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]

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]

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