IV.
The meeting of the Emperor and King of France at Aigues-Mortes in July, 1538, produced a marked change in the political situation. This interview, which the Pope had failed to bring about at Nice, was finally effected by Queen Eleanor, and the two monarchs, who had not met since Francis was a prisoner at Madrid, embraced each other, dined together, and ended by swearing an inviolable friendship. The truce was converted into a lasting peace, and several marriages between the two families were discussed in a friendly and informal manner.
"Never," wrote the Constable to Castillon, "were there two faster friends than the King and Emperor, and I do not for a moment imagine that His Imperial Majesty will ever allow the Widow of Milan to marry King Henry! So do not believe a single word that you hear in England!"[203]
Aug., 1538] CROMWELL AND CHAPUYS
This unexpected reconciliation was a bitter pill to Henry and Cromwell. The French and Imperial Ambassadors at Whitehall exchanged the warmest congratulations, and did not fail to indulge in a hearty laugh at King Henry's expense. On the 21st of August Chapuys and Don Diego followed the Court to Ampthill, where the King was hunting, and were entertained by Cromwell at one of his own manors. As they sat down to dinner, the Lord Privy Seal asked brusquely if it were true that the King and Emperor had made peace, to which the Ambassadors replied in the affirmative. He then proceeded to start a variety of disagreeable topics. First he remarked that he heard the Turk was already in Belgrade; next he said that the young Duke of Cleves had taken possession of Guelderland, upon which Chapuys retaliated by expatiating on the perfect friendship and understanding between Charles and Francis. After dinner they were admitted into the King's presence, and informed him that the Queen of Hungary had received the powers necessary for the conclusion of the Duchess's marriage, and wished to recall Don Diego in order that he might draw up the contract. Henry expressed great sorrow at parting from the Spaniard, and, drawing him apart, begged him to induce the Queen to treat directly with him, repeating two or three times that he was growing old, and could not put off taking a wife any longer. Meanwhile Cromwell was telling Chapuys, in another corner of the hall, how much annoyed the King had been to hear that the Emperor was treating of his niece's marriage with the Duke of Cleves, which would make people say either that she had refused the King or else had only accepted Henry after refusing Cleves. Chapuys stoutly denied the truth of this report, and Cromwell confessed that the King was very eager for the marriage, and, if there were any difficulty about the Duchess's dowry, he would gladly give her 20,000 crowns out of his own purse.[204]
As the Ambassadors were putting on their riding-boots, Cromwell ran after Don Diego with a present from his master of £400, after which they returned to London and dined in Chelsea with Castillon, to meet Madame de Montreuil, the lady-in-waiting of the late Queen Madeleine of Scotland, who was returning to France. They all spent a merry evening, laughing over King Henry's matrimonial plans, and Castillon declared that the King and Lord Privy Seal were so much perturbed at his master's alliance with the Emperor that they hardly knew if they were in heaven or on earth.[205]
Sept., 1538] STEPHEN VAUGHAN
Don Diego arrived in Flanders to find general rejoicings—"gun-shots and melody and jousting were the order of the day"—and an English merchant declared that the proud Spaniards were ready to challenge all the world. Queen Mary marked the occasion by honouring her favourite, Count Henry of Nassau, with a visit at his Castle of Breda in Holland. The beautiful gardens and vast orchards planted in squares, after the fashion of Italy, which excited the Cardinal of Aragon's admiration, were in their summer beauty, and a series of magnificent fêtes were given in honour of the Queen and her companion, the Duchess of Milan. The Count was assisted in doing the honours by his third wife, the Marchioness of Zeneta, a rich Spanish heiress, whom the Emperor had given him in marriage, and his son René, Prince of Orange. The presence of Christina at Breda on this occasion, and the attentions that were paid her by her hosts, naturally gave rise to a report that she was about to wed the Prince, and Cromwell told Don Diego before he left Dover that this rumour had caused the King great annoyance.[206] But the festivities at Breda met with a tragic close. On the day after the royal ladies left the castle, Henry of Nassau died very suddenly, and Don Diego heard the sad news when he reached the castle gates, on his way to salute his kinswoman, the Marchioness.
The Ambassador now hastened to Court, and craved an audience of the Queen to deliver King Henry's letters; but he found her little inclined to attend to business, and engaged in preparations to pay a visit to King Francis, who had gallantly invited her to a hunting-party at Compiègne. At first there had been some doubt if the Duchess should be of the party, but Queen Eleanor was eager to see her niece, and Christina was nothing loth to take part in these brilliant festivities. Meanwhile Henry's renewed impatience to conclude his marriage was shown by the promptitude with which another Ambassador was sent to take Hutton's place.
