, says that in the evening, they enjoyed hearing the King play and sing, and seeing him dance, and run at the ring by day, “in all which exercises he acquitted himself divinely”. He spoke English, French and Latin, understood Italian, and played almost every instrument. It was the prettiest thing in the world to see him play tennis, “his fair skin glowing through a shirt of the finest texture”. On hearing that Francis I., his great rival, wore a beard, although it was not the English fashion, Henry allowed his own to grow, and as it was of a reddish colour, he is described as having “gotten himself a beard that looks like gold”.[5]

“Is the King of France as tall as I am?” he asked of Pasqualigo, the Venetian envoy to the French Court, who had special instructions to bring about a friendship between Henry and Francis, who was the sworn ally of the Republic of Venice.

Pasqualigo answered diplomatically, that there was little difference in height between them, although Henry was in reality much taller than Francis.

“Is he stout?”

The envoy replied that he was not.

“What sort of legs has he?”

“Spare,” answered Pasqualigo guardedly; upon which Henry opened the front of his doublet, clapped his hand on his thigh, and exclaimed: “Look here, I have a good calf to my leg”.[6]

Pasqualigo was to return to France, and before his departure, Henry took part in a tournament, in which he is declared to have looked “like St. George on horseback”. Sagudino adds slyly, “the king exerted himself to the utmost, that Pasqualigo might make a good report of his prowess to Francis,” and he “never saw so beautiful a sight”.[7]

Henry’s love of learning, his knowledge of theology, his piety, are still more praised. Were it not for the little saving-clause concerning his jealousy of the King of France, and one or two youthful indiscretions, one might ask in vain for a sign of human frailty. He heard three Masses a day, when he hunted, and on other days, often four or five. He followed Vespers and Compline every day in the queen’s closet. Of the regularity with which he despatched business we have still proofs, in the papers belonging to this period in the Record Office.

But corruptio optimi pessima, and Wolsey is mainly responsible for his degeneration, by exercising an almost boundless influence over the King, to flatter his already inordinate vanity. The Venetians were meanwhile so much dazzled by Henry’s brilliant qualities, that they had little admiration left for the Queen. Sagudino dismisses her with the disparaging remark, “she is rather ugly than otherwise,” and the ambassador himself says, “she is not handsome, but has a very beautiful complexion, is very religious, and as virtuous as words can express”.[8] Gerard de Pleine, in a letter to Margaret of Savoy, describes her as of a lively and gracious disposition, quite the opposite of her sister, Joan of Arragon.[9] Her music and dancing were admired, and it was said that she read, wrote and composed in English much better and more correctly than half the ladies of her court. To this Erasmus adds his testimony and says, “Katharine is not only a miracle of learning, but is not less pious than learned”.[10] She was a tertiary of St. Francis, and wore a religious habit under her ordinary dress. Lord Herbert of Cherbury remarks on her virtue and sweet disposition.[11] But to appreciate qualities such as the Queen’s needed more than the rather superficial discernment of Giustinian and his companions, who were so much struck with the pomp and glitter of the English court, that its real worth almost escaped their notice. Erasmus declared that in its serious aspects, it was “more like a museum than a court”.

During the first years of their marriage, the King and Queen had lived together in almost perfect happiness. Katharine was Henry’s chosen adviser, the confidante of his state secrets, and the principal negotiatrix between England and Spain.[12] We have Henry’s own words to prove that the union was not a mere political one. In a letter written in the highest spirits to Ferdinand of Arragon, the King declared that his love for his wife was such that, if he were still free, he would choose her again in preference to all others.[13] Of Katharine’s wifely devotion to Henry there has never been any doubt. She adored him, and thought him a paragon of perfection. But the birth of her daughter threw Katharine henceforth into the shade, and Wolsey, by his consummate state-craft, rapidly gained an ascendency over the King.

For years, Mary was the pivot on which the personal advantages of both King and Chancellor turned, now in one direction, now in another. Her title of Princess of England was equivalent to that of heiress apparent, and thus from the moment of her birth, she became an important piece on the chess-board of European politics. By effecting a brilliant matrimonial alliance for her, Wolsey conceived that he would enhance his master’s prestige among his contemporary sovereigns, and pave the way for his own aggrandisement, always the primum mobile of his schemes.

Before she was a year old, Mary was provided with a household, and Margaret, Lady Bryan,[14] a woman of sound sense and ability, was appointed “lady maistress” over it. Her nurse, Katharine Pole, received £26 in March 1517, being half a year’s salary. Her priest, chaplain or clerk of the closet, Sir Henry Rowte, had a stipend of sixpence a day. Alys Baker, a gentlewoman of her household, received £10 a year, and to Avis Wood, her laundress, was paid the sum of thirty-three shillings and four pence, as wages for six months.[15]

While still in her cradle, the Princess figured in a part she was often called upon to play afterwards. Henry’s sister, the Queen Dowager of France, being now married to Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk, gave birth to a daughter, and Katharine and Mary were the child’s godmothers. Dignity followed upon dignity, and before she was two years old Mary was an important factor in the treaty by which Henry VIII. ceded Tournay to the French for the sum of 600,000 crowns. The peace between France and England had been brought about partly through Wolsey’s increasing influence, partly (the Venetians flattered themselves mainly) through the tact and diplomacy of Giustinian, sent for that purpose back to England, and when a Dauphin was expected in 1518, Wolsey eagerly entered into negotiations with the French King, for the purpose of contracting a union between Henry’s only daughter and the hoped-for heir to the throne of France. Giustinian was, however, not so much in Wolsey’s confidence in this matter as might have been expected from the nature of his embassy to England, and some time after the birth of the Dauphin he wrote: “The French secretary has left, and is to be replaced by two great personages, to conclude, as it is said, a marriage between the Princess Mary and the Dauphin. The Cardinal will not admit this, but I am convinced of the truth of it.”

The secret soon oozed out, with the result that Mary was treated with even greater respect and ceremony than before, being regarded not only as heiress apparent to the throne of England, but as future Queen of France also. The Venetian envoys, in reporting to the Doge an interview which they had had with Henry and Wolsey, on the 28th February 1518, conclude their account of the audience in these words:—

“After this, the Princess Mary, who is two years old, was brought in. The Cardinal and Sebastiano kissed her hand pro more, the greatest marks of honour being paid to her universally, more than to the queen herself. The moment she cast her eyes on the Reverend Dionysius Memo, who was there at a little distance, she began calling out in English: ‘Priest, priest,’ and he was obliged to go and play for her, after which the King, with the Princess in his arms, came to me and said: ‘Per Deum iste est honestissimus vir et unus carissimus; nullus unquam servivit mihi fidelius et melius illo; scribatis Domino vestro quod habeat ipsum commendatum’.”[16]

Dionysius Memo was a musician, sent to Henry by the Doge as his chaplain and choir-master. Henry’s love of music, which Mary inherited, insured him a cordial welcome, and Memo took an important part at every state function. On the occasion of a banquet given by the king to the Austrian ambassador, to celebrate a league sworn between Henry and his nephew Charles in 1517, there were amusements of every kind, but especially instrumental music conducted by Memo, “which lasted for four consecutive hours to the so great admiration of all the audience, and with such marks of delight from his Majesty, as to defy exaggeration”. Five days later, a joust with costly decorations took place, followed by another banquet, at which no person was seated under the rank of a marquis. Giustinian is dazzled with the splendour of the repast, and the profusion of plate, the sideboard being covered with magnificent vessels, said to be all of gold. This was one of a series of revels and festivities, “but the chief dish” is always Memo’s music.[17]

On the 3rd October 1518, a general peace was proclaimed at St. Paul’s. Mass was said by Wolsey with unusual pomp, and the terms of the treaty between Henry and Francis were read before the high altar.

The King afterwards dined with the Bishop of London, going in the afternoon to Durham House in the Strand. “From thence,” says the Venetian ambassador, “the Cardinal of York was followed by the entire company to his own dwelling, where we sat down to a most sumptuous supper, the like of which, I fancy, was never given, either 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, where that monarch caused divine honours to be paid him. After supper, a mummery consisting of twelve male and female maskers made an appearance, in the richest and most gorgeous array possible, all being dressed alike. When they had gone through certain original dances, they took off their masks. The two leaders of the dance were the King and the Queen Dowager of France. All the others were lords and ladies of the court. They seated themselves at separate tables, and were served with countless dishes of confections and other delicacies. When they had gratified their palates they regaled their eyes and hands, large bowls filled with ducats and dice being placed on the table for such as liked to gamble. Then, the supper tables being removed, dancing began and lasted till after midnight.”

On the 5th, the Princess Mary was formally betrothed to the Dauphin, in the Queen’s great chamber at Greenwich. Henry stood in front of the throne, having the Queen on his right, the Dowager Queen of France, his sister, on his left hand. In front of her mother stood the baby Princess, dressed in cloth of gold, a cap of black velvet covered with precious stones on her flaxen head. Facing the royal group were the two legates, Wolsey and Campeggio. Tunstal, Bishop of London, made an eloquent oration in praise of matrimony, “which being ended,” says Giustinian, “the most illustrious Princess was taken in arms, and the magnificos, the French ambassadors, having asked the consent of the King and Queen, on behalf of each of the contracting parties, and they having assented, the right reverend legate, the Cardinal of York, placed on her finger a small ring, juxta digitum puellæ, but in which a large diamond was set, supposed to be a present from his right reverend lordship above mentioned; and my lord admiral passed it over the second joint. The bride was then blessed by the two right reverend legates, after a long exordium from the Cardinal of York, every possible ceremony being observed.” They then went to the royal chapel within the palace, where the King and Bonivet, the French ambassador, in the name of Francis I., exchanged oaths before the high altar, to observe faithfully the articles of the treaty. The proceedings ended with Mass, Wolsey being the officiating prelate. “The choir,” wrote the admiring Venetian, “was decorated with cloth of gold, and all the court in such rich array, the like of which I never saw, either here or elsewhere.”

On the 16th, the King at the head of his council promised publicly to fulfil the marriage contract when the Dauphin should have attained the age of fourteen, his daughter being sixteen years old, and he desired, if he failed in his promises that the Cardinal would excommunicate him, and pass sentence of interdict on his kingdom. Mary was to have a dowry of 100,000 marks, and Francis bound himself, under pain of the censures of the Church, to contribute one as large as any Queen of France ever had.[18]

At the French court, the betrothal was celebrated with no less elaborate ritual, in which cloth of gold and silver, jewels, music, flowers, feasting, compliments and promises played an important part. No one wore any material less costly than silk. All the English envoys had chains of gold about their necks, were attired in the most sumptuous fashion, were praised, banqueted and amused for a whole week, while the King showered gifts upon them. Never was marriage contract celebrated with greater solemnity. The expressions of friendship exchanged by the two Kings were profuse. Henry sent Francis the most flattering messages; Francis doffed his cap, and kissed Henry’s letters before opening them.

For a few months Henry seems to have considered himself bound by this contract, or at least, to have seen no reason for breaking it. He told Francis that if he should die without heirs male, he intended to leave the regency of England to him, as it would belong to the Princess Mary, who was to marry his son.[19]

One day, he showed Giustinian with much pride, his young daughter in her nurse’s arms. The Venetian knelt and kissed her hand, “for that,” said he, “is alone kissed by any duke or noble of the land, let his degree be what it may; nor does any one see her without doffing his bonnet, and making obeisance to her”. Henry then said: “Domine orator, per Deum immortalem ista puella nunquam plorat,” upon which Giustinian, with ready diplomacy, replied: “Sacred Majesty, the reason is that her destiny does not move her to tears; she will one day be Queen of France,” words which, he declared, “pleased the king vastly”.[20]

Nevertheless, as early as September 1519, steps were taken for adopting another line of policy altogether, and for transferring Mary’s hand to the Emperor, Charles V.

The news of the French alliance had greatly disturbed the Spanish Ministry, for the Emperor’s political complications were many. The King of France had become, through Charles’s successful candidature for the empire, his implacable enemy. War was unavoidable, for it behoved the emperor to secure his overgrown possessions, by every means in his power.

