THE commission of the Duke of Suffolk, Sir Richard Wingfield, and Dr West was for the renewing of the peace with France which had been concluded with Louis XII. for the lives of the two Kings and one year after, and for the settling of the Dowager-Queen's affairs and the conveying of her out of the realm. "They were to demand restitution as well of such jewels, precious stones, plate, apparel and other things that her Grace brought with her, as also of the charge of her traduction, which the French King received for the value of 200,000 crowns." They would also have to take possession of the lands of the Queen's dowry. Francis would have made the renewing of the amity depend on the giving up of Tournay if he had dared, and, as it was, he was very friendly with the ambassadors of Flanders, the Lord Nassau and the Count de St Py, who were come to Paris to ask for the long-desired marriage with a daughter of France. Margaret de Savoie with the English alliance had gone by the wall, and she said, almost weeping, to Spinelly, "that God knoweth the faithful mind she had borne to England and what had ensued unto her thereof, and how the Emperor without her knowledge had handled the putting out of tutela of the Prince to the great prejudice of her honor."[390] She was compelled to let ChiÈvres have his way, and that way was the French marriage; though Maximilian was eager now to have Mary for his grandson, and sent Henry grave warning of the difficulty of getting princesses returned out of France, and said that it might come to retrieving her at the sword's point.[391] But Flanders wanted no English princess, and put all their hope in alliance with France, and if a piece of wood had come out of France it would have been received for an ambassador.[392] There was still an English party at Brussels, and Margaret, speaking of Mary's possible marriages, said "that she knew no prince in Christendom that would gladly have her except one, which, were it not for his Council, peradventure would condescend thereto," which, adds Spinelly, "I suppose would be the Prince."[393] Francis, though he sent the Prince of Castile a cool letter on his accession, saw in the Flemish alliance a way towards realizing his desire to drive the English back to Calais, for between two allied hostile countries their position on the Flemish border would be easily made untenable. M. de la Guiche had been sent to England to announce his accession, and until his return nothing definite could be concluded, but Francis' great point in his negotiations with Suffolk was the recovery of Tournay. The Duke declined at first to meddle with this, for it was not in his commission, but by the advice of Wingfield and West he told the King of the matter privately. Louise de Savoie, who did everything and looked younger than she had done for years,[394] also spoke to Suffolk of the "great desire the King her son had to recover the city of Tournay." Suffolk was not well pleased at this complication in his amicable proceedings at the French Court, and would gladly have had nothing to do with it. But Spinelly at Brussels had got hold of a French letter to ChiÈvres containing details of a definite Franco-Flemish alliance, and this Wolsey sent on to Suffolk in Paris, asking him to demand an explanation, and, unwilling as the Duke was to court unpleasant relations at this moment, speak of it he must. So he dissembled and showed it to Francis as having been sent direct to him out of Flanders.[395] The King had just tilted successfully and was in great good humour when given the letter. He denied the treaty, but said that he could hardly refuse to receive the Flemish ambassadors, though he would conclude nothing with them till he had concluded with Henry. They had merely made fair promises for the future and excuses for the past, and he had given them very little comfort.[396] And, besides, matters between Henry and himself were in such an amicable way that a couple of days would easily dispatch them. So he talked to Suffolk, who seems to have been lulled by flattery, for Francis also said that in all matters between him and Henry he would make Suffolk judge. The position was tangled enough: on the one hand was the Duke, bound by a promise which he had already secretly broken, and commissioned to get the uttermost farthing out of the French King, on whose help he was supposed to be relying; on the other was Francis, who, while ostensibly helping Suffolk in his ambitions (already secretly consummated without his help) out of mere good nature, was really going to use him as a tool he had bargained for and bought. He was in ignorance that his offer of help had been made known to Henry, and also, whatever he may have suspected, he was not sure of how much royal backing there was behind the Duke. He was sure, however, that his help was worth something to Suffolk, and, like the young Queen, he meant to have the price when and how he desired it. But Suffolk felt himself a match for any Frenchman, the subtlety of the nation having long been the despair of English diplomatists notwithstanding.
