“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”.