Even alone, Francis constituted a formidable danger, on account of his pretensions in Italy, but when allied to England, which, thanks to Wolsey’s foreign policy, was fast emerging from the condition of a third-rate power, he might threaten the dismemberment of the empire. Moreover, money would be urgently needed to carry on the war, when Francis should begin hostilities, and although Charles was already pledged to marry the Princess Charlotte of France, he was also negotiating a union with the daughter of the King of Portugal, by which he would receive 80,000 crowns as her dowry. For the sake of his empty coffers, he was prepared to sell himself to the highest bidder. He demanded a million ducats with the Princess Mary. Wolsey offered 80,000, with the understanding that the sums already advanced by Henry should be deducted therefrom, thus reducing the dowry to 50,000. Charles was careful not to commit himself. In a pecuniary sense, the Portuguese Princess was clearly the more desirable, but there remained the necessity of breaking the Anglo-French alliance. A see-saw policy was, therefore, his only alternative.

Meanwhile, Mary’s betrothal to the Dauphin was supposed to stand good, and Charles continued his negotiation with Portugal. Francis was well-informed by spies of all that went on, and Henry knew that he knew, but all parties thought well to dissemble. When rumour became too loud to be disregarded, and the fact of the correspondence between Henry and Charles leaked out, Henry affected indignation, and warmly protested his loyalty to the French treaty. Francis replied, with more politeness than truth, that the King of England need not have troubled himself to disprove the calumny, for he himself gave it no credence.[21]

In England, public opinion was in favour of the more brilliant marriage. The nation had never looked with cordiality on the prospect of a French union. Mary was the future sovereign of England; if she married the Dauphin, a French monarch would one day be seated on the English throne, an unpleasant humiliation for those who considered France the rightful appanage of English kings.

Katharine also naturally inclined to the Spanish match. Although she had thrown herself heart and soul into the habits, tastes and interests of her adopted country, she retained a deep love for all that was Spanish. She never forgot that she was the daughter of Ferdinand and Isabella, and foreign ambassadors wishing to gain her favour would address her in the Spanish tongue. Nothing was nearer her heart than a marriage between her daughter and her nephew. In England, all were eager for the union, but Charles held back, delaying his promised visit to his relatives almost beyond the limits of courtesy. Henry was not a little embarrassed, for while the imperial machinery was being slowly put into motion, Francis, anxious to outwit his rival, had himself proposed a meeting for the ratification of the marriage treaty. Henry and Wolsey, on the horns of a dilemma, sought in vain to postpone the interview indefinitely. Francis was bent on it, and various dates having been objected to, in the hope that the project would be abandoned, the 31st of May was at last fixed for their meeting. Whether or no this action on the part of the French King had any effect on the Emperor’s policy, Charles at once made up his mind, and landed at Dover on the 26th. He was received by the Cardinal of York, and Henry, who had awaited his arrival at Canterbury, rode over to meet him. The next day being Whitsunday, he escorted him to the city of St. Thomas, “the more to solempne the Feast of Pentecost; but specially to see the Queen of England, his aunt, was the intent of the emperor”.[22]

What passed between these three royal personages and Wolsey did not transpire. A further loan may have been effected, but the public records are silent on the real object of the visit, and do not even state, whether the bridegroom in posse saw his proposed bride. On the 31st, he re-embarked at Sandwich, and the King and Queen, with Wolsey and a brilliant suite, crossed over to Calais. On landing, they immediately proceeded to Guisnes, and the same day, Francis arrived at Ardres, about six miles distant.[23]

Descriptions are not wanting of the empty splendours of Field of the Cloth of Gold. The world had never before witnessed such a scene, such fantastic devices, such jewels, such cordiality, such fraternal affection between two Kings. Had Henry and Francis been brothers, meeting after a long and painful separation, their joy at being reunited could not have been more expansive. They met in a summer palace of glass, hastily prepared for the occasion, but covered from roof to floor with white fluted satin, and relieved by rich hangings of cloth of gold, while pearls and precious stones of immense value were strewn with oriental prodigality in every direction. Exquisitely designed fountains ran wine all day, and feats of arms were followed by costly banquets, at which all the grace and beauty of the two courts were represented.

Religion and chivalry were still supposed to go hand in hand, and the magnificence of the King’s temporary palace was only equalled by the magnificence of his temporary chapel, where gorgeous functions took place, and sermons were preached, in pompous language, on the blessings of peace and amity between princes. The whole scene was a dazzling epitome of the Renaissance. The two Kings parted seemingly on the best of terms; Henry and Wolsey proceeded to Gravelines to meet the Emperor, and the three went together to Calais, to plot against the host, at whose hands Henry had just received such lavish hospitality.

Keen as was Francis’s eye to penetrate diplomatic mysteries, he does not seem on this occasion to have fathomed the depths of Henry’s capacity for intrigue, for he hovered about the frontier, vainly hoping to be invited to join the conference at Calais. Henry had solemnly declared to him that he entertained no purpose of espousing Mary to the Emperor, and had sworn eternal friendship with him as his ally and future son-in-law,[24] although the principal object of his pending conference with Charles, was to discuss the means of transferring his daughter’s hand from the Dauphin to the greatest enemy of France.

Meanwhile, the Princess Mary, the innocent object of these plots, was still happily unconscious of her value in the eyes of politicians. She remained at Richmond Palace during the absence of the court, and Henry was kept well informed of her health and occupations. The Duke of Norfolk wrote to him on the 13th June, that he and the other members of the Council were, “on Saturday last,” with the Princess, “who, lauded be Almighty God, is right merry, and in prosperous health and state, daily exercising herself in virtuous pastimes”.[25] “On St. Peter’s Even,” as the lords of the Council informed him, “came the three gentlemen of France, of whose arrival they had notice from the Cardinal, and on Saturday, after dinner, as the tide was commodious, they being well accompanied by the lord Barnes, lord Darcy, and another, visited the Princess, at Richmond. There were with her,” they continue, “divers lords spiritual and temporal, and in the Presence Chamber, besides the lady governess and her other gentlewomen, the Duchess of Norfolk,” etc. They go on to say that she “welcomed the French gentlemen with most goodly countenance, proper communication, and pleasant pastime in playing on the virginals; and they greatly marvelled and rejoiced at the same, her young and tender age considered”.[26]

When we consider that this “young and tender age” represented but four short years, we cannot but feel sorry for the small lady, obliged to entertain visitors with “proper communication,” instead of amusing herself with her “rosemary bushes with gold spangles,” her “gold pomanders,” and other sixteenth century toys, which were continually being brought to her as presents. The Princess’s Household Book for 1520 informs us that she regaled those “gentlemen from France” with “four gallons of Ypocras, with cherries, old apples, wafers, and strawberries, the cost of which amounted to thirty-five shillings and threepence”.

Tokens were constantly exchanged between the Dauphin and his fiancée. In January 1521, Sir Peter Carew was sent over to Paris, to condole with Francis I. on an accident he had met with, and to inquire after his health. He took with him some rubies as presents, and the French defrayed his expenses, and prepared “some scents and smocks” for him to take back with him, as presents to the Princess.[27] According to the existing arrangements, the Dauphin was to be sent over to England to be brought up in this country when he was a few years old; but long before the time specified, Mary had been solemnly affianced to the Emperor, although her marriage-contract with the Dauphin was never annulled.

Until Mary was twelve years old, her health and education were the subjects of Henry’s constant solicitude, and apart from the value he set upon her as an important item in his political schemes, he appears to have regarded her with affection, as long as there was room in his character for natural feeling, or any sentiment unconnected with his dominant passions. The care of her health necessitated her frequent removal from one royal residence to another, as a precaution against infectious disease, rendered necessary by the conditions of life in England during the first half of the sixteenth century. The well-known letter written by Erasmus to Wolsey’s physician, testifies to the perpetual recurrence of the plague in this country, which was to be attributed, the writer considered, mainly to the construction of the houses, full indeed of windows, but as these were not made to open, light was admitted into the dwellings, but no air. He complains of the chalk floors and of the rushes laid thereon, but so carelessly renewed, that the bottom layer often remained for twenty years, harbouring all sorts of offal.

Writing in 1527, Erasmus says that thirty years before, if he entered a room uninhabited for some months previously, he caught a fever. It would have been well if some of the money lavished on the adornment of the walls had been expended on the floors, especially as the habits of the sixteenth century left much to be desired in point of cleanliness. Some attention was, however, given to this matter in the royal palaces, but it was of a kind that involved the removal of the court, whenever a room was to be thoroughly overhauled; the result of disturbing rushes upon which dogs had been fed and kennelled for months, and every kind of refuse allowed to rot, may be better imagined than described. There is little cause for surprise, therefore, if we hear constantly of fevers, agues and of the sweating sickness, more deadly than the plague.

On one occasion, news was brought to the court that “one of my lady princess’s servants was sick of a hot ague” at Enfield, whereupon Henry ordered that Mary should be taken at once to Byssham Abbey, remain there one day, and arrive at the More the day following. Even when the servant recovered, Mary was not allowed to return to Enfield. In August 1520, we find that “my lady princess will be sent to Richmond again, on account of the reports of the sickness at Woodstock”.

The excellent Lady Bryan having ceased in 1521, to occupy the position of governess of Mary’s household, Secretary Pace wrote to Wolsey that as the King intended leaving Windsor shortly, and as he would have no convenient lodging for the Princess, he desired Wolsey to think of some lady fit to give attendance on her. The King thought that the old Lady Oxford would be suitable, if she could be persuaded, if not, Lady Calthorpe, and her husband to be chamberlain to the Princess. Accordingly, Lady Oxford was invited to occupy the vacant post.

Wolsey describes her as “right discreet, and of a good age, and near at hand,” and she could at least “be tried for a season, if she did not decline on the score of health”. Apparently she did decline, for instead of Lady Oxford, we find Sir Philip Calthorpe and his wife appointed to attend on the Princess, and govern her house, with a salary of £40 a year.[28]

On the 29th July 1521, a commission was appointed to conclude a treaty for Mary’s marriage with the Emperor for which a dispensation was to be obtained from the Pope on account of their near relationship. This treaty was concluded, signed and sealed on the 24th November of the same year, on which day also, Francis I., writing to his ambassador in London, remarks that the contract between the Princess of England and the Dauphin is to remain in its entirety,[29] a curious satire on the good faith of princes. Moreover, while Francis thus proclaimed the peace and amity supposed to exist between himself and Henry, Charles was stipulating with Henry for a descent to be made by the English on the shores of France, not later than March, 1522. A fleet was to be provided by both parties, each contributing 3,000 men. It would be possible to regard Francis with some pity, as a miserable dupe, were it not for his own propensity for the same amount of false swearing. By February, he was in possession of the facts, but for some reason or other, war was not declared till June. On the 6th May, Contarini, the Venetian envoy, was able to inform the Signory of Mary’s approaching betrothal to the Emperor, adding that Henry was about to send a gentleman to France, to repudiate the French treaty.

On the 27th, Charles landed at Dover, and was received on the sands by Wolsey, attended by 300 nobles, knights and gentlemen. Leaning on the Cardinal’s arm, the Emperor proceeded to Dover Castle, where he remained for two days, being joined by Henry. On the road to Canterbury, and thence to Greenwich, they were greeted by the people with every demonstration of joy, the English looking upon Charles as the monarch of the world, and feeling flattered by his condescension in wedding a daughter of England.[30] At the great gates of Greenwich Palace stood the Queen and her daughter Mary, now six years old, to welcome him. The Emperor dropped on one knee, and asked Katharine’s blessing, “having,” says the chronicler Hall, “great joy to see the queen, his aunt, and in especiall his young cousin germain, the lady Mary”.

All who saw Mary at this time spoke favourably of her appearance. “She promises,” said Martin de Salinas, “to become a handsome lady, although it is difficult to form an idea of her beauty, as she is still so small.” Others describe her as a fair child, with a profusion of flaxen ringlets, and the admiration of all.