Every day now Francis called on Suffolk to know what was doing in the matter of Tournay,[397] and the ambassadors were troubled, for they knew how Henry clung to his conquest and the pains and expense he was at to keep it. So did Francis, and he offered a good sum for its honourable restitution, and urged Suffolk to devise some means for this. Again and again the King said he desired nothing but peace with the King of England, and on Suffolk's reminding him significantly that he also wanted Tournay, he said yes, for it had anciently appertained to France. The ambassadors said, it would be best for him first to renew the last amity and the obligation for the payment of the money still owing to England, and in the meantime they would write for instructions. "My lords," they wrote to the Council, "we took this way because we thought it not honourable for the King our master to restore Tournay by any article comprised in the treaty of peace; for under whatsoever condition it was restored, the bruit should be made in France that the King our master was fain to deliver Tournay to have peace." Then they suggested that if the restoration were contemplated, it should be done secretly and first published at the meeting of the two Kings now under discussion.[398] Francis was not to be put off by the cautious bearing of the English. He left nothing unsaid that might bring him the town. Wolsey was particularly interested in the question. For over a year now he had been trying to get himself recognized as its bishop de facto without success, in spite of Louis XI.'s honest help. Now Suffolk told Francis that the Archbishop was the only man who "might do most pleasure for him for the obtaining of his mind in the premises," and he would do well to write to him. The French Council offered to secure the bishopric to Wolsey if the town were surrendered, and Francis said that he might "not only have that, but the best in France, if he would take it,"[399] and he promised to Suffolk, "on his faith in my hand," that he would make the French bishop-elect give it up to the Archbishop in all haste, and declared he would not stick with Wolsey for ten of the best bishoprics in France. But Wolsey knew, as he said, that probatio amoris est exhibitio operis, and from Ghent came news of French perfidy, for Wolsey's agent, Sampson, wrote that Francis had written in favour of the French bishop-elect, and there was nothing to be done on the spot, for he was in power, and the Lady Margaret, well-disposed as she was, could do nothing.[400]
The condition of affairs at Tournay itself was pithily summed up by the new Lieutenant, Lord Mountjoy. "The city cannot be kept without ready money. There are many strangers, much weapon, many cankered stomachs, some stark traitors within it: the soldiers rude and not to be trusted, poor and cannot put up with slack payment."[401] In fact, the garrison was in open mutiny, and the country round about was none too friendly, and had to be scoured and kept clear of thieves. The arrival of the new Lieutenant was a signal for an outbreak, for the soldiers' pay was in arrears and they were asked to serve another month before they got their wages. The most mutinous were threatened with dismissal, but they got hold of the keys of the gates and said no gates should be opened till the men were paid in full. If pay was not forthcoming they would spoil the town and then depart and leave it. They shouted "money, money, money," and when they were paid ungratefully threatened to hang their marshal; "down with Sir Sampson!" "To satisfy them the Lieutenant suffered a trumpeter to blow to cause him to avoid the town."[402] No doubt French treason was seen in this scene characteristic of all garrisons of that age, where the only discipline was the gibbet and the purse; and because of these difficulties the place became dearer than ever to Henry. It was a useless expense, it gave a rallying-point for Burgundians and French, but still Henry had taken it and he meant to show that he could keep it. Wolsey knew Henry's feelings if any did, and to pass the time he advised Suffolk to inquire as though from himself what lands would be given in exchange for it.[403] Little but the Tournay question was talked of at the French Court, and Suffolk, though he said he would find it hard to get any land at the French King's hand,[404] did as he was told. So he spoke privately with M. de Boissi, who, after Louise de Savoie, had the King's ear. De Boissi said that "the King his master was marvellous desirous to recover it, and that he would think it a marvellous kindness in the King, my master, if he would be content to let him have it for so reasonable a sum to be paid in years." Suffolk remarked that in his own opinion the county of Guisnes might be taken in exchange. On this Boissi asked him to dinner next day, and in the interval communed with the King and his mother, who were both willing to treat on those terms. "Nevertheless the King knew well," said Boissi, "that there should be a [great] clamor on the side of the King for the delivery [of the] subjects of the said country: for he said they were the best Frenchmen in France. Whereunto [I] replied that the King, my master, should have no less clamor for the delivery of the city of Tournay and Tornassen, and so [I begged] him to advertise you to the intent that you [might] break with the King in it."[405] Suffolk was very pleased with the way the negotiation was going, and desired Wolsey to get him a formal commission to treat, and in his inimitable spelling proceeds, "I dowth not bout yt yow and I schall [do] the Kyng howar mastar byttar sarwyes [than] anne man lywyng in thys mattar and hall [hi]s oddar afyrres in these parttes."[406] He would like to have such a commission to show Francis what trust his master had in him, so that the French King shall be "more gladder to be good to me in all [other] affairs." Poor Suffolk! he never got very far away from his obsession. By the end of February the embassy had to report that the Flemish negotiations were proceeding merrily with the French Court, but by the middle of March Peter de la Guiche and John de Selva were again sent to England to sign the treaty for peace and intercourse, and also to renew the league of London, and arrange for the payments promised by Louis XII.