On the 27th of September the new Envoy, Stephen Vaughan, was admitted into the Queen's presence, and begged for an answer to the letters delivered by Don Diego. Mary told him that he might inform His Majesty that there was no truth in the reports of her niece's marriage, and that, if any coolness had arisen between them, it was the King's own fault for seeking a wife in other places. Hoby's mission to Joinville and Nancy was, it is plain, well known at Brussels. But the Queen kept her counsel, and told Vaughan that, if his master was still in the same mind, she would urge the Emperor to hasten the conclusion of the treaty. Only she must beg the Ambassador to have a little patience, as her time was fully occupied at this moment. But the next day he was again put off, and told the Queen would see him when she reached Mons. Accordingly, Vaughan and his colleague, Thomas Wriothesley, Cromwell's confidential secretary, arrived at this town on the 8th, only to be told by Don Diego that they must await the Queen's pleasure at Valenciennes. The Spanish Ambassador did his best to atone for their disappointment by giving them an excellent dinner, and lending them two of his own horses with velvet saddles and rich trappings for the journey.[207]
Oct., 1538] AT COMPIÈGNE
At length, at eight on Sunday morning, the 6th of October, they were conducted into the Queen's presence by the Grand Falconer, Molembais, and Vaughan, who spoke French fluently, explained Henry's reasons for arranging the marriage treaty without delay. Mary replied briefly that she had already written to accede to the King's request, and that no further steps could be taken until after her meeting with the French King. Dinner was being served while she spoke these words, and, as the meat was actually coming in, the Ambassadors were compelled to retire. Before they left the room, however, they saluted the Duchess, who was standing near her aunt, and ventured to tell her how much my Lord Privy Seal remained her humble servant, although, as she no doubt knew, his overtures had been so coldly received. Christina smiled and thanked them for their good-will with a gentle grace, which went far to mollify their ruffled feelings, and made Wriothesley write home that all Hutton had said of the Duchess's charms was true. "She is as goodly personage, of stature higher than either of us, and hath a very good woman's face, competently fair and well favoured, but a little brown."[208]
As if to make amends for these delays, the great lords in attendance overwhelmed the Ambassadors with civilities. Aerschot invited them to dinner; Count Büren embraced them warmly and asked affectionately after the King; De Praet, Molembais, and Iselstein, escorted them to the door, and Don Diego made them a present of wine. When Wriothesley fell ill of fever at Cambray, the Queen sent her own physician to attend him, and begged him either to remain there or return to Brussels. This he refused to do, and travelled on by slow stages to Compiègne, hoping to obtain another audience there. But the roads were bad, and two leagues from Cambray one of the carts broke down, leaving the English without household stuff or plate when Don Diego came to supper.[209]
On Tuesday news reached Cambray that King Francis was on his way to salute the Queen, and Mary rode out to meet him, leaving the Duchess of Milan at home with others, who like herself, remarks Wriothesley, had no great liking for Frenchmen.[210] But the King's greeting was most cordial, and when, on the following day, Queen Eleanor arrived with a great train of lords and ladies, there was much feasting and merriment, until on the 10th the whole party started for Compiègne.
It was a brilliant company that met in the ancient castle of the French Kings, in the forest on the banks of the Oise, near the bridge where, a hundred years before, Jeanne d'Arc had made her last heroic stand. King Francis had summoned all the Princes and Princesses of the blood to do honour to the Queen of Hungary, and the neighbouring villages were filled to overflowing with Court officials and servants. There was the King himself, a fine figure in cloth of gold and nodding plumes, gallant as ever in spite of ill-health and advancing years, with a glance and smile to spare for every fair lady; and there was his consort, Queen Eleanor, too often neglected by her fickle lord, but now radiant with happiness, and in her beautiful robes and priceless pearls, as winning and almost as fair as when she fascinated the young Palatine twenty years ago. The sense of family affection was as strong in Eleanor as in all the Habsburgs, and she was overjoyed to meet her sister and embrace the daughter of the beloved and lamented Isabella. With her came the King's daughter Margaret, the homely-featured but pleasing and accomplished Princess for whom a royal husband was still to be found, and who, the courtiers whispered, might now wed the Prince of Spain.