The usual revels were held in honour of the Emperor’s visit. The court removed to London, and Charles was magnificently lodged at Blackfriars. But he seems to have regarded the prodigality displayed with Hapsburg seriousness, if not with absolute disapproval. He was urgently in need of money, and would doubtless have been better pleased with a fresh loan, than with all that was done in his honour. At all events, the sombre stateliness of Windsor was more in accordance with his taste and humour, and he was altogether in his native element when the terms of the treaty were at last discussed. These included: (1) a settlement of the differences between the Emperor and Francis; (2) a marriage contract between the Emperor and the Princess Mary; (3) a league between the Emperor and Henry for making war upon France, and for recovering the territory which the English had lost in that country. A clause was inserted, to the effect that Mary should be sent to Spain to finish her education, when she was twelve years old.[31] The treaty of Windsor was signed on the 19th June, but was not then published, and “peace with France was dissembled”. Other things were dissembled also; and, although Mary was brought to Windsor, to take leave of her imperial cousin as his future bride, Wolsey soon discovered that no reliance could be placed on the Emperor’s words or promises, and that, as far as Charles was concerned, the whole negotiation and the treaty of Windsor itself were nothing but a political fiction, in order to alarm Francis. But indeed, in a competition of duplicity between Charles, Henry, Francis and Wolsey, it would be rash to speculate as to which of them would have borne the palm. Wolsey played a particularly odious part, inasmuch as he not only convinced Francis that he was anxious for the French alliance, but he was moreover in receipt of a yearly pension from him. Meanwhile, the determination of the Princess Isabella of Portugal to marry Charles served to further complicate matters. She took for her motto the trenchant device, Aut Cæsar aut nihil,[32] and the grandees of Spain threw their weight into the scale with her, urging the Emperor to marry her, with whom he would receive a million of gold, and not the English Princess, “about whom he thought less than of the first named”.[33] Still Charles hesitated, or affected to hesitate, and writing to Wolsey from Valladolid, the 10th February 1523, he begs to have news of the King: “et de ma mieulx aimee fiancee la Princesse, future Imperatrix”.[34] But much as Henry held to the fulfilment of the contract, he had no longer any real hope of it, and began to look for other possible alliances. It was thought in France that the Dauphin would soon be crowned, and that then he would marry the English princess,[35] but Gonzolles, the French ambassador in Scotland, wrote to the Duke of Albany: “The King of England has promised to give his daughter in marriage to the King of Scots, with a large pension, and proclaim him prince of his kingdom if they can agree”.

Henry would nevertheless have much preferred giving her to the Emperor, if by any means Charles could be persuaded to keep to his engagements, and he sent Tunstal, Bishop of London, and Sir Richard Wingfield, as extraordinary ambassadors to Spain, with orders to promote the marriage in every possible way.

In April 1525, Mary sent Charles an emerald with a curious message, showing that she was still taught to consider herself his promised bride. “Her Grace,” so ran the letter which accompanied the gift, “hath devised this token, for a better knowledge to be had, when God shall send them grace to be together, whether his Majesty do keep himself as continent and chaste as with God’s grace she woll, whereby ye may say, his Majesty may see that her assured love towards the same hath already such operation in her, that it is also confirmed by jealousy, being one of the greatest signs and tokens of hearty love and cordial affection.”[36]

After the victory of Pavia, Charles, no longer in fear of Francis, declared openly that he owed nothing to the help of his allies, and released himself from his pledges to Henry by the very extravagance of his demands. He sent a commission to Wolsey requiring that Mary should be sent to Spain at once, with a dowry of 400,000 ducats, and 200,000 crowns besides, to defray the expenses of the war with France. Nothing was said about the sums he had borrowed from Henry, while the whole transaction was in direct violation of the terms of the treaty of Windsor. The Cardinal replied that the Princess was still too young to be given up, and that the Spaniards had no hostages to offer that could be sufficient security for her, whom the English people looked upon as the treasure of the kingdom. The envoys whom the Emperor sent in return, in paying their respects to the King and Queen, were permitted to address “a short peroration in Latin to the Princess, to which she replied in the same tongue, with as much assurance and facility as if she were twelve years old,” and she did and said, they added, “many other gracious things on the occasion, of which they purpose giving an account at a future time”.[37] But the moment for fair speeches and compliments had gone by. Charles demanded that Henry should either agree to his conditions, or release him from his oath, “for all Spain” compelled him “to contract a marriage with Portugal”. Henry told him roundly that he would give him his daughter when she was of proper age, but no increase of dowry.[38] “If,” continued the King of England, “he should seek a maistress for hyr, to frame hyr after the manner of Spayne, and of whom she might take example of virtue, he shulde not find in all Christendome a more mete than she now hath, that is the Quene’s grace, her mother, who is comen of the house of Spayne, and who for the affection she bereth the Emperour, will norishe and bring hyr up as maybe hereafter to his most contentacion.”[39]

At the same time Tunstal and Wingfield represented that, as the Princess was not much more than nine years old, it might greatly endanger her health to be transported into an air so different from that of England. In replying more particularly to the Emperor’s statement, that his subjects wished him to marry the Portuguese Princess, Mary being still of tender age, Henry, seeing that nothing was to be gained by a breach with his nephew-in-law, told him that the Princess his daughter was still young; she was his own treasure and that of his kingdom; she was not of age to be married;[40] that the demands of the Spanish people seemed reasonable, and that desiring always to preserve the Emperor’s friendship, he consented to the Portuguese alliance under three conditions. These were: (1) that peace should be made with France; (2) that the Emperor should pay his debts to Henry; (3) that the treaties of Windsor and London should be annulled.[41]

The treaty of Windsor was rescinded on the 6th July 1525, and on the 22nd was signed the marriage contract between Charles V. and Isabella of Portugal. But the Emperor did not pay his debts, and henceforth no Spaniard coveted the post of ambassador to the English Court. To console Henry for the failure of his schemes, Tunstal assured him that Mary was “a pearl well worth the keeping”.[42]

FOOTNOTES:

[1] According to some accounts the 18th.

[2] The servants of the Prior of Christchurch, Canterbury, received £4 for carrying the font to and from Greenwich on this occasion. Add. MS. 21,481. The King’s Book of Payments, Brit. Mus.

[3] Harl. MS. 3504, f. 232, Brit. Mus.

[4] Gius. Desp., i., 182, Venetian Archives.

[5] MS. in St. Mark’s Library, class vii., No. 1233.

[6] Gius. Desp., i., 90.

[7] Ibid., i., 77.

[8] Gius. Desp., i., 81.

[9] Brewer, Letters and Papers of the Reign of Henry VIII., Cal., i., 5203.

[10] Erasmus to Paul Bombasius (Brewer, Letters and Papers, vol. ii., pt. ii., 4340).

[11] Life of King Henry the Eighth (ed. 1649), p. 7.

[12] Add. MS. 21,404, 8, Brit. Mus.

[13] Egerton MS. 616, 35, Brit. Mus.

[14] She afterwards filled the same position in the household of Henry’s other children, Elizabeth and Edward. See Ellis’s Original Letters, 2nd series, vol. ii., p. 78.

[15] The King’s Household Book, March 1516-17.

[16] “Really, this is a very honest man, and worthy to be loved. I have no better or more faithful servant. Write to your master that I have spoken of him with commendation.” A curious instance of the colloquial Latin then in vogue (Gius. Desp., ii., 157).

[17] Gius. Desp., ii., 95.

[18] Brewer, Calendar of State Papers, vol. ii., pt. ii., 4687.

[19] Sanuto Diaries, vol. xxix., p. 155.

[20] MS. in St. Mark’s Library, class vii., No. 1233.

[21] He is reported to have said that he had “liever have my lady princess, and though the king’s grace had ten children, than the King of Portingale’s daughter, with all the spices her father hath” (Cotton MS. Calig. D. viii., 40, Brit. Mus.).

[22] Hall’s Chronicle, p. 604.

[23] Sir Richard Wingfield had written from Paris that great search was being made there to bring to the meeting the fairest ladies that might be found, and he hoped that the Queen would bring such in her hand “that the visage of England, which hath always had the prize, be not lost” (Brewer, Cal., vol. iii., pt. i., 698).

[24] Rymer, xiii., 719.

[25] Cotton MS. Vesp. F. xiii., 129, Brit. Mus. Ellis’s Letters, 1st series, i., 174.

[26] Cotton MS. Calig. D. vii., 231.

[27] Sanuto Diaries, vol. xxix., p. 558. In February 1520, £40 was given by Henry to a gentleman sent by the French King and Queen with tokens for the Princess (see The King’s Book of Payments).

[28] Brewer, Calendar of State Papers, vol. iii., pt. ii., 1437, 1439, 1533.

[29] Cotton MS. Calig. E. i., art. 11, 46, Brit. Mus.

[30] Brewer, Cal., vol. iii., pt. ii., 2306.

[31] Cotton MS. Galba B. vii., 102, Brit. Mus.

[32] Rawdon Brown, Venetian Calendar, vol. iii., 852 note.

[33] Sanuto Diaries, vol. xxxix., p. 147.

[34] Cotton MS. Vesp. C. ii., 93*, Brit. Mus.

[35] Cotton MS. Calig. D. viii., 302, Brit. Mus.

[36] Westminster, 3rd April 1525, Record Office.

[37] Gayangos, England and Spain, Cal., vol. iii., pt. i., p. 82.

[38] Sanuto Diaries, vol. xl., p. 17.

[39] Cotton MS. Vesp. C. iii., f. 177, Brit. Mus.

[40] Gayangos, Cal., vol. iii., pt. i., pp. 78, 191 et seq. Brewer, Cal., vol. iv., pt. i., p. 662.

[41] Cotton MS. Vesp. C. iii., f. 62, Brit. Mus.

[42] Ibid., f. 135.

CHAPTER II.

PRINCESS OF WALES.

1525-1527.

When Mary was about ten years old, her father, mindful it was said of his Welsh origin, turned his attention towards that principality, thinking wisely by redressing some of its grievances to reduce it to a more strict obedience. It was, therefore, determined by the King in Council, to send “our dearest, best beloved, and only daughter, the Princess, accompanied with an honourable, sad, discreet and expert counsayle, to reside and remain in the Marches of Wales and the parties thereabouts, furnished with sufficient power and authority to hold courts of oyer and determiner, for the better administration of justice”.[43]

Disappointed in his hope of further issue, Henry had, in a more special manner than at her christening, declared his daughter heiress to the Crown, and Princess of Wales, consoling himself with the conviction, that her extreme popularity would be a sufficient counterpoise to the somewhat hazardous novelty of a queen regnant. The news of her departure for the west was communicated to the Venetian Government by Lorenzo Orio in August, 1525:—

“On Saturday, the Princess went to her principality of Wales, with a suitable and honourable escort, and she will reside there until the time of her marriage. She is a rare person, and singularly accomplished, most particularly in music, playing on every instrument, especially on the lute and harpsichord.”[44]

The term borders or marches of Wales was somewhat loosely applied, and “the parties thereabouts” seem to have included the whole of the south-western, and some of the midland counties, for we find Mary during this time not only at Chester and Shrewsbury, but also at Tewkesbury and Gloucester. A great deal of power was put into the hands of her council, with the means of enforcing their decrees, but the details of her short sojourn in the west are very meagre, and we are entirely dependent on a few sidelights, to show the kind of authority that was centred in her person, and the amount of state that was kept. This last was indeed considerable. A communication from her council to Sir Andrew Windsor, Sir John Dauncy and Sir William Skeffington, refers them to the King’s pleasure, “touching such ordnance and artillery as should be delivered for the Princess into the marches of Wales, and for despatching the payments for carriage by land or water. They desire that the two gunners, John Rauffe and Laurence Clayton, and the armourer, William Carter, now being the Princess’s servants, may have livery coats of the Princess’s colours.”[45] What those colours were may be learned from a letter of Wolsey’s to Sir Andrew Windsor, authorising him to deliver to Dr. Buttes, “appointed physician to my lady Princess, a livery of blue and green in damask, for himself, and in blue and green cloth for his two servants; also a cloth livery for the apothecary”. On the margin of a document, in which are inscribed the names of all the ladies and gentlemen who accompanied the Princess, is a memorandum, signed by Wolsey, relating to the quantity of black velvet to be allowed and delivered to each. Those of inferior rank were to have black damask.

Mary’s head-quarters were at Ludlow, but she travelled constantly from place to place, visiting all the more accessible parts of the principality, and the surrounding country. On the 3rd September 1526, she was at Langley, as we learn from a letter addressed to Wolsey from that place:—

“My lady Princess came on Saturday. Surely, Sir, of her age, as goodly a child as ever I have seen, and of as good gesture and countenance. Her Grace was well accompanied with a goodly number of persons of gravity.”[46]

These “persons of gravity” included, besides councillors, chamberlains, clerks, surveyors, etc., the Countess of Salisbury, the Countess of Devon, Lady Katharine Grey, Dr. Wootton, Dean of the Chapel; Mr. John Featherstone, schoolmaster, and many others, amounting in all to 304 persons, of the most honourable sort.