During these two months the Norfolk party in the English Council, that of the "old" nobles (who as well as Suffolk's adherents had drawn French pensions), had tried consistently to prevent the renewal of the French treaty. They desired a return to the traditional policy of amity with the enemies of France, and an edge was given to their opposition by the marriage project which they knew was in the air. There were hindrances on all sides, and it was openly said that Suffolk was no match for the lady, still direct heir to the throne, who might have fulfilled the destiny of a princess, and been a useful bond in some friendship abroad. They made great capital out of Spinelly's news from the Low Countries of ChiÈvres' difficulties with France, of Margaret's desire for the English marriage, and of the report that the Prince's fancy was for Mary and England. With Flanders lay English trade interests, and Maximilian, in spite of his having sold his tutelage for 100,000 crowns, was said to be eager for the marriage; in fact, would marry her himself, rather than let her remain in French hands. Then came rumours about a marriage with Suffolk, and the Flemish gossip galled the King, and was rubbed in, no doubt, by his Council, and did Suffolk no good with either party. The Lady Margaret, report said, could not believe it, and said it was false gossip to the Queen's dishonour. Henry was said to have asked Francis "to be pleased" with the marriage, and Francis withheld his consent, and the Court at Ghent were laying wagers about it.[407] Suffolk's friends in the Court knew not what to do; his star for the moment seemed waning, and they prudently held little communication with him. The restitution of Tournay was desired by many in the Council, but when the news of the secret marriage reached England, authenticated by the Duke's own hand, at once suspicion gave tongue that Suffolk had played the King false, and pledged himself to the restitution of the city in return for support in his marriage venture.[408] It is just probable that this was tacitly so, for though Suffolk had seemed so open about the Tournay business, and had told Henry that Francis had asked him to be the arbiter in the matter, and that he had consented because he thought it more to the King's honour and profit to be judged by his own subject, yet it would be ridiculous to suppose that he was uninfluenced by his personal feelings and by his difficult situation. Suffolk wrote that the matter had "never passed my mouth but once to your Grace. There be but few of your Council but has been in hand with me and [think] it best that you should depart with it, so you might depart with it honourably. Yet, Sir, I insure your Grace that I have not put the French King in none hope of it; insomuch [that I have] caused him to leave it out of his instructions given to his ambassadors to the inte[nt that] he should not do manner anything that should not be to your contentation, but to refer it [to your] pleasure."[409] Suffolk probably thought he was honestly serving his King, but self-advancement had become his habit of mind, and while up to this moment he had advanced evenly by the simple means of Henry's friendship, now at the meeting place of cross currents he knew not how to steer, and thought he was safely hugging the bank while the current was carrying him into danger. It was impossible in this complex situation that it should be otherwise, for he can never be considered other than a man of mediocre intelligence of men and things. His charm of person and manner, his good-natured appreciation of others, his lack of affectation, these were his greatest virtues, the virtues of a good digestion, and none are of great value in diplomacy without a penetrating and directing intelligence.
