The drafts above alluded to consisted of two letters, one addressed to the Pope, the other to the Queen of Hungary. The contents were practically a repetition of the declarations which Cromwell drew up for Mary to transcribe six months before. The expressions used were of course less abject than those which purported to be addressed by her to her father, but the renunciation was the same. The conclusion of the letter addressed to the Pope was to the effect that he should no longer trouble himself with the affairs of England, since the King had really and truly the right on his side, and reasons of his own to act as he did. Of her own free consent, she had renounced the succession, and begged that neither in the future Council nor out of it, the subject might be mentioned, or anything done contrary to the wishes of the King of England, or for the sake of the King of Portugal, because such was her resolution, and she was much pleased with it.
Chapuys, we have seen, was quite convinced that nothing remained for Mary but to sign the drafts. Her justification would, as before, be the compulsion exercised, and her written protests would, he considered, be sufficient proof that she had not been a free agent. Nevertheless, he was anxious that the Pope should be told of the thraldom in which she had signed, and should declare her guiltless of all participation in the sin. His anxiety was probably the reflex of her own, and his personal regard for her made him wish to soothe, as far as he was able, her much-tried conscience. Since she had acted by his advice in the tangled skein of diplomacy in which she was caught, his chivalry and affection prompted him to obtain for her all the relief he could. He wrote to the Emperor on the subject, and Charles referred the matter to his ambassador in Rome. Cifuentes had no personal acquaintance with Mary, and viewed the subject in the mere light of politics. He told the Emperor in a ciphered despatch, that it would be useless, and even dangerous to apply for a papal brief, absolving the Princess from her oath, as, in his opinion, the imperial ambassador in England had not shown sufficient cause why the publication of the Princess’s justification to the world should be delayed; for should his Holiness come to know what the Princess had done, the French would sooner or later hear of it; and, if so, the King of England be immediately informed of the fact, and therefore the danger to her life would be increased twofold. The above were the reasons which he (Cifuentes) had for not applying for a delay; but since Chapuys still insisted upon it, after mature deliberation the following expedient had been thought of: The Pope should be petitioned for a vivæ voces oraculo in genere, tacitly including Mary, and empowering all confessors to absolve those who might have fallen into these “new English errors”. “In that class the Princess would necessarily be comprised, and therefore any public justification on her own part might be delayed for some time.” Cifuentes goes on to say that Chapuys should remit the whole matter to him, surrounded as he is by those whom he can trust, and who cannot fail to help him by their wisdom and learning. If he should then find just and honest causes why the Princess should be absolved by her confessor, well and good. In this way, his Holiness would be entirely ignorant of the precise and particular object for which his verbal declaration was needed.[212]
Mary signed the letters, and the Pope apparently gave the dispensation asked for, without knowing who was especially to be benefited by it, and we hear no more of the matter.
In the midst of these wretched diplomatic transactions occurs the first note of joy that has greeted Mary for years, more completely reconciling her to her father than all the horrible concessions wrung from her by threats and entreaties. The Queen gave promise of an heir, and Mary was sent for to the court. The following curious extract from a contemporary document describes the meeting between her and the King and Queen. It is, unfortunately, undated, but bears intrinsic evidence that it refers to the spring of 1537:—
“Thus the good Lady Mary’s grace lived a long time in disgrace of the King her father, in hard imprisonment, and danger of her life, till at the lenght, Ann Bullen being dead, and the King maried againe unto Queen Jane, Edward’s mother by whose meanes she came againe in favour with the King—as thus: Upon a time as the King and the Queene were together, she being great with child with King Edward, the King said unto her—Why, darling, how happeneth it you are no merier. She wisely answered, Now it hath pleased your grace to make me your wife, there are none but my inferiors to make mery withall, your grace excepted, unlesse it would please you that wee might enjoye the company of the Lady Marie’s grace at the Court; I could be mery with her. We will have her here, darling, if she will make the merry. So presently the King commanded all her women to be put to her againe, and all in rich array with his daughter, the Lady Mary, in most gorgeous apparel, to come the next day unto the Court, all apparelled at the King’s charge. The King and the Queene standing in the chamber of presence by the fier. This worthy lady entered with all her train. So soon as she came within the chamber doore, she made lowe curtsey unto him; in the midst of the chamber she did so againe, and when she came to him, she made them both lowe cursey, and falling on her knees asked his blessing, who after he had given her his blessing, took her up by the hand, and kist her, and the Queen also, both bidding her welcome. Then the King turning him to the Lords there in presence, said—Some of you weare desirous that I should put this jewell to death. That had been great pittie, quoth the Queene, to have lost your chefest jewell of England.... But Mary, knowing that when her father flattered, most mischief was like to ensue, her coler going and coming, at last in a swoone fell down amongst them. With that the King being greatly perplexed, what for the fear of his daughter, and the frighting of his wife that was then great with child, sought all meanes possible to recover her, and being come to herself, bid her be a good comfort, for nothing should goe against her, and after perfect recovery, took her by the hand, and walked up and down with her. Then commandment was made that she should be called Lady Princess, and the other Lady Elizabeth. Why, governor, quoth the Lady Elizabeth, being but a child, how happs it yesterday, Lady Princess and to-day but Lady Elizabeth? Here was a haughtie stomach betimes.”[213]
The account is inaccurate in two points. Henry never gave in on the question of Mary’s title. Princess in those days meant heiress to the Crown, and he would have been less likely than ever to give it back to his daughter, when the passionately longed-for son might shortly be granted to him. Moreover, Elizabeth had been deprived of the title by act of Parliament months before, and would not have remained in ignorance of the fact till Mary’s return to court, as it had nothing whatever to do with her sister, in the actual state of affairs, but with the declared nullity of Anne Boleyn’s marriage.
On the 23rd May, arrived Hurtado de Mendoza, special envoy from Charles V., to confer with Chapuys, and learn from him his latest news of the King’s will, regarding the Portuguese match. He remained in England for more than a year, and during that time, the wearisome negotiations went on, with the utmost insistence as to detail, while Henry was probably determined from the outset that they should come to nothing. He declared bluntly his refusal to legitimatise Mary, but held out hopes that she would be heiress to the throne, should he die without legitimate issue. When the Emperor had first suggested the marriage, the King of Portugal was disinclined to it, saying that no confidence could be placed in Henry, but Charles had set his mind upon it, and wrote to his ambassador in England, that if it appeared that the Princess would be forced into some other union (he feared with Cromwell) they were to see whether it would be possible to carry her out of the country. Henry told Gardiner to answer any inquiries about the Lady Mary’s marriage with Don Loys, that it was “neither agreed upon nor in any towardness”. Further, in his instructions to Sir Thomas Wyatt, whom he was sending as envoy to Charles, he told him that if the Emperor marvelled, that there was no furtherance in the matter, he should reply that Mendoza brought no commission for it, and came so slenderly despatched that the default is not since supplied, and thinks the matter scarcely in earnest.[214]
All these excuses were made to gain time. If a prince were born and lived, there would be less danger in sending Mary abroad, but among so many aspirants to her hand, Henry was resolved only to part with her to the highest bidder, if, indeed, he parted with her at all. The match with the Duke of Orleans was perhaps the most to his liking, but Francis demanded that she should be declared legitimate, and that was the only thing Henry was quite resolved not to do. If he had no son, all foreign princes would agree, in spite of him, in looking upon her as his rightful heir, and in view of such a contingency he could not afford to let her go out of the kingdom. His difficulties were so far understood on the continent, as to create a general apprehension that he would marry her to Cromwell.