Mary had authority to kill or give deer at her pleasure, in any forest or park within the territory appointed to her, and her warrants were served under pain of the King’s indignation.[47] Careful directions had been given by the King in Council, concerning her own training, health, clothing, food and recreation, for all of which the Countess of Salisbury was primarily responsible. She was “to take open air in gardens, sweet and wholesome places, and walks,” and everything about her was to be “pure, sweet, clean and wholesome,” while “all things noisome and displeasant” were to be “forborne and excluded”. Great attention was to be paid to her food, and to the manner in which it was served, with cheerful society, “comfortable, joyous and merry communication, in all honourable and virtuous maner”. Her council was to meet once a month, at least, and to consult on her health, virtuous education, etc., “taking into communication my lady Governess, and the Princess if expedient”.[48] Mr. Featherstone was to instruct her in Latin, in the place of the Queen, who had hitherto undertaken this branch of her studies. Shortly before going to Wales, Mary had received a letter from her mother, in which, after expressing her trouble at the long absence of the King, and of her daughter, and assuring her that her health is “meetly good” and that she rejoices to hear that Mary’s own health is mended, Katharine goes on to say:—

“As for your writing in Latin, I am glad that ye shall change from me to master Federston, for that shall do you much good to learn by him to write aright. But yet sometimes I would be glad when ye do write to master Federston of your own inditing, when he hath read it, that I may see it, for it shall be a great comfort to me to see you keep your Latin and fair writing and all, and so I pray you to recommend me to my lady of Salisbury.”[49]

Katharine had spared no pains in the education of her daughter, basing it upon a solid foundation of piety, and imparting a taste for learning, which helped to support Mary in the dark days to come. The celebrated Ludovicus Vives had already contributed to her instruction before her departure into Wales, and on her return continued to direct one branch of her studies. In 1524 he had dedicated to the Princess 213 symbols or mottoes, with paraphrases upon each. The first one was called Scopus Vitæ Christus, and the last Mente Deo defixus, “and these,” says a contemporary writer, “the Princess seemed to have in perpetual memory, by the practice of her whole life, for she made Christ the beginning and end of all her actions, from whose goodness all things do proceed, and to whom all things do tend, having a most lively example in her virtuous mother”.[50]

The list of Latin works proposed by Vives, and in which Mary soon began to delight, is startling from the profound character of the subjects chosen. Among these works were the Epistles of St. Jerome, the Dialogues of Plato, “particularly,” observes Sir Frederick Madden, “those of a political turn”;[51] the works of Cicero, Seneca, Plutarch, St. Ambrose, St. Augustine, St. Thomas, and other equally serious books.

That her mind responded to this severely classical and religious training, is evident from the remarks scattered about the correspondence of the more or less distinguished personages who at different times came in contact with her. Her own countrymen were not a little proud of her talents. Lord Morley, in the preface to his book, A New-Year’s Angelical Salutation by Tho. Aquine, which he presented to Mary as a New-Year’s gift, mentions the translation of a prayer by St. Thomas which she had made. “I do remember,” he says, “that skante ye were come to xij. yeres of age, but that ye were so rype in the Laten tongue that rathe doth happen to the women sex, that your grace not only could perfectly rede, wright and construe Laten, but furthermore translate eny harde thing of the Laten in to our Inglysshe tongue, and among all other your most vertuous occupacions, I have seen one prayer translated of your doing of Sayncte Thomas Alquyne, that I do ensuer your grace is so well done, so near to the Laten, that when I loke upon it, as I have one of the exemplars of yt, I have not only mervell at the doinge of it, but further for the well doing, have set yt as well in my boke or bokes, as also in my pore wyfe’s, your humble beadeswoman, and my chyldern, to gyve them occasion to remember to praye for your grace.“[52]

The Princess of Wales had not long to maintain the vice-regal dignity in the west. Fresh schemes were on foot for disposing of her in marriage, and her presence was required at court.

After his disastrous defeat at Pavia, the news of which he communicated to his mother in the famous words, “Tout est perdu fors l’honneur,” Francis I. had been taken captive to Madrid, from whence he only escaped by submitting to the most suicidal conditions, leaving his two eldest sons as hostages in the hands of the Emperor. But having signed the treaty of Madrid as a prisoner, and being therefore no free agent, he was scarcely likely to consider its terms binding. One of its stipulations was that he should marry the Emperor’s sister, Eleanor, Dowager Duchess of Austria, but this he had no intention of doing, provided he could regain possession of his children by any other means.

In the perpetual game of see-saw played by the three principal monarchs of Christendom, with a constant change of partners, it is not surprising to find Francis now looking towards England for a way out of his difficulties. He had contrived to form a league against Charles, consisting of the Pope, the Swiss, the Venetians, and the Florentines; and if England could be persuaded to join it, this league would be strong enough to defy the Emperor, and France might not only regain her lost possessions, but dictate the terms of peace.

But Henry and Wolsey had no particular interest in making things pleasant for Francis, whose overtures met with no eager response. It was not clear to the King or his Chancellor what advantage would be derived by them from an alliance with Francis.

“This king will not spend money to make an enemy of his friend, and gain nothing,” replied the astute Wolsey to the Venetian, Gasparo Spinelli, and he assured him that England would not join the league, unless his most Christian Majesty first undertook to restore Boulogne, and to marry the Princess Mary.[53]

But France had suffered too many humiliating losses willingly to give up so important a place, and later, when Henry sent a special envoy to negotiate a marriage between Mary and Francis, all mention of Boulogne was dropped.

It would seem incredible, but for authentic evidence, that Henry should have seriously entertained the notion of bestowing on a middle-aged profligate such as the King of France, whose actual life would not bear investigation, the young daughter whom he professed to love and cherish, as “the pearl of the world”. Nevertheless, for a time at least, his mind was fixed on this purpose, and Wolsey was never more keenly alive to his own interests than in the fabrication of this delicate piece of diplomacy. Francis was equally in earnest, on account of his impatience to take reprisals on the Emperor, and the Queen mother, Louise of Savoy, told the English ambassadors that her son had long been anxious to marry their Princess, “both for her manifold virtues and other gay qualities, which they assured them were not here unknown”.

The next step was to send ambassadors to England to treat of the marriage. These were the Bishop of Tarbes, afterwards Cardinal Grammont, first president of the Parliament of Toulouse, the Vicomte de Turenne, and La Viste, president of the Parliament of Paris. They were instructed by Francis to go straight to the Princess Mary, visit and salute her in his name, and to express his “sore longing to have her portraiture”. Hereupon, Henry sent Francis his own and Mary’s picture,[54] assuring him that he was much obliged to him for condescending to take his little daughter, who did not deserve such honour.[55]

The Venetians looked upon the marriage as certain, and thought that war would be waged in consequence, in every direction;[56] but the more general opinion in Europe was that Henry would not succeed in a matrimonial alliance with any foreign potentate, but that the English would insist on having a king of their own, and would not suffer a foreigner to sit upon the throne.[57]

“In time of war,” said the Archbishop of Capua to Charles V., “the English made use of their Princess as they did of an owl, as a decoy for alluring the smaller birds.” The Emperor, not understanding the allusion, asked the Archbishop what he meant by “owl,” and when it was explained to him laughed heartily.

Meanwhile, the French envoys saw the Princess, on St. George’s Day (1527). She spoke to them in French and Latin, and was made to display her achievements in writing and on the harpsichord. Spinelli wrote that a solemn betrothal had taken place at Greenwich, when the Bishop of Tarbes had delivered an oration, after which he and the Vicomte de Turenne had dined with the King, the others dining apart. At the end of dinner they went to the Queen’s apartments, where the Princess danced with de Turenne, who considered her very handsome, and admirable by reason of her great and uncommon mental endowments, but so thin, spare and small, as to render it impossible for her to be married for the next three years.[58] A succession of jousts and masks of the most dazzling description followed. Spinelli, in relating the brilliant course of entertainments, says of one in particular:—

“Thereupon there fell to the ground at the extremity of the hall, a painted canvas from an aperture, in which was seen a most verdant cave approached by four steps, each side being guarded by four of the chief gentlemen of the Court, clad in tissue doublets and tall plumes, each of whom carried a torch. Well grouped, within the cave, were eight damsels of such rare beauty, as to be supposed goddesses rather than human beings. They were arrayed in cloth of gold, their hair gathered into a net, with a very richly jewelled garland surmounted by a velvet cap, the hanging sleeves of their surcoats being so long, that they well-nigh touched the ground, and so well and richly wrought as to be no slight ornament to their beauty. They descended gracefully from their seats to the sound of trumpets, the first of them being the Princess, with the Marchioness of Exeter. Her beauty in this array produced such effect on everybody, that all the other marvellous sights previously witnessed were forgotten, and they gave themselves up solely to contemplation of so fair an angel. On her person were so many precious stones, that their splendour and radiance dazzled the sight, in such wise as to make one believe that she was decked with all the gems of the eighth sphere. Dancing thus, they presented themselves to the King, their dance being very delightful by reason of its variety, as they formed certain groups and figures most pleasing to the sight. Their dance being finished, they ranged themselves on one side, and in like order, the eight youths, leaving their torches, came down from the cave, and after performing their dances, each of them took by the hand one of those beautiful nymphs, and having led a courant together, for a while returned to their places. Six masks then entered. To detail their costume would be but to repeat the words ‘cloth of gold,’ ‘cloth of silver,’ etc. They chose such ladies as they pleased for their partners, and commenced various dances, which being ended, the King appeared. The French ambassador, the Marquis of Turrenne (sic), was at his side, and behind him four couples of noblemen all masked, and all wearing black velvet slippers on their feet, this being done lest the King should be distinguished from the others, as from the hurt which he received lately when playing at tennis, he wears a black velvet slipper. They were all clad in tissue doublets, over which was a very long and ample gown of black satin, with hoods of the same material; and on their heads caps of tawney velvet. They then took by the hand an equal number of ladies, dancing with great glee, and at the end of the dance unmasked, whereupon, the Princess with her companions again descended, and came to the King, who in the presence of the French ambassadors, took off her cap, and the net being displaced, a profusion of silver tresses, as beautiful as ever seen on human head, fell over her shoulders, forming a most agreeable sight. The aforesaid ambassadors then took leave of her, and all departing from that beautiful place, returned to the supper hall, where the tables were spread with every kind of confection and choice wines, for all who chose to cheer themselves with them. The sun I believe greatly hastened his course, having perhaps had a hint from Mercury of so rare a sight; so showing himself already on the horizon, warning being thus given of his presence, everybody thought it time to quit the royal chambers, returning to their own with such sleepy eyes, that the daylight could not keep them open.”[59]

Little progress was, however, made with the negotiations. Compliments flowed freely on both sides, but did not advance matters, and Wolsey determined to seek an interview with Francis, bring the affair to a crisis, and settle certain other matters which had lately supervened, to complicate immeasurably the tangled politics of Europe. One of these was the sack of Rome by the imperial army, and the consequent imprisonment of the Pope and the whole College of Cardinals, in the Castle of St. Angelo. Another, which more immediately concerned England, was known as yet but to a chosen few as “the king’s secret matter,” but which was ultimately to inflame the whole of Christendom.

Wolsey was flattered, courted and feared by all the powers. He was at once the most brilliant, the most daring and the least scrupulous diplomat in Europe. His boundless ambition was easily entertained by the notion that the Papal authority might be delegated to himself, during the Pope’s captivity, and that thus by one swing of the pendulum, he might be raised to the highest dignity on earth. This one swing of the pendulum was to be effected by a promise, that if Henry secured his election, he would, as Pope, pass a decree in favour of “the king’s secret matter”.[60]

But before this dream could be realised, Francis must be won over to the scheme of his candidature, and the votes of the French cardinals secured. Francis, bent only on checkmating the Emperor, was fascinated with the idea of marrying the English princess, and of drawing England into the league against Charles; and Wolsey, ever tactful, kept his own plans in the background, until the royal suitor should be satisfied.