No doubt it was Norfolk who helped to straighten Henry's face over the question of the dowry, and suggested his demand for "both the stuff and the money," which drew a remonstrance from the ambassadors to Wolsey: "we received from the King's Grace and from your good lordsh[ip] other writings concerning the Queen's dot. A[nd] as in the King's letters it is mentioned that w[e should] make composition for the Queen's traduction s[o as] we take no less sum than is contained in y[our letter], we think that no composition but an extremity. Moreover, seeing that she shall have all her stuff r[eturned?], we think it not reasonable to demand such [sums] as have been laid out by the King's officers f[or] provision of the same, for she may not have both [the] money and the stuff. And sithens it is likely that [we] shall commune with reasonable men, we would be r[ather] loth to demand anything out of reason. Wher[efore] we heartily pray you to know the King's pleasure and further mind in this matter, and by the next post we shall certify you of everything more at large."[410] Wolsey said, however, that the question of gold plate and jewels was the measure of Henry's interest in the affair, and one feels bound to accept the strange spectacle of the King loving and trusting his subject and sister, but unable to resist the chance of making money out of their distressful circumstances. Henry VII. had been called avaricious and he was, not from any Silas Marner-like quality, but to bottom firmly his family and the state. His son had inherited the habit without the occasion, and joined to it the pleasure-loving, self-indulgent nature of his maternal grandfather, and the result was a having temperament and a hollow hand. Now, however, before more could be written on the vexed question of the dot, the fabric of Suffolk's politic handling was dashed to the ground, and he himself was in grave danger.
As we have seen, Suffolk had consented to Mary's tearful importunities and married her secretly, and as the first few weeks passed he had been emboldened in his disobedience by letters from Wolsey containing news of Henry's friendly steadfastness in the matter of the marriage, and by the favour of Francis and of his mother, who craftily pushed the affair to prevent a rapprochement between Flanders and England. These good news he weighed against the advice he had of the many hindrances set about the marriage by the Council and Court in England, and took good heart and cloaked his fault under expressions of devotion. He wrote to the King that he prays he may live no longer should he do "that shall be otherwise to your honour,"[411] and thanked Wolsey in another letter for his friendship, which he says he shall never forget "to me dyyng day."[412] It must have been about a week after the writing of these letters, on February 26, that Suffolk first began to realize that his position was not so secure as in his less jovial moments he had imagined. Henry had, on February 12, written from Greenwich to Francis thanking him for his kind treatment of his sister, but nothing further.[413] On the 14th Francis wrote to England at Mary's dictation, and the lovers were expecting the answer with confidence. It came through Wolsey, probably in the first days of March. The King, said Wolsey, was, by the advice of his Council, writing to Suffolk and the other ambassadors plain answers of his mind and pleasure upon those things contained in their letters, dated Paris, February 18, and therefore he would make no mention of the same. But the King had last Sunday, after he had communed with his Council and determined the making of the said answers, called Wolsey apart and willed him to write to Suffolk and show him, as he knew right well, that the King would have the French King's plate of gold and jewels for his benevolent mind to the Queen and him for the accomplishment of their desires. He charged Suffolk to "substantially stick" to this business, and said that though he would gladly give him permission to return home with the Queen, he cannot do this till "ye have perfected and established" the question of the dot. "Wherefore, my lord, I require and advise you, inasmuch as the King's Grace hath great mind to the King's plate of gold and jewels, substantially to handle that matter and to stick thereunto, for I assure you the hope that the King hath to obtain the said plate and jewels is the thing that most stayeth his Grace constantly to assent that ye should marry his sister, the lack whereof I fear me might make him cold and remiss and cause some alteration, whereof all men here except his Grace and myself would be right glad. Howbeit I shall for my part always put to my hand both in word and deed to bring your desire to good effect to the uttermost of my mind and powers. And because the thing toucheth so greatly the [accomplishing] of your intended pleasure, me thinketh I can no less do than to advertise you of the same. Trusting that you will endeavour yourself for the satisfaction of the King's mind in this behalf, whereof I shall be as joyous as any man living. And I send unto you herein closed the copy of the letter the King has written at this time with his own hand to the French King, and by no manner persuasion or means I could induce his Grace to write other wise therein for this reason, for his Grace thinketh that if he should make plain answer at the first instance of the French King, he would think that his Grace was agreed to the said marriage afore your coming hither and [acquaint thereto], and that the French King might think that ye had not been plain with him. Further more as touching the French King's desire for the meeting and interview between the King's Grace and him, ye may show unto him that the King's Highness is of semblable affection and desirous to have the same come shortly to pass."