Seeing that she was liable to make mistakes, if guided by her own inexperience, Mary was anxious in future to do nothing without Chapuys’ advice, as the following letter from the ambassador shows:—
“The Princess, understanding of late that the King intended she should remove, and accompany the Bastard, sent to me three times in less than twenty-four hours to know what to do. I wrote back to her each time, resolving her scruples, that even if she did obey the King without opposition or protestation, all that the King desired in this respect could do no prejudice to the protestations already made. Nevertheless, I thought that to prevent her father and his lady imagining she was worn out, and conquered by ill-treatment, she should speak boldly, and with her accustomed modesty, but not go to the extremity of allowing herself to be taken by force, as on the former occasion. I wrote to her at full length what she ought to say; not that it was necessary, considering her good sense, but because she desired me. She played her part so well, that the Comptroller promised her she should not go after the other. Nevertheless, on her coming to the first door of the lodging, there was the litter of the Bastard, and the Princess was compelled to go out after her, the Comptroller allowing her, as soon as she was mounted, to go before or after, as she pleased; on which account, she suddenly pushed forward, and arrived at Greenwich about an hour before the Bastard. When she came to enter the barge, she took care to secure the most honourable place. I had intimated to her that I would go to Greenwich to see her pass; and she sent to beg me to do so, as earnestly as she could. I was there accordingly in disguise, and it was a great pleasure to see such excellent beauty, accompanied by heroic bearing, which all the more increased the pity to see her so treated.”[127]
A little later Chapuys, continuing his narrative, says:—
“Although Cromwell assured me of the goodwill the King bore the Princess, I should scarcely have believed it, but for some other things, which make it probable. For the King has commanded that she shall be well treated; and on Wednesday, before leaving the More, she was visited by nearly all the gentlemen and ladies of the court, to the Lady’s great annoyance. On Thursday, the day before yesterday, being at Richmond with the little lass, the Lady came to see her said daughter, accompanied by the dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk and others, including some of the ladies, which was a novelty; and she refused to leave her chamber till the Lady was gone, that she might not see her. The first time that the said Princess accompanied the said little one, she was placed in a litter covered with leather; but on leaving the More, she had one of velvet like the other, in which she came to Richmond; and being there, both to avoid following the litter of the other, and because she was pleased to see me in passing, she let the little one go by land, and came herself by water. In the evening, she arranged with the bargemen to row her along the bank where she pleased, and immediately gave notice to me, that I would not fail to be at a certain house, which I keep in the fields by the river, between Greenwich and this town, to inhabit in time of plague, for she wished to see me, and requite my going to see her at Greenwich, when she passed. She accordingly persuaded the steersman, instead of going by one side of the river, to take the other, and from the time she came near enough to see me, she caused the barge to be uncovered, and went on deck in the most conspicuous place, and passed quite near where I was, never moving from the place she had taken up to look at me, until she had lost sight of me. She is, thank God, in very good health and en bon point, and appears to be happy and very cheerful. I notified to her before she left the More, that as the King’s severity was abating, she must take care not to give him any cause of offence, and as the protestation I had counselled her to make preserved her from all danger, she ought to make no difficulty about following the Bastard, but should declare that she was very glad in this to satisfy the King her father, and from that proceeded the visit paid to her at Richmond,[128] of which I have written above, and the licence to come by water without accompanying the other.”[129]
Early in 1535, Mary fell ill, and Henry in a moment of relenting, not only allowed her mother’s physician and apothecary to attend her, but sent his own physician, Dr. Buttes. The only stipulations made were that they must see her in the presence of witnesses, speak in no language but English, and pay their respects on their arrival to Elizabeth, before being conducted to Mary. The latter part of the order could not, however, be carried out, as it arrived too late.[130] Katharine eagerly seized the opportunity of Henry’s sudden kindness to entreat that her daughter might be sent to her, a petition that was answered with the singular concession, that the King would send her to a house near her mother, provided that the two did not meet. Her letter to Cromwell, in acknowledging his services in the negotiation, such as they were, is as pathetic as it is dignified.
“My good friend,” wrote Katharine, “you have laid me under great obligation by the trouble you have taken in speaking to the King, my lord, about the coming of my daughter to me. I hope God will reward you, as you know it is out of my power to give you anything but my goodwill. As to the answer given you, that the King is content to take her to some house near me, provided I do not see her, I beg you will give him my hearty thanks for the good he does to his daughter and mine, and for the peace of mind he has given me. You may assure him, that if she were but a mile from me I would not see her, because the time does not permit me to go visiting, and if I wished it, I have not the means. But you may tell his Majesty, it was my wish that he should send her where I am, as the comfort and cheerfulness she would have with me would be half her cure. I have found this by experience, being ill of the same sickness, and as my request was so reasonable, and touched so greatly the honour and conscience of the King, I did not think it would be denied me. Do not forbear, I beseech you, and do what you can that it may be so. I have heard that he had some suspicion of her security—a thing so unreasonable that I cannot believe it entered into his heart, nor do I think he has so little confidence in me. If such a thing be assumed, I beg you to tell his Majesty, it is my fixed determination to die in this kingdom; and I offer my person as security that if such a thing be attempted, he may do justice upon me as the most traitorous woman that ever was born.”[131]
Katharine made another attempt to get possession of her daughter; and the letter which she wrote to Chapuys with that object is very touching in its tender, maternal anxiety:—
“My physician has informed me partly of my daughter’s illness, giving me hope of her improved health; but as I know her infirmity lasts so long, and I see he is slow to visit her (although for some days he could not, as I was so ill myself), I have great suspicion as to the cause. So because it appears to me that what I ask is just, and for the service of God, I beg you will speak to his Highness, and desire him, on my behalf, to do such a charity as to send his daughter and mine where I am; because treating her with my own hands, and by the advice both of other physicians and of my own, if God pleases to take her from this world, my heart will rest satisfied; otherwise, in great pain. You shall also say to his Highness that there is no need of any other person but myself to nurse her; that I will put her in my own bed where I sleep, and will watch her when needful. I have recourse to you, knowing that there is no one in this kingdom who dare say to the King my lord, that which I desire you to say; and I pray God reward you for the diligence that you will make.”[132]
Immediately after receiving this letter, Chapuys asked Cromwell to arrange an interview with the King, which was assigned for the next morning. When he had read the letter aloud to Henry, the ambassador supported it by all the arguments he could think of, and instead of replying, as usual, that he knew better than any one else how to provide for his daughter, Henry answered gently that he wished to do his utmost for her health, but that he must not forget what was due to his own honour, which would be injured if she were taken out of the kingdom, or if she herself escaped, as she might easily do, by night, if she were with her mother, for he had begun to suspect the Emperor of designs for getting her away.
Chapuys craftily allayed this suspicion, but Henry went on to say that there was no great occasion to confide Mary again to her mother’s hands, for it was Katharine who had put it into her head to show such obstinacy and disobedience, as all the world knew; and although sons and daughters were bound to show some obedience towards their mothers, their chief duty was to their fathers, and since the Princess could not have much help from the Queen, and it was clear the whole matter proceeded from her, Mary must submit to his pleasure. Chapuys then asked that she might, at least, have her old governess, Lady Salisbury, whom she regarded as her second mother. But Henry declared that she was a fool, of no experience, and that if his daughter had been under her care, she would have died, for Lady Salisbury would not have known what to do, whereas her present governess was an expert lady. All the physicians were apparently agreed, that Mary’s illness was caused by distress and sorrow, and that if the Princess were placed where she might enjoy a modicum of brightness and pleasure, and might be allowed to take exercise, her cure would be effected.