The Cardinal of York and the French King were to meet at Amiens, and the moment that Wolsey set foot in France he received from the King a commission, authorising him to pardon and liberate under his own letters patent, such prisoners as he chose, in the towns through which he passed, except those committed for treason, murder, and similar crimes. After their first interview, the Cardinal wrote an account to Henry of all that had passed between them. Francis had spoken of Mary as “the cornerstone of the new covenant,” “and I,” added Wolsey, “being her godfather, loving her entirely, next unto your Highness, and above all other creatures, assured him that I was desirous she should be bestowed upon his person, as in the best and most worthy place in Christendom”.

Francis coveted the honour of possessing the Garter, and his hint to that effect was ingenious, if somewhat broad. Taking hold of the image of St. Michael, which he wore on his neck, he said to Wolsey:—

“Now the King, my brother, and I be thus knit and married in our hearts together, it were well done, it seemeth, that we should be knit par colletz et jambes”.[61]

It was becoming more and more evident that the only hope for France was in a speedy alliance with England. The Bishop of Tarbes, on his return from his embassy to solicit Mary’s hand for his master, contributed his meed of praise, assuring Francis that the Princess was “the pearl of the world,” and “of such beauty and virtue that the King of England esteemed her more than anything on earth”.

“I pray you, repeat unto me none of these matters,” interrupted Francis impatiently. “I know well enow her education, her form, her fashion, her beauty and virtue, and what father and mother she cometh of; expedient and necessary it shall be for me and for my realm that I marry her, and I assure you for the same cause, I have as great a mind to her as ever I had to any woman.”

Nevertheless, the alliance with England was not to be in this wise. The army, consisting of 30,000 men, which Francis had sent into Italy under Lautrec, had suffered a humiliating defeat before Naples, and the loss of a second army at Landriano obliged him to conclude with Charles the disastrous treaty of Cambrai, by which he was forced to pay 2,000,000 of gold crowns in lieu of Burgundy. Four marriages were to ensue. The King of France was to fulfil his promise to the Emperor’s sister; the Dauphin was to marry the Infanta of Portugal; the son of the Duke of Lorraine was affianced to the Princess Madeleine, daughter of the King of France, whose second son, the Duke of Orleans, was betrothed to Mary.

The marriage contract between Mary and the Duke of Orleans, signed and sealed by Francis I., and illustrated with their portraits, was dated 18th August 1527, and is still preserved in the Record Office.[62] This interesting document is beautifully illuminated on vellum, with a gold background and a border composed of Tudor roses, fleurs de lys and cupids. Francis I., representing the god Hymen, in a dress of the period, holds a hand of the bride and of the bridegroom. The arms of England and France are on either side of him. The Princess Mary, a youthful figure in a white dress covered with flowers, and wearing a blue coif with a gold border, stands on the left of Francis; the Duke of Orleans, a young boy in doublet and trunk hose, is on his right.

The peace, thus momentarily secured at the cost of immense sacrifices on the part of France, afforded a brief space in which to prepare for a fresh outbreak of hostilities. Francis and Henry were henceforth allies, and the course of affairs in England tended to cement their bond, and to widen the breach between them and the house of Austria. Henry sent Francis the Garter, and received the order of St. Michael in exchange.[63]

FOOTNOTES:

[43] Harl. MS. 6807, f. 3, Brit. Mus.

[44] Sanuto Diaries, vol. xxxix., p. 356.

[45] Reading Abbey, 18th August 1525, Record Office.

[46] Sampson to Cardinal Wolsey. Cotton MS. Titus B. i., 314, Brit. Mus.

[47] R. Brereton of Chester to W. Brereton, Groom of the King’s Privy Chamber, 25th August 1526, Record Office.

[48] Cotton MS. Vit. C. i., f. 36, Brit. Mus.

[49] Cotton MS. Vesp. F. xiii., f. 72, Brit. Mus. Mary wrote a beautiful, firm, and clear hand, a specimen of which is reproduced at page 192 of this volume.

[50] The Life of Jane Dormer, Duchess of Feria, by Henry Clifford. Transcribed from the ancient MS. in the possession of Lord Dormer by Canon Estcourt, and edited by the Rev. Joseph Stevenson, p. 82.

[51] Privy Purse Expenses of the Princess Mary, Introductory Memoir.

[52] For this prayer and Mary’s translation see Appendix A.

[53] Sanuto Diaries, vol. xliii., p. 55. Spinelli to the Doge, 11th Sept. 1526.

[54] Masters’ MS., f. 113.

[55] Dodieu’s Narrative.

[56] Sanuto Diaries, vol. xliv., p. 97.

[57] This view proved to be the more correct, when, twenty-seven years later, a formidable insurrection was raised to prevent Mary’s marriage with Philip of Spain.

[58] Sanuto Diaries, vol. xlv., pp. 194-198.

[59] Venetian Calendar, vol. iv., 105.

[60] Wolsey to Henry VIII., State Papers, i., 205, 206, 207, 230, 231, 270, R.O.

[61] Brewer, Cal., vol. iv., pt. ii., 3350.

[62] Diplomatic Contracts, box 39, No. 1112, Record Office.

[63] Sanuto Diaries, vol. xlvi., p. 118.

CHAPTER III.

THE BEGINNING OF STRIFE.

1527-1533.

Mary’s whole life was clouded, with the first whisper of the King’s “secret matter”. Until then the Princess had been surrounded with all the charm of greatness, without any of its disadvantages, for she had been so wisely educated, that she remained unspoiled by the adulation of courtiers, or by the enthusiasm with which the nation regarded her. Her delight was in study, in music, in almsgiving, in the bestowal of gifts, and in the society of her parents, both of whom were remarkable for talents above the average.[64] She had been too young to be greatly affected by the various schemes for her disposal in marriage, although she had taken her betrothal to the Emperor seriously; but her trials began when she was old enough to appreciate their meaning, and when she might reasonably have expected to realise some of the seductive prospects held before her eyes from her cradle. There was no element of romance in her character; her mental endowments were essentially of a practical nature, and she lacked almost entirely the gifts necessary to adapt them to a changing world. Nearly all her life long the times were out of joint, and she knew no other way to set them right, but that of uncompromising opposition. But she possessed in an eminent degree the virtues of her limitations; her whole conduct was moulded on examples which she had been taught to reverence as her conscience, and consistent to a fault, she saw little evil in the old order, little good in the new. Ardently affectionate, a loyal friend and bountiful mistress, she was keenly sensitive to every act of fidelity. According to the contemporary chronicle already quoted,[65] “she was so bred as she hated evil, knew no foul or unclean speeches, which when her lord father understood, he would not believe it, but would try it once by Sir Francis Brian, being at a mask in the court; and finding it to be true notwithstanding, perceiving her to be prudent, and of a princely spirit, did ever after more honour her”.

But the fatal shadow of Anne, daughter of Sir Thomas Boleyn, had fallen on the throne, and the king’s infatuation for her was to sweep both his wife and his daughter into a vortex of misery from which there was no escape for one of them but death. Whether Wolsey first insinuated the doubt as to the validity of the king’s marriage, in order to pander to Henry’s wandering fancies, or whether Henry himself, carried away by his passion for Anne Boleyn, evolved the idea of a possible flaw in his union with Katharine, matters little. The question was soon entangled in a mass of chicanery, and whichever of the two may have been the first to strike the match, it was clear to Wolsey, that his fortunes depended henceforth on his keeping the flame alive. The subject had been mooted as far back as 1525, and the first mention of the coming divorce, of which we have any record, is contained in a letter from Warham, Archbishop of Canterbury, to Wolsey. Referring to some other business, Warham says, “it will be better not to proceed further, till this great matter of the King’s grace be ended”.[66] Again in 1526, after a long interval in which the subject seems to have been dropped, the Bishop of Bath and Wells remarked to the Cardinal of York, “there will be great difficulty circa istud benedictum divortium”.[67]

The sack of Rome by the Imperialists, and the Pope’s captivity delayed the investigation of the cause by the papal courts to which it had been referred, but in 1527, Henry’s “scruples” for having married his brother’s widow began to be talked of as the King’s “great,” “secret” or “private matter”.[68] Possibly, when Henry first began to study the Scriptures, and the writers of antiquity in search of arguments to support his “scruples,” he may not yet have fallen in love with Anne, or at least Wolsey did not know that he had. When he did set his mind on marrying her, it did not seem probable that his fancy would outlive the necessary delays and preliminaries of a divorce, even if it could be obtained, or that the ambition of the Boleyns would be equal to the influence of the Cardinal. But during Wolsey’s absence in France, the whole subject assumed a point and a piquancy hitherto undreamed of. Wolsey had not fostered Henry’s desires in order to further his marriage with the grand-daughter of a wealthy merchant. He himself aimed at nothing short of the Papacy, and he thought that by negotiating a brilliant marriage with a princess of France, he could make for himself a convenient stepping-stone thereto, far more secure than that which Mary’s marriage would afford. As the candidate of two powerful monarchs, he would practically control the next conclave; but the Boleyns could do nothing for him. He had yet to learn that Anne was strong enough to work his ruin.

Before his departure for his embassy to France, he had, in collusion with the King, held a secret legatine court, together with Archbishop Warham, and had cited Henry to appear, and answer the charge of having lived unlawfully for eighteen years with his brother’s widow. A second sitting of the court was held on the 20th May, and a third on the 31st.

Thus were the proceedings opened, but Henry, fearing that the authority of the two archbishops might not be weighty enough to bring the affair to a crisis, proposed that the question, whether a man might marry his late brother’s wife, should be submitted to the most learned bishops in England, counting on their subserviency to obtain the answer he wished. But the bishops were less amenable than he expected. Most of them replied that with a papal dispensation such a marriage would be perfectly valid.

All this time, Henry imagined that his secret had been kept; but Katharine was well aware of what was pending. On the 22nd June he broached the subject to her, telling her that he had been living in mortal sin, and that henceforth he would abstain from her company. He asked her to remove to some place at a distance from the court. Katharine, greatly agitated, burst into tears, and would neither admit the reasonableness of his doubts nor agree to live apart from him. In the actual state of affairs, Henry could do no more, and for a time nothing was changed. Anne was almost constantly at court, and the divorce was now openly spoken of, but was extremely unpopular. No one believed in Henry’s scruples, but Anne played her part with tact, and her power increased daily. To give some colour to the proceedings, Henry and Wolsey had trumped up an ingenious story. They declared that during the treaty for Mary’s marriage with Francis or the Duke of Orleans, the Bishop of Tarbes had expressed a doubt as to her legitimacy.[69] This story was made to do duty in England, but no trace of the Bishop of Tarbes having made such a remark is to be found in France, nor was any use made of the pretext in the subsequent trial at Rome.[70] It is in distinct contradiction with the well-known fact that the bishop was in favour of the marriage, and did all he could to bring it about. Moreover, during all the long and tedious discussions between the two kings at that time, not a word transpired, even when Wolsey went to France, of Henry’s intention to repudiate Katharine, not a doubt was expressed of Mary’s legitimacy. Henry always alluded to his daughter at that time as heiress to the throne. But on Wolsey’s return, matters at once assumed a different aspect. Elated with the success of his embassy, the Cardinal of York seemed to have the world at his feet. He had all but married Mary to the King of France, who was in need of nothing more than of England’s friendship. As soon as this union was accomplished, Henry’s marriage might be successfully broken, and a new one negotiated with a daughter of France, when two grateful monarchs would hold the triple crown over his expectant head. But now all this choice fabric of his dreams was imperilled by the clashing ambition of a woman, even then lightly spoken of. Anne, knowing that he would be her bitterest foe, obtained to be present at his first audience with the King, and shortly after, Henry told him that he intended to marry her. Seeing that arguments, entreaties and warnings were futile, Wolsey turned round and paid court to the rising star. But Anne never forgave his opposition, and never trusted him. She taunted Henry with his bondage to the Cardinal, and did not rest till she had stirred up strife between them, on the subject of the nomination of an Abbess of Wilton. The quarrel was patched up, but it proved to be the rift within the lute, that was to make harmony impossible, and to lead on to his fall.