[414] The letter is sharper in tone than the former ones and goes plainly and roundly to the matter. It suggests that Suffolk had made little progress in his initial commission, though he had already written that the Queen was to be liberally treated, and, in fact, had Doctor West instead of the Duke of Suffolk been the correspondent, Wolsey probably would have told him "not to muse so much on the moon but go straightly and wisely to the matter," and "not to be moved by every wind and frivolous report." But apart from this slight asperity of the one-eyed to the blind, the letter is hardly one to have moved Suffolk to confession. The Duke had not wit enough to carry through a plot; he was a plain man, and, like such, lived from day to day with no clear course before him, and could not bend circumstance to his plans. "Every wind and frivolous report" were wrought into the fabric of his days without selection, for he had never cultivated the mental clearness of conception and vision which gives poise to projected plans and desires. His political life had always been covered by Wolsey's shadow, and when, about the beginning of March, Mary told him she feared she was with child, Suffolk could think of nothing better to do than to write to the Archbishop and confess all, and in the face of the difficulties of Wolsey's last letter it was the best course. "My lord of York, I re[commend] me unto you, and so it [is that I know] well that you have been the chief man [before al]l that has been the helper of me to that I am [now] next God and my master, and therefore I will never hide none thing from you, trusting that you will help me now as you have always done. My lord, so it is that when I came to Paris, I heard many things which put me in great fear, and so did the Queen both. And the Queen would never let me be in rest till I had granted her to be married. And so, to be plain with you, I have married her heartily" and have lyen with her, in so much that I fear me lest she be with child. My lord, I am not in a little sorrow lest the King should know it, and that his Grace should be displeased with me, for I assure you that I had rather have died than he should be miscontent. And therefore, my own good lord, since you have brought me hitherto let me not be undone now, the which I fear me I shall be, without the special help of you. My lord, think not that ever you shall make any that shall be more [forwa]rd to you, and therefore, mine own good lord, give me help. My lord, as methinks th[ere is no] remedy in this matter but that I m[ay obtain] another letter from the French K[ing, and a let]ter from the French Queen, and a [letter from the King's] mother to the King my [sovereign lord], desiring his Grace that the ... her by them, the which should be m[ade known] to all France, and that his Grace should thereby perceive that they would be glad to see it [done] most honourably that could be, and m[ight now] specially because all the noblemen of France be here. My lord, I doubt not b[ut that] they will write this for me or how ye shall think best they should write.... For I beseech you to instruct me in all haste possible. My lord, they marry as well in Lent as out of Lent with licence of any bishop. Now, my lord, you know all, and in you is all my trust, beseeching you of your assured help, and that I may have answer from you of this or all my other writings as shortly as it may be possible, for I ensure you I have as heavy a heart as any man living, and shall have till I may hear good tidings from you." In a much mutilated postscript he says he had written to the King saying nothing to him of this matter, for "I would not for all the good in the world he should know of it but as you shall think best."[415] The same evening he wrote again to Wolsey with a certain reserve, for his cousin, Sir Richard Wingfield, addressed the letter: "My lord, for to induce the Queen's matter and mine unto the King's grace, I think best for your first entry you should deliver unto him a diamond with a great pearl, which you shall receive with this from the Queen, his sister, and require him to take it worth, assuring his Grace that whensoever she shall have the possession of the residue, that he shall have the choice of them according unto her former writing. My lord, she and I remit this matter wholly to your discretion, trusting that in all haste possible we shall hear from you some good tidings touching our affairs, wherewith I require you to despatch this bearer and that he tarry for no other cause."[416] Next day Mary wrote to her brother a non-committal little letter: "My most kind and loving brother, I humbly commend me unto your Grace, thanking you entirely of your comfortable letters, beseeching your Grace most humbly now so to continue toward me and my friends, as our special trust is in your Grace, and that it may like you with all convenient diligence to send for me that I may shortly see your Grace, which is the thing that I most desire in the world, and I and all mine is at your Grace's commandment and pleasure.
