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]