Meanwhile, Mary was still in ignorance of the events that were to influence all her future. Her education went on without interruption, and in the summer of 1528, Katharine, who, in spite of overwhelming anxieties, had room in her mind for solicitude regarding her daughter’s studies, wrote to Ludovicus Vives to express a wish that he would come and teach the Princess Latin, during the following winter. He consented, and returned to England on the 1st October, “to please the King and Queen”. By this time Katharine was in dire need of help, advice and consolation. “She told him how deeply she was afflicted about the controversy concerning her marriage; and, thinking him well read in matters of moral, began to open out to him as her countryman, on the subject of her grief.”[71] Vives prudently replied that “her sorrows were a proof that she was dear to God, for that thus He was accustomed to chasten His own”. But he proved himself a true friend to the Queen, and took occasion to write to Henry, begging him to consider the danger of his course in incurring the enmity of the Emperor. If his object was to have a son, he might choose a suitable person to marry his daughter. If he were to take another wife, there was no certainty that she would bear him a son, or that a son would live. A new marriage would leave the succession doubtful, and afford grounds for civil war. He was, he said, moved to write by his duty to the King, love to England, where he was so kindly received, and anxiety for the peace of Christendom.[72]

Katharine had, in truth, need of patience. Anne grew daily more overbearing, and it was hardly to be expected that the Queen’s sense of humour should be equal to the grotesque littleness, with which the favourite exulted over her enemies. In a hapless moment she showed her contempt for them by the device, Ainsi sera, groigne qui groigne, which she caused to be embroidered on her servants’ liveries, but learned to her mortification that she had unwittingly adopted the motto of her bitter enemies, the princes of the house of Burgundy. In England, the friends of the Queen cried: “Groigne qui groigne et vive Bourgoigne!” The liveries, being thus covered with ridicule, had to be discarded, and on Christmas Day, her servants appeared in their old doublets.[73]

In October 1528, the papal legate, Cardinal Campeggio arrived in London. The Pope had charged him with the mission to do his utmost to restore mutual affection between the King and Queen, and failing this result, to open a court of inquiry, in conjunction with Wolsey.

But it was clear that no reconciliation would be possible. Henry was infatuated with Anne; and as for the legatine court, the two judges were at cross purposes, Wolsey aiming at nothing but a verdict against the marriage, while Campeggio was determined that justice should be done. His policy was to counteract the haste with which the proceedings were hurried forward, “with great strides always faster than a trot,” and in this he succeeded so well, that the legates being pressed to give sentence in the King’s favour by the 22nd July, Campeggio declared, that if Wolsey agreed with him, he was willing to pronounce sentence, otherwise it would not be pronounced. The cause was then removed to Rome, to be tried before the Court of the Rota, and it being apparent that Wolsey possessed neither weight nor credit with the Pope, his fall became imminent. Anne had not schemed in vain, and his disgrace filled her with exultation, although her cause was in no way benefited by it.

We are greatly indebted for the history of the Queen and the Princess Mary, during the next few years, to the interesting despatches of the imperial ambassador, Eustace Chapuys, who arrived in England in August 1529. He was a native of Switzerland, aged about thirty, of distinguished, and even courtly manners, eloquent, quick-witted and trustworthy. Charles V. had been so much impressed with his sagacity that he sent him as ambassador, first to Francis I., then to Henry VIII., both enemies who required judicious handling. Full of minute details, his letters cannot be said to present either a wholly impartial, or still less a one-sided view of passing events. Chapuys was an avowed friend of the unhappy Queen and of her daughter, but as the accredited envoy of Charles V. he would not be likely to furnish him with false statements, or garbled facts, and although his natural bias leads him to write with eulogy of the Queen and the Princess, and with acrimony of their enemies, he would not have been the diplomatist he proved himself to be had he misled Charles as to the details of the tragedy that was being played before his eyes. He was a shrewd observer, tactful and discreet, so that he never compromised his position at court by showing too much zeal. He contrived to give Henry and Cromwell the impression that he was acting solely as the Emperor’s diplomatic agent, and thus was at first allowed to communicate freely with Katharine and Mary, and was often able to render them important service.

In transcribing portions of these letters, Dr. Gairdner’s excellent translations of the original documents in the Vienna archives, and the versions of Don Pasquale de Gayangos have been used. Mr. Rawdon Brown’s transcripts from the Venetian archives are still important, and later on, of even greater interest.

The condition in which Chapuys found the English Court was unique. Henry continued to treat Katharine with outward decency; they still sometimes dined together in public, and occasionally hunted in each other’s company. But Anne was never far off, and when at court, was treated with as much ceremony as the Queen herself. Mary was seldom allowed to visit her parents, probably because of Anne’s intense dislike to her. The favourite was, perhaps not unnaturally, less jealous of the wife whom Henry had ceased to care for, than of the daughter whom he was supposed to idolise. Both at Hampton Court and Windsor there was ample accommodation for the Queen, and the mistress as well; but at York Place, Whitehall, which Henry had seized on Wolsey’s fall, there was no suitable apartment for Katharine; and Anne was always best pleased to be there, for then Henry left his wife at Greenwich. But the court was seldom in London, and Anne agitated incessantly that she might be banished.[74]

In March 1531, Mary was allowed to visit her mother; but in April she had an illness, and wrote to the King that no medicine would do her so much good as to see him and the Queen, and desired his permission to come to them both at Greenwich. “This,” said Chapuys, “has been refused, to gratify the Lady, who hates her as much as the Queen, or more so, chiefly because she sees the King has some affection for her. Of late, when the King praised her in the Lady’s presence, the latter was very angry, and began to vituperate the Princess very strangely. She becomes more arrogant every day, using words and authority towards the King, of which he has several times complained to the Duke of Norfolk, saying that she was not like the Queen, who had never in her life used ill words to him.”[75]

On the 14th May, he writes: “The King, dining the other day with the Queen, as is usual in most festivals, began to speak of the Turk, and the truce concluded with your Majesty, praising your puissance, contrary to his wont. Afterwards, proceeding to speak of the Princess, he accused the Queen of cruelty, because she had not made her physician reside continually with her; and so the dinner passed off amicably. Next day, when the Queen, in consequence of these gracious speeches, asked the King to allow the Princess to see them, he rebuffed her very rudely, and said she might go and see the Princess if she wished, and also stop there. The Queen graciously replied, that she would not leave him for her daughter, nor for any one else in the world, and there the matter stopped.”

Worried at the opposition which he encountered in his efforts to get rid of Katharine, Henry told the Duke of Norfolk that it would have been a great blessing if this marriage had never been made, but on second thoughts, he added, “nevertheless, this would have been a great pity, since of it there had come such a pearl as the Princess, who was one of the most beautiful and virtuous ladies of the world”.[76]

In 1530, Mary was still called Princess of Wales, and until the autumn of the following year, her father kept up an appearance of civility towards her mother, visiting her in her apartments every three days. At last, however, he left her at Windsor, and went away hunting with Anne. Katharine sent to inquire after his health, and he replied by an angry letter, forbidding her to write to him. To add to the insult, there was no address on the letter, “probably,” says Chapuys, “because a change of name was contemplated; but the Princess is with her, and this will make her forget her grief for the absence of the King. They amuse themselves by hunting, and visiting the royal houses round Windsor, expecting some good news from Rome.”[77]

Chapuys told the Emperor that the Pope had said, that “if there was written evidence of the great familiarity and scandalous conversation, and bad example of the King and the Lady, and of the ill-treatment of the Queen, his Holiness would immediately fulminate his censures”. But, by this time, Henry was reckless of all save Anne, and his hunting expedition having come to an end, he wished to return to Windsor, and intimated to Katharine that both she and her daughter must depart. Mary was to return to Richmond, while she herself had orders to repair to the More, a house in Hertfordshire, formerly belonging to Wolsey, but which had come into the possession of the Abbey of St. Albans, and was granted to the King, in December 1531. The house itself is described as “a commodious habitation in summer,” but the park and garden were in a ruinous condition and “the ways so foul that those who went there in carriages, broke down the pales and made highway through the park”. The keeper, Sir John Russell, wrote repeatedly to Cromwell about the condition of the said palings, but could get no answer, and complained that if the king would “give no money for the paling,” no deer would be left; and if the charge were not so great, he would bear it out of his own purse. Moreover, the king would only give the gardener sixpence a day, and no one would take it at that price. If he would give eightpence, Sir John declares that he himself would contribute “twenty nobles of the charge”. “The Queen’s servants, with their carriage, broke down the pales in many places.”[78]

Katharine remained at this place for several months. She declared that she would have preferred going to the Tower as a prisoner, but Chapuys said that the King knew quite well, that if he sent her there, the people would have risen in mutiny; that he was often waylaid as he went to hunt, with entreaties to take the Queen back, and that Anne met with insults from the women wherever she went. Nevertheless, she protested loudly, that the King would marry her in three or four months, and began preparing for her royal state.

Katharine never saw her daughter again, and could only communicate with her secretly. They were sternly forbidden to write to each other, whereupon Mary begged that some one might be sent from the King to read the letters which she wrote to her mother, that it might be seen she only informed her about her health. But even this was refused, and henceforth none but furtive missives passed between them, letters written in dread, and conveyed with danger, at times when exceptional terrors appeared to hang over the one or the other. Henry hoped by a systematic persecution, to break the spirit of both; but each was of the blood royal of Spain, the noblest in Europe, and the indignities heaped upon them only served to increase the dignity with which they suffered. Mary was, moreover, a Tudor also, and could be as resolute as her father.

In 1531, an Italian, Mario Savagnano, with some companions, paid a visit to the English Court, and in an interesting account of his journey recorded his impressions of the King, Queen, and Princess:—

“I saw the King twice, and kissed his hand; he is glad to see foreigners, and especially Italians; he embraced me joyously, and then went out to hunt with some forty to fifty horsemen. He is tall of stature, very well formed and of very handsome presence, beyond measure affable, and I never saw a prince better disposed than this one. He is also learned and accomplished, and most generous and kind, and were it not that he now seeks to repudiate his wife, after having lived with her for twenty-two years, he would be no less perfectly good, and equally prudent. But this thing detracts greatly from his merits, as there is now living with him a young woman of noble birth, though many say of bad character, whose will is law to him, and he is expected to marry her should the divorce take place, which it is supposed will not be effected, as the peers of the realm, both spiritual and temporal, are opposed to it; nor during the present Queen’s life will they have any other queen in the kingdom. Her Majesty is prudent and good; and during these differences with the King, she has evinced constancy and resolution, never being disheartened or depressed. I returned to Windsor Castle, and from thence, on the fourth day of my departure from London, arrived at a palace called the More, where the Queen resides. In the morning we saw her Majesty dine: she had some thirty maids of honour standing round the table, and about fifty who performed its service. Her court consists of about two hundred persons, but she is not so much visited as heretofore, on account of the King. Her Majesty is not of tall stature, rather small. If not handsome, she is not ugly; she is somewhat stout, and has always a smile on her countenance. We next went to another palace called Richmond, where the Princess her daughter resides; and having asked the maggiordomo for permission to see her, he spoke to the chamberlain, and then to the governess (the Countess of Salisbury) and they made us wait. Then, after seeing the palace, we returned to the hall, and having entered a spacious chamber, where there were some venerable old men, with whom we discoursed, the Princess came forth, accompanied by a noble lady, advanced in years, who is her governess, and by six maids of honour. This Princess is not tall, has a pretty face, and is well proportioned, with a very beautiful complexion, and is fifteen years old. She speaks Spanish, French, and Latin, besides her own mother-English tongue, is well grounded in Greek, and understands Italian, but does not venture to speak it. She sings excellently, and plays on several instruments, so that she combines every accomplishment. We were then taken to a sumptuous repast, after which we returned to our lodging, whither, according to the fashion of the country, the Princess sent us a present of wine and ale (which last is another beverage of theirs) and white bread. On the next day, which was the 6th, we returned to London to the house of our ambassador, where we remained two days, and then by boat went down the Thames, which is very broad, and covered with swans, and thus we got to Dover the passage port.”[79]

KATHARINE OF ARRAGON.
From a fine original in miniature by Holbein, formerly in Horace Walpole’s Collection at Strawberry Hill.