By your loving sister, Mary."[417]
Now came a fortnight's painful waiting "in this town of Paris," which Suffolk said irritably "is like a stinking prison,"[418] and finding inaction under suspense unbearable, the Duke set his plan in action for the publishing of the marriage to all France without waiting for Wolsey's reply. First he told Francis. Robert de la Marck, a contemporary chronicler, gives an account of his interview with Francis. The King sent for the Duke of Suffolk, and thus addressed him: "I am advertised of this thing: I did not think you had been so base, and if I chose to do my duty I should this very hour take your head from off your shoulders, for you have failed of your faith, and trusting to your faith I have not had watch kept over you. You have secretly, without my knowledge, married Queen Mary. "Whereunto the said Duke of Suffolk, being much afraid and in great terror, answered and said, "Sir, may it please you to pardon me. I confess I have done ill, but, Sir, I implore you to consider the love which made me so do. I throw myself entirely on your compassion, praying you to have mercy upon me." Whereon the King told him that he would not have mercy on him, but would keep him fast till he should have advertised the King of England thereof; and if it pleased him then he too would be content."[419] On March 12 Louise de Savoie wrote to Henry, asking him to allow the Duke of Suffolk's marriage to take effect and assuring him of Suffolk's devotion to his service,[420] and Francis may have also written, though the only letter to be found belongs to the beginning of April [dated March in the Calendar of State Papers]. If he did not at this moment, it is probably to be accounted for by the fact that within a few days he discovered that the jewel which the crown most prized, the Mirror of Naples, had been sent to England. Queen Claude asked for it as belonging of right to the queens of France, and it was not forthcoming.[421] Francis was furious, and Suffolk had to write to Wolsey in all haste for its immediate return, "for it is the same that is said should never go from the queens of France."[422] He took occasion again to urge an open marriage in France, "my lord at the reverence of God help that I be married as I go out of France openly for many things which I will avert you in my next letters,"[423] and asks his advice whether the King and the King's mother should write again "for this open marriage, seeing that this privy marriage is done and that I think none other wise than that she is with child."[424] If Francis was sulking both about the way he had been deceived in the secret marriage and about the loss of the jewel, then no wonder Paris was as a stinking prison to Suffolk.
CARDINAL WOLSEY
PAINTER UNKNOWN. NATIONAL PORTRAIT GALLERY
No doubt the Duke expected a reprimand, and a sharp one, and the question, whether Wolsey would tell the King or conceal the first and suggest a second marriage, must have been often discussed with Mary, but when the reply to his letter of March 5 was received, he suddenly saw plainly that he had mistaken both Henry and Wolsey, and he felt that not only his world was tottering about his ears, but his very life was for the moment in danger. "My lord," wrote Wolsey, "with sorrowful heart I write unto you signifying unto the same that I have to my no little discomfort and inward heaviness perceived by your letters, dated at Paris the 5th day of this instant month, how that you be secretly married unto the King's sister and has accompanied together as man and wife. And albeit you by your said letters desired me in no wise to disclose the same to the King's Grace, yet seeing the same toucheth not only his honour, your promise made to his Grace, and also my truth towards the same, I could no less do, but incontinent upon the sight of your said letters declare and shew the contents therof to his Highness, which at the first hearing could scantly believe the same to be true. But after that I had showed to his Grace, that by your own writing I had knowledge thereof, his Grace giving credence thereunto took the same grievously and displeasantly, not only for that you durst presume to marry his sister without his knowledge, but also for the breaking of your promise made to his Grace in his hand, I being present at Eltham. Having also such assured affiance in your truth that for all the world, and to have been torn with wild horses, you would not have broken your oath, promise and assurance made to his Grace. Which he doth well perceive that he is deceived of the constant and assured trust that he thought to have found in you. And for my part no man can be more sorry than I am that you have so done. And so his Grace would that I should expressly write unto you, being so incholered therewith that I cannot devise nor study for the remedy thereof considering that you have failed to him which hath brought you up of low degree to be of this great honour, and that you were the man in all the world he loved and trusted best, and was content that with good order and saving his honour you should have in marriage his said sister. Cursed be the blind affection and counsel that hath brought ye hereunto, fearing that such sudden and unavised dealing shall have sudden repentance!