Oct., 1538] A BRILLIANT COMPANY
Her brothers were there too—the dull and morose Henry, who had succeeded his elder brother as Dauphin two years before, but had never recovered from the effects of his long captivity in Spain; and the more lively but weak and vicious Charles of Angoulême, now Duke of Orleans, whom Eleanor was so anxious to see married to the Duchess of Milan. With them was the Dauphin's Italian wife, Catherine de' Medici, whose wit and grace atoned in her father-in-law's eyes for her lack of beauty, although her husband's heart was given to Diane de Poitiers, and a childless marriage made her unpopular in the eyes of the nation. But a galaxy of fair ladies surrounded the King and Queen. Chief among them was Madame d'Étampes, whose dazzling charms had captivated the fickle King, and who now reigned supreme both in Court and Council. Of the youthful ladies whose charms had aroused King Henry's interest, only Mademoiselle de Vendôme was here. The fair Louise had not yet recovered from her illness, and the Duchess of Guise was nursing her at Joinville. But both her father, Claude of Guise, the Governor of Burgundy, and his brother, the Cardinal of Lorraine, were present, and held a high place in the King's favour. Claude's elder brother, the Duke of Lorraine, had lately been to meet the Emperor at Aigues-Mortes and plead his claims to Guelders, but on his return he fell ill with a severe attack of gout, and was unable to obey the King's summons. In his stead he sent Duchess Renée his wife, another Bourbon Princess, a daughter of Gilbert de Montpensier and sister of the famous Constable. Her daughter Anne remained at home to nurse the Duke, but her eldest son, Francis, came with his mother to Compiègne. This cultured and polished Prince, who bore the King's name, had been brought up at the French Court, and could ride and joust as well as any of his peers; but he was quite thrown into the shade by his cousin, Antoine de Bourbon, Duke of Vendôme, the darling of the people and the idol of all the ladies. A head and shoulders taller than the Dauphin and his brother, Antoine was the cynosure of all eyes at Court festivals. The elegance of his attire, the inimitable grace with which he raised his hat, his wit and gaiety, fascinated every woman, while the gilded youth of the day copied the fashion of his clothes and the precise angle at which he wore the feather in his cap. Frivolous, volatile, and recklessly extravagant, Vendôme wore his heart on his sleeve, and was ready to enter the lists for the sake of any fair lady. He fell desperately in love with the Duchess of Milan at first sight, and devoted himself to her service. As premier Prince of the blood, he rode at Christina's side, and led her out to dance in the eyes of the Court. Together they joined in the hunting-parties that were organized on a vast scale in the Forest of Compiègne, and while all the French were lost in admiration at the fine horsemanship of the royal ladies, Antoine de Bourbon threw himself at the Duchess's feet, and declared himself her slave for life. But whether this gay cavalier was too wild and thoughtless for her taste, or whether her heart was already given to another, Christina paid little heed to this new suitor, and remained cold to his impassioned appeals. "The Duke of Vendôme," wrote Wriothesley to Cromwell, "is a great wooer to the Duchess, but we cannot hear that he receiveth much comfort."[211]
Oct., 1538] A VISIT TO CHANTILLY
On the 17th of October the Constable de Montmorency prevailed on the royal party to accompany him to his sumptuous home at Chantilly, nine leagues farther on the road to Paris. This brave soldier and able Minister had grown up in the closest intimacy with the Royal Family, and was habitually addressed as "bon père" by the King's children, but had, unfortunately, excited the hatred of the reigning favourite, the Duchess of Étampes, who called him openly "un grand coquin," and declared that he tried to make himself a second monarch. On the other hand, his constant loyalty to Queen Eleanor gratified Mary of Hungary, who now gladly accepted his invitation to Chantilly.
Anne de Montmorency was as great a patron of art as his royal master, and during the last fifteen years he had transformed his ancestral home into a superb Renaissance palace. The halls were decorated with frescoes by Primaticcio; the gardens were adorned with precious marbles and bronzes, with busts of the Cæsars and statues of Mars and Hercules, with fountains of the finest Urbino and Palissy ware. Portraits by Clouet, priceless manuscripts illuminated by French and Burgundian masters, and enamels by Léonard Limousin, were to be seen in the galleries. But what interested Mary and Christina most of all were the tapestries woven at Brussels from Raphael of Urbino's cartoons, which the Constable had rescued after the sack of Rome, and which he restored some years later to Pope Julius III.[212]
After entertaining his guests magnificently during two days, the Constable accompanied them on a hunting-party in the forest, and finally brought them back to Compiègne on the 19th of October. Here the Queen of Hungary's return was impatiently awaited by the English Ambassadors, who found themselves in a miserable plight. The town was so crowded that they had to be content with the meanest lodgings; the hire of post-horses cost forty pounds, and provisions were so scarce that a partridge or woodcock sold for tenpence, and an orange for more than a groat. The King's Ambassadors at the French Court—Sir Anthony Browne, and Bonner, the Bishop-elect of Hereford—who joined them at Compiègne on the 14th, were in still worse case; for they could get no horses for love or money, and spent six days without receiving a visit from the Court officials. These outraged personages stood at the window, and saw the French Councillors, and even the Constable, go by, without giving them the smallest sign of recognition. At least, Vaughan and Wriothesley were treated with the utmost civility by the Flemish nobles, and their audience was only deferred on account of the Queen's visit to Chantilly. Don Diego was courtesy itself, and, before he started for Spain, wrote a letter to Cromwell, assuring him that Queen Mary was the truest friend and sister his master could have, but that it had been impossible for her to attend to business when her days were spent in festivities and family meetings.[213] At length, on Sunday, the 20th, the Ambassadors were received by the Queen, and introduced Browne and Bonner, as well as Dr. Edward Carne, a learned lawyer whom Henry had sent to assist in drawing up the marriage treaty. Mary informed them that Francis was bent on taking her to the Duke of Vendôme's house at La Fère on the way home, but begged Wriothesley, who was still unwell, to go straight to Brussels. The next day Browne started for England, saying that it was impossible to follow a King who "goes out of all highways," and on the 22nd Wriothesley and his companions set out on their return to Brussels.[214]
Oct., 1538] MARRIAGE-MAKING