Another Italian visitor, the Venetian, Ludovico Falier, describes Mary at sixteen years old as “a very handsome, amiable and accomplished princess, in no respect inferior to her mother”. He remarks that Katharine was so much loved and respected, that the people were beginning to murmur against the King. “Were,” he continues, “the faction to produce a leader, it is certain that the English nation, so prone to innovation and change, would take up arms for the Queen, and by so much the more, were it arranged for the leader to marry the Princess Mary, although by English law females are excluded from the Crown.”[80]

Another, Marin Giustinian, writing to the Signory, says: “The English King is not popular with his subjects, chiefly on account of his intention to divorce his wife, who is much loved, and they hold her daughter in very great account”.[81]

A month later, the same writer was at Paris, and says:—

“The English ambassador here, Sir John Wallop, does not approve the divorce; praising the wisdom, innocence, and patience of Queen Katharine, as also her daughter. He says that the Queen was beloved as if she had been of the blood royal of England, and the Princess in like manner.”[82]

And from Lyons, on the 28th March 1533, he writes that a gentleman who has come from England has told Sir John Wallop, that “the King does not choose the Princess any longer to be styled Princess, but ‘Madam Mary,’ nor will he give her in marriage abroad; others say that he intends to make her a nun”. In August Marc Antonio Venier, in a despatch to the Signory from Rome, says that “letters from England announce that the Archbishop of Canterbury has pronounced a sentence in favour of Henry, prohibiting Katharine to be any longer named Queen, and is having it proclaimed throughout the realm, so that she may not be able to defend herself; and her daughter has been admonished not to interfere”.[83]

In the main, the Italians were correctly informed as to passing events in England. But at this period, although Henry kept Mary at a distance from court, and had not seen her for three years, she was still treated with a degree of consideration, to which her mother had long been a stranger. He was still uncertain as to the use he would make of her, in securing for himself allies abroad. He hoped that she would submit quietly to the new laws, and therefore, for a time at least, nothing was abated of her royal state. In September 1531, soon after her parting from her mother, a warrant was issued to the Master of the Great Wardrobe “to deliver certain things for the use of the Princess,” nearly all of which were composed of materials then only used by royal personages.[84]

The perennial question of her marriage was again in debate, but was thenceforth removed to a lower level in European politics. Her betrothal to the Duke of Orleans had never been cancelled, but a dispute had arisen between Henry and Francis, on the subject of money. Then, when the validity of her parents’ marriage became a matter of discussion in all the Universities of Europe, Francis wished that the case should be first settled, “lest the world should declare that his son had married a bastard”.[85] And in the midst of these delays, the Scottish alliance was again mooted. But the Scotch put too high a value on their friendship with France, to risk such a union;[86] Margaret was too like her brother to commit herself to any definite policy save that of intrigue; and Henry had now more urgent business on hand than the disposal of his daughter in marriage. Some languid interest was excited at court by the proposal of King John Zapolski to marry her, and Chapuys heard that her hand had been sought for the Duke of Cleves;[87] but neither project was seriously entertained. It was also believed that the Pope and the Emperor wished to bestow her on Francesco Sforza, Duke of Milan, who had lost the use of his hands and feet. “And this,” wrote Niño to the Emperor, “would not be half such bad treatment of the daughter as of the mother.”[88]

To all these projects Henry replied that the Princess would never be married except in a high position, for she was still heiress of the kingdom; and when the great affair was settled in the King’s favour, and he remarried, it was uncertain whether he would have male children, and if not she would be preferred to other daughters. If any person ventured to say that she was illegitimate, “he would have his head cut off”.[89]

Wolsey had died in disgrace, on the 27th November 1530, and the chancellorship devolved on his own secretary, Thomas Cromwell, a man who virtually made the history of the next ten years in England. The son of a “fuller of clothes” or dyer, his career had been singularly varied. He had as a mere youth found his way to Italy, where he served as a common soldier, but being preternaturally observant, he succeeded in picking up many scraps of the new learning which fell from the great Medici banquet, then being spread throughout Tuscany. Machiavelli’s book, Il Principe, was the foundation on which his whole future statesmanship was built. On his return to England he was successively a scrivener, a lawyer, a money-lender, and a great wool merchant at Middlesbrough. It was not till he was nearly middle-aged, that he attracted the notice of Wolsey, then beginning the suppression of some small monasteries, in favour of his colleges at Ipswich and Oxford. On Wolsey’s fall, it was thought that he would be imprisoned, but he seized the moment when the tide was turning, and used it to float himself into a safe harbour. Reginald Pole, son of the Countess of Salisbury, had met him at Cardinal Wolsey’s, and had recognised in him the coming man. They had talked philosophy, and Cromwell tried to persuade him that Plato’s system was “a dream,” promising to send him a copy of Il Principe. It was probably at Cromwell’s instigation that Henry offered Pole the Archbishopric of York, although he was not yet in priest’s orders. Seeing the course that the King was now taking, and Cromwell’s growing influence, instead of accepting the benefice, Pole determined to fly the kingdom, “beyond the reach of his bow,”[90] and was in consequence saved from the fate of More and Fisher, and, later on, from that of his own mother. Henry, loth to lose so able an advocate as he would prove, if he could be won over to his cause, refused his repeated request to be allowed to go and study abroad. But at last Pole told him that if he remained in England, he must of necessity attend the Parliament which was about to assemble, and that if the King’s divorce were discussed, he must speak according to his conscience. Henry then at once gave him leave to go, and even promised to continue his income of 400 ducats yearly.[91]

Between the beginning of August 1530 and May 1531, Henry lavished the price of a king’s ransom in jewels upon Anne.[92] But in the catalogue of presents made by him on New Year’s Day, 1532, the names of the Queen and Princess are conspicuously followed by a blank space. Not only did he send them none, but he forbade the members of his council, and others to do so, and this year he abstained for the first time from making presents to the ladies of Katharine’s and Mary’s households. But to Anne he gave the hangings of a room in cloth of gold and silver, and crimson satin with costly embroideries. She was now lodged in the Queen’s apartments, and had almost as many ladies as if she were already queen. Katharine sent a gold cup to the King as a present, but he returned it to her, with a message praising its beauty, but informing her that he could receive no gift from her. So complete was the power of Anne over him at this time, that he was less free than the least of his subjects; and this power she continued to exercise during the entire year then beginning, and a few months longer. Chapuys told the Emperor that one day Henry had met his daughter walking in the fields, but did not say much to her, except to ask her how she was, and to assure her that in future he would see her more often. “It is certain,” he continued, “that the King dares [not] bring her where the Lady is, for she does not wish to see her or hear of her.” He thought that the King would have talked with Mary longer and more familiarly, if the Lady had not sent two of her people to listen. The Princess, he adds, was to be at Windsor during her father’s absence in France, whither he was to be accompanied by Anne, and the Queen was very much afraid that he would marry his mistress at the impending interview with the French king. “But the Lady has assured some person in whom she trusts, that even if the King wished, she would not consent, for she wishes it to be done here, in the place where queens are wont to be married and crowned.”[93]

In anticipation of the journey to France, Anne had been created Marchioness of Pembroke on the 1st September 1532,[94] and was to appear at the meeting with Francis, in great state as the future queen; but as no royal lady could be prevailed on to meet her, not even the Queen of Navarre, who was supposed to be her friend, she was obliged to go unattended by a suite.[95]

She accompanied Henry to Calais, and remained there while he proceeded to join Francis at Boulogne. The two Kings returned together to Calais, and Francis presented Anne with a valuable jewel, complimenting her much on her beautiful dancing. But all this was humiliation compared with the ambitious hopes she had founded on the meeting, and she was more than ever impatient for her marriage, when she imagined that slights would no longer be her portion.

Warham had died on the 23rd August, and Cranmer, already prominent as a creature of Henry’s and of the Boleyns, and a zealous favourer of the divorce, was at once put forward as a candidate for the vacant see of Canterbury. His election was pushed on, in the hope that if the Pope gave an adverse sentence, the new archbishop might then dissolve the King’s marriage by his own authority. But some time must necessarily elapse before the bulls of consecration could be issued, and meanwhile matters were precipitated by Anne’s announcement in January 1533, that Henry might expect an heir to the Crown. It was necessary, if this passionately hoped-for heir was to be Prince of Wales, that Henry and Anne should be married at once.[96] The ceremony was accordingly performed at York Place, on the 25th January, by Rowland Lee, one of the King’s chaplains, whom Henry deceived with the assurance that he had leave from the Pope to contract a new marriage. The event was at first kept secret even from Cranmer, who was informed of it a fortnight later, but Chapuys, ever vigilant and alert, discovered that it had taken place, and informed the Emperor, naming the date as the Feast of the Conversion of St. Paul.[97] The object of the secrecy was twofold; first, in order that a semblance of friendship might be kept up with the Pope till he had granted Cranmer’s bulls, and also that the date of the marriage might be afterwards falsified to claim legitimacy for Anne’s child.[98]

The bulls arrived in March, and Cranmer was immediately consecrated Archbishop of Canterbury. The next step was to pronounce sentence of divorce. A court was opened at Dunstable, on the 10th May, and the Queen cited to appear before it. On her failing to do so, Cranmer declared her contumacious, and on the 23rd, proceeded to pronounce her marriage null, Henry himself dictating the form of the sentence.[99]

Katharine, when she was informed of this proceeding, was at Ampthill, near Dunstable, whither she had been removed from Buckden or Bugden, a house which she had occupied for some months, very inferior to the More, and very damp in winter, belonging to Longland, Bishop of Lincoln, one of the first promoters of the divorce. Since her arrival at Ampthill, Henry had twice sent to her to inform her of his marriage with Anne, and to forbid her any longer to take the title of Queen. She was henceforth to be styled Princess Dowager, to retire to one of the houses settled on her by his brother, Prince Arthur, and live on a small income, as the King would no longer pay her expenses, or the wages of her servants. She answered on both occasions with calmness and dignity, that as long as she lived she would call herself Queen, but that if the King objected to the expense of her allowance, she would be contented with what she had, and with her confessor, physician, apothecary and two women, would go wherever he wished. If food for herself and servants failed her, she would go and beg for the love of God.[100]

Anne was now triumphant. Her coronation was fixed for the 1st June, and the nearer she approached to the desired goal, the more insolent became her conduct and language.[101] Already, on the 10th April, Chapuys had written with great earnestness to the Emperor, urging him to make war upon Henry, considering the very great injury done to madame, his aunt, “for it is to be feared,” so ran the letter, “that the moment this accursed Anne sets her foot firmly in the stirrup she will try to do the Queen all the harm she possibly can, and the Princess also, which is the thing your aunt dreads most. Indeed, I hear she has lately boasted that she will make of the Princess a maid-of-honour in her royal household, that she may perhaps give her too much dinner on some occasion, or marry her to some varlet, which would be an irreparable evil.”[102]

In another part of the same letter he says: “I hear that the King is about to forbid every one, under pain of death, to speak in public or private, in favour of the Queen. After that, he will most likely proceed to greater extremities, unless God and your Majesty prevent it. Again, I beseech your Majesty to forgive me if I dare give advice in such matters, for besides the above causes, the great pity I have for the Queen and the Princess, your Majesty’s aunt and niece (sic), absolutely compel me to take this course. Though the King is by nature kind and generously inclined, this Anne has so perverted him, that he does not seem the same man. It is therefore to be feared that unless your Majesty applies a prompt remedy to this evil, the Lady will not relent in her persecution, until she actually finishes with Queen Katharine, as she once did with Cardinal Wolsey, whom she did not hate half so much. The Queen, however, is not afraid for herself; what she cares most for is the Princess.”

And again, in the same letter: “The Queen is to take the title of old dowager Princess. As for the Princess Mary, no title has been yet given to her,” and Chapuys fancies that they will wait to settle this until “la dame aye faict lenfant”.[103]

Anne’s coronation in Westminster Abbey, magnificent as a ceremony and a procession, was marked by an absence of popular enthusiasm amounting to general stupefaction. The crowd, silent and sullen, could not be persuaded to take off their hats and cry “God save the Queen,” and when one of Anne’s attendants told the lord mayor to order them to cheer as usual, he answered that he “could not command people’s hearts, and even the King could not do so”. The court and the nobility did their best to grace the ceremony, but the Duchess of Norfolk refused to be present, and no one was surprised, for her loyalty to Queen Katharine was known.

Henry had caused his own and Anne’s initials, H. and A., to be interwoven in every imaginable device, but the people interpreted them derisively—Ha! ha! They even went so far as to insult the French ambassador and his suite, because they were known to be Anne’s friends, calling them “French dogs”.[104]

When Katharine left Ampthill to return to Buckden, all the neighbourhood turned out to do her honour. In defiance of the order not to style her queen, they shouted at the top of their voices: “Long live Queen Katharine,” wishing her joy, repose, and prosperity, and confusion to her enemies. They begged her with tears, to set them to work and employ them in her service, protesting that they were ready to die for her.[105] A few days before, Henry had sent Lord Mountjoy, her chamberlain, and several other gentlemen to Ampthill, to tell her once more that she must henceforth bear the title of Dowager-Princess of Wales. But she declared that she would never accept service from any one, or answer any one who addressed her by that title. On being shown the report of the interview with her, which had been drawn up by the deputation, she crossed out the words Dowager-Princess wherever they appeared.