"Nevertheless, in this great perplexity I see no other remedy but first to move your humble pursuits by your own writing, causing also the French King and the Queen and other your friends to write, with this also that shall follow—which I assure you I write unto you of my own head without knowledge of any person living, being in great doubt whether the same shall make your peace or no—notwithstanding if any remedy be it shall be by that way. It shall be well done that with all diligence possible you and the Queen bind yourselves by obligation to pay yearly to the King during the Queen's life £4000 of her dower, and so you and she shall have remaining of the said dower £6000 and above to live withal yearly. Over and besides this you must bind yourselves to give unto the King the plate of gold and jewels which the late French King had. And whereas the Queen shall have full restitution of her dot, you shall not only give entirely the said dot to the King, but also cause the French King to be bound to pay to the King the 200,000 crowns which his Grace is bound to pay to the Queen, in full contentation of the said dot, de novissimis denariis, and the said French King to acquit the King for the payment thereof, like as the King hath more at large declared his pleasure to you by his letters sent unto you. This is the way to make your peace, whereat if you deeply consider what danger you be and shall be in, having the King's displeasure, I doubt not both the Queen and you will not stick, but with all effectual diligence endeavour yourselves to recover the King's favour as well by this means as by other substantial true ways which by mine advice you shall use and none other towards his Grace, whom by colorable drifts and ways you cannot abuse. Now I have told you mine opinion hardily. Follow the same and trust not too much to your own wit, nor follow not the counsel of them that hath not more deeply considered the dangers of this matter than they have hitherto done.
"And as touching the overtures made by the French King for Tournay, and also for a new confederation with the King and him like as I have lately written unto you, I would not advise you to wade any further in these matters, for it be thought that the French King intendeth to make his hand by favouring you in the attaining to the said marriage. Which when he shall perceive that by your means he cannot get such things as he desireth, peradventure he shall show some change and alteration in the Queen's affairs whereof great inconvenience might ensue. Look wisely therefore upon the same, and consider you have enough to do in redressing your own causes, and think it shall be hard to induce the King to give you a commission of trust which hath so lightly regarded the same towards his Grace.
"Thus I have as a friend declared my mind unto you, and never trust to use me nor have me in anything contrary to truth, my master's honours, profits, wealth and surety, to the advancement and furtherance whereof no creature living is more bounden, as our Lord knoweth who send your Grace to look well and deeply upon your acts and doings, for you put yourself in the greatest danger that ever man was."[425]
It was a masterly letter and put Suffolk out of conceit with his own wits and Mary with her counsel, and joined them in one desire to make plain the utter intolerableness of their situation to Henry. Wolsey warned them to be truthful and frank, for one part of the secret of his influence with the King's suspicious nature was his own love for plain dealing. So they wrote. Mary—bringing in the incident of the Friars' report to her as though it had recently happened, though from earlier letters of Suffolk's they were in hand with her before the arrival of the embassy—took all the blame on her shoulders and was ready to face the consequences. The best of her shows in admirable light in the following letter:—"Please it your Grace, to the greatest discomfort, sorrow and disconsolation but lately I have been advertised of the great and high displeasure which your highness beareth unto me and my lord of Suffolk for the marriage between us. Sir, I will not in anywise deny but that I have offended your Grace, for the which I do put myself most humbly in your clemency and mercy. Nevertheless to the intent that your highness should not think that I had simply, carnally or of any sensual appetite done the same, I having no re[gar]d to fall in your Grace's displeasure, I assure your Grace that I had never done [without your] ordinance and consent, but by the r[eason of the grea]t despair w[herein I was put] by the two fr[iars ...], which hath certified me in case I come [to] En[gland], your Council would never consent to the marriage between the said lord and me, with [ma]ny other sayings concerni[ng] the same promise, so that I verily [thought] that the said friar[s] would never have offered to have made me like over[ture] unless they might have had charge from some of your Council, the which put me in such consternation, fear and doubt of the obtaining of the thing which I desired most in this world, that I rather chose to put me in your mercy [by] accomplishing the marriage, than to put me in the order of your Council [knowing th]em to be otherways minded. Whereupon, Sir, I put [my lord of Su]ffolk in choice w[hether he woul]d accomplish th[e marriag]e within f[our days or else that he should never have] enjoyed me. Whereby I know well that I constrained him to break such promises as he made your Grace, as well for fear of losing me as also that I ascertained him that by their consent I would never come in to England. And now that your Grace knoweth the both offences of the which I have been the only occasion, I most humbly and as your most [sorrow]ful sister requiring you to have compassion upon us both and to pardon our offences, and that it will please your Grace to write to me and to my lord of Suffolk some [comfort]able words, for it sh[all be] greatest comfort for u[s both]. By your loving and most humble sister,
Mary."[426]
Then she wrote to Wolsey: "My very good lord, in most hearty manner I commend me unto you, letting you the same to understand that my lord of Suffolk hath sent me your letters which lately he received by Cooke, by which I perceive the faithful good mind which you do bear unto us both, and how that you be determined not to leave us in our extreme trouble, for the which your most fast and loving dealing I most entirely thank you, requiring you to continue towards us as you have been, which shall never be forgotten in any of our behalfs, but to the uttermost of our power we shall be always ready to shew [you all] faithful kindness [as knowe]th our Lord who [send you long] life. My lord, I require you that I may have me comfortable letters from the King my brother and from you, for I trow there was never woman that had more need. By your loving friend,
Mary, Queen of France."[427] But for all Mary's generosity the onus of the explanation fell on Suffolk, for he was on trial before the Council as well as before the King, and in spite of Wolsey's warning he insisted on attempting to explain the dealings with Francis which had laid him open to their suspicions. "Alas, Sir," he wrote, "as I understand it should be thought that I should incline too much to the French King's mind. Sir, if I ever inclined to him in thought or deed otherwise than might stand with your honour [let] me die for it." And he goes on to give his opinion of how the amity should be brought about. Then he attacks the main question. "Sir, one thing I insure your Grace, that it shall never be said that ever I did offend [you]r Grace in word, deed or thought, but for this [matter] touching the Queen, your sister, the which I can no longer nor will not hide from your Grace." Then he describes as far as he can word for word his interview with Mary on the night of his arrival at Paris, and begs the King to forgive him and defend him against his enemies who will think to put him out of favour. He begs some word of comfort from Henry, "for I promise your Grace that I was never a day whole since I parted from your Grace. And, Sir, at the writing of this I'm not very well."[428] Another letter from Wolsey on his danger from the suspicions of the Council drew a more passionate appeal from him, and it is characteristic that his greatest sorrow is Henry's loss of confidence in him, the fault of his marriage with the Queen is as nothing in his eyes with the breaking of his promise, for that had moved Henry's anger more than the other. Thus he kneels before the King. "[Most dread]est sovereign lord, with the most sorrowful and [heavy] heart I your most poor subject beseech you, most [dear]est lord, of forgiveness of mine offences now made un[to you], and for this said marriage, the which I have [done great]ly amiss. Where[fore], Sir, for the passion of God let it not be in your heart against me, but punish me rather with prison or other wise, as may be your pleasure. Sir, rather than you should have me in mistrust in your [he]art that I should not be true to you as there may be accusing [str]ike off my head and let me not live. Alas, Sir, my lord of York hath written to me two letters that it should be thought that the French King would make [h]is hand with your Grace, and that a would occupy me as [a]n instrument there unto. Alas, Sir, that ever it should be thought or said that I should be so, for, Sir, your Grace not offended, I will make good against all the world to die for it, that ever I thought any such thing or did thing, saving the love and [ma]rriage of the Queen, that should be to your displeasure, I pray God let me die as shameful a death as ever did man. Alas, that I ever did this, for afore this done I might have said that there was never man that had such a loving and kind master, nor there was never master that ever had a truer servant than your Grace has had of me, and ever shall have, whatsoever your Grace shall think of me, or any man else. And thus I make an end with the most sorrowful heart that ever had man, and not without cause, seeing mine unhap to use myself so [ill unto] so noble and gracious a master, whose favour [for long time] I had so sure and so largely that and I had been master of ten realms I should never have deserved, as k[nows God, who] send your Grace long life with much h[onour and your heart's] desire."[429]
Surely this was penitent enough, but the offering of a merely contrite heart was not enough for Henry: it had to be gilded.