The news of Henry’s independent action, and of Cranmer’s sentence at Dunstable, had duly reached the Pope’s ears, and had brought the cause before the Rota[106] to a sudden climax. A brief was at once issued, declaring that Cranmer, and all those who had co-operated with him in the matter, had incurred the greater excommunication, and the Papal anathemas were prepared. Henry appealed from the authority of the Pope to a General Council, and withdrew his ambassador from Rome. It was the beginning of the breach with the Pope.

On the 7th September, Anne gave birth to a daughter, and Chapuys wrote to Charles: “The Lady’s daughter has been christened Elizabeth, not Mary as I wrote in my last despatch. The christening ceremony was as dull and disagreeable (mal playcante) as the mother’s coronation. Neither at court nor at this city of London nor elsewhere have there been bonfires, illuminations, and rejoicings customary on such occasions. Immediately after the christening of this daughter of the King a herald, standing at the gate of the church, proclaimed her Princess of England; and previously to that, that is, immediately after the child’s birth, the same herald announced that the good, true, and legitimate Princess (of Wales) was no longer to be called so; the badges usually borne by her laquais on their coats-of-arms were instantly removed, and replaced by the King’s skutcheon. In fact, a rumour is afloat, and not without foundation, that her household and allowance are to be shortly reduced. May God in His infinite mercy prevent a still worse treatment. Meanwhile, the Princess, prudent and virtuous as she naturally is, has taken all these things with patience, trusting entirely in God’s mercy and goodness. She has addressed to her mother, the Queen, a most wonderful letter, full of consolation and comfort. I shall not fail, however, after hearing the Queen’s wishes, and receiving her orders, to remonstrate and protest against so enormous an injury and injustice, as the one just inflicted upon her and her daughter, the Princess, though I very much fear—and indeed am almost sure—that all my remonstrances will lead to nothing, for certainly, the King’s obdurate sin, and his own misfortune have so shut his ears that no arguments of any sort or prayers shall be listened to. Indeed, something more than mere words will be required to make him return to the right path.”[107]

But Anne would allow of no respite in the persecution of Henry’s wife and daughter, and the King was now committed to a systematic policy, by which they were to be reduced to submission. A document now in the Record Office, endorsed “Articles to be proposed to my lady Mary,” marks the next act of the drama. They are as follows: “Articles to be proponed and showed on our behalf unto our daughter, lady Mary, and all other the officers and servants of her household, by our right trusty and right well-beloved cousin and councillors, the earls of Oxford, Essex and Sussex, and by our trusty and right well-beloved clerk and councillor, the Dean of our Chapel, whom we send at this time unto our said daughter.

“1. They are to assemble on Wednesday next, at Chemsforth (Chelmsford) and after communicating with each other on their charge, repair to Beaulieu (New Hall) where our said daughter now abides, and there declare their credence as follows, by the mouth of the Dean of the Chapel, viz.:—

“2. That the King is surprised to be informed both by lord Husaye’s letters, and by his said daughter’s own, delivered by one of her servants, that she, forgetting her filial duty and allegiance, attempts, in spite of the commandment given her by lord Hussy, and by the letters of Sir Will. Pallett, controller of the Household, arrogantly to usurp the title of Princess, pretending to be heir apparent, and encourages to do the like, declaring that she cannot in conscience, think but she is the King’s lawful daughter, born in true matrimony, and believes the King in his own conscience thinks the same. That to prevent her pernicious example spreading, they have been commanded to declare to her the folly and danger of her conduct, and how the King intends that she shall use herself henceforth, both as to her title and as to her household. That she has worthily deserved the King’s high displeasure and punishment by law, but that on her conforming to his will, he may incline of his fatherly pity to promote her welfare.”

Mary had thus written to her father on the 2nd October:—

“This morning my chamberlain came and informed me that he had received a letter from Sir Will. Paulet, controller of your House, to the effect that I should remove at once to Hertford Castle.

“I desired to see the letter, in which was written ‘the lady Mary, the King’s daughter,’ leaving out the name of Princess. I marvelled at this, thinking your Grace was not privy to it, not doubting but you take me for your lawful daughter, born in true matrimony. If I agreed to the contrary, I should offend God; in all other things, you shall find me an obedient daughter. From your manor of Beaulieu, 2 Oct.”[108]

On the 16th, the imperial ambassador again writes:—

“Nothing new has occurred since the date of my last despatch, except that the King has made the Princess, his daughter, move from the fine house in which she was dwelling to a very wretched one, most unfit for this present season. He has done still more, the Princess’s residence he has given, or let—I cannot say which—to lord Rochefort, the brother of the Lady, who is already furnishing it, and sending thither his household servants. I omitted in my last despatch to specify all the names of those who had gone, by the King’s commands, to speak to the Princess. These were: the earls of Auffort (Oxford), Excez (Essex), and Succez (Sussex), and Dr. Sampson, all of whom tried by prayers, threats and persuasions innumerable, to make her give up the name and title of Princess, and submit entirely to her father’s will, in this respect, as God commands. But the Princess, I am told, replied so wisely and discreetly, that the said lords knew not what to say, and all shed tears in consequence (et ny eust personne a la compagnie que ne pleurast bien chauldement). And I hear also, that following her mother’s example, she would never consent to hear them in private; but insisted on their delivering the King’s message in public, and before all her household assembled for the purpose. She was no doubt afraid, as she has since declared, that in the absence of witnesses, the King’s deputies might make some statement to her prejudice or disadvantage. It is impossible for me to describe the love and affection which the English bear to their Princess; but they are already so much accustomed to see and tolerate such disorderly things, that they tacitly commit the redress of the same to God, and to your Majesty.“

It was about this time, that Katharine, upon the warning she had received from Chapuys, wrote the following letter to Mary:—

“Daughter, I heard such tidings to-day, that I do perceive, if it is true, the time is come that Almighty God will prove you; and I am very glad of it, for I trust He doth handle you with a good love. I beseech you, agree to His pleasure with a merry heart; and be you sure, that without fail, He will not suffer you to perish, if you beware to offend Him. I pray you, good daughter, to offer yourself to Him. If any pangs come to you,[109] shrive yourself; first make you clean; take heed of His commandments, and keep them as near as He will give you grace to do, for then are you sure armed. And if this lady do come to you, as it is spoken, if she do bring you a letter from the King, I am sure, in the self-same letter, you shall be commanded what you shall do. Answer you with few words, obeying the King your father in everything, save that you will not offend God, and lose your own soul; and go no further with learning and disputation in the matter. And wheresoever and in whatsoever company you shall come, [obey] the King’s commandments. Speak you few words, and meddle nothing. I will send you two books in Latin: one shall be De Vita Christi, with the declaration of the Gospels, and the other the Epistles of Hierome, that he did write always to St. Paula and Eustochium; and in them I trust you shall see good things. And sometimes, for your recreation, use your virginals, if you have any. But one thing specially I desire you, for the love you do owe unto God, and unto me, to keep your heart with a chaste mind, and your body from all ill and wanton company, [not] thinking nor desiring any husband, for Christ’s Passion; neither determine yourself to any manner of living, until this troublesome time be past, for I dare make you sure that you shall see a very good end, and better than you can desire. I would God, good daughter, that you did know with how good a heart I do write this letter unto you. I never did one with a better, for I perceive very well that God loveth you. I beseech Him of His goodness to continue it; and if it fortune that you shall have nobody to be with you of your acquaintance, I think it best to keep your keys yourself, for howsoever it is, so shall be done as shall please them. And now you shall begin, and by likelihood I shall follow. I set not a rush by it; for when they have done the uttermost they can, then I am sure of the amendment. I pray you recommend me unto my good lady Salisbury, and pray her to have a good heart, for we never come to the Kingdom of Heaven but by troubles. Daughter, wheresoever you become, take no pain to send for (to?) me, for if I may I will send to you.

“By your loving mother, Katharine, the Queen.”[110]

FOOTNOTES:

[64] Privy Purse Expenses of the Princess Mary, Introductory Memoir.

[65] The Life of Jane Dormer, Duchess of Feria, p. 80 et seq.

[66] Brewer, Cal., vol. iv., pt. i., 1263.

[67] It was reported that Wolsey, having been told by a fortune-teller that his ruin would be wrought through a woman, thought that woman to be Queen Katharine, and that in order to prevent her from being his undoing, he determined to bring her low. He put it into the head of the King’s confessor to suggest to him that he had committed sin in marrying his brother’s wife (Vatican Archives, Record Office transcripts, Bliss, portfolio 53).

[68] The First Divorce of Henry VIII. as told in the State Papers, by Mrs. Hope edited by Francis Aidan Gasquet, D.D., O.S.B., p. 43 et seq.

[69] Brewer, Cal., vol. iv., pt. ii., 3231.

[70] Fisher, Bishop of Rochester, was led to believe that Henry wished, by the investigation, to establish the validity of his marriage, because it had been impugned by the French bishop.

[71] Holograph letter in Latin, Record Office.

[72] Vives, Opera, vii., 134.

[73] Paul Friedmann, Anne Boleyn, vol. i., p. 128.

[74] The series of love-letters addressed by Henry to Anne Boleyn in 1527 and 1528, and preserved in the Vatican Archives, leave no possible doubt as to the relations existing between the King and Anne at that time. A summary of their contents is contained in Brewer’s 4th Cal., 3218-21, 3325-26, 3990, 4383, 4403, 4410, 4477, 4537, 4539, 4597, 4648, 4742, 4894.

[75] Chapuys to Charles V., 29th April 1531, Vienna Archives.

[76] Gairdner, Cal., v., 308.

[77] Gairdner, Cal., v., 361.

[78] Ibid., vi., 347, 401, 426.

[79] Venetian Calendar, vol. iv., 682.

[80] An obvious mistake. He imagined that the Salic law pertained in England.

[81] Sanuto Diaries, vol. lvii., p. 475.

[82] Ibid., vol. lviii., p. 125.

[83] Sanuto Diaries, vol. lviii.

[84] On the 27th September, 1531, a warrant was issued to the Master of the Great Wardrobe, “to deliver for the use of the Princess: 1, a gown of cloth of silver tissue, the same to be lined with plain cloth of silver; 2, a gown of purple velvet, to be lined with the same; 3, a gown of black tinsel to be lined with the same; 4, a gown of right crimson satin, to be lined with cloth of gold of tissue; 5, a gown of black velvet lukes, furred with ermines—every of the said gowns to contain eleven and a half yards; 6, a nightgown of black velvet of ten yards, furred with coney; 7, a kirtle of cloth of gold, with works and sleeves of the same; 8, a kirtle of cloth of silver tissue and sleeves of the same; 9, a kirtle of black tinsel with sleeves of the same; every of the said kirtles with sleeves to contain seven and a half yards; 10, as much right satin as will line the hood and sleeves thereof; 11, a cloak case of satin of Bruges; 12, two parteletts, one of black velvet and the other of black satin, lined with sarsanet; 13, one piece of fine Holland cloth at 3s. 4d. the ell for smocks; 14, twenty ells of fine cambric for railles; 15, six pieces of pointing riband and for garters; 16, eight ounces of lacing riband; 17, one piece of broad riband for girdles; 18, sixteen pair of velvet shoes; 21, three French hoods; 22, a yard of white satin, a yard of crimson satin, and a yard of black velvet for billements for the same; 23, a night bonnet of ermines; 24, a dozen lawn parteletts; 25, ten thousand pins; 26, one pound of thread; 27, two hundred needles; 28, one pound of silk of divers colours; 29, four brushes and four rubbers; 30, twenty ells of linen cloth at 10d. the ell for certain necessaries; and to pay for the making and furring all the premises. Waltham Monastery, 27 Sep., 1531. Signed and sealed” (Record Office).

[85] Sanuto Diaries, vol. lvi., p. 257.

[86] The Regent, Louise of Savoy, told the Scotch ambassador, that she knew the Queen and Council were too wise to give up an ancient friend for an enemy who wished to become reconciled to Scotland, in order to separate it from France (Teulet, i., 49).