The Divorce of Catherine of Aragon / The Story as Told by the Imperial Ambassadors Resident at the Court of Henry VIII

by James Anthony Froude

Henry himself passed by as Cromwell was speaking to Chapuys. He bowed, took off his cap, and motioned to the Ambassador to replace his own. He then inquired after his health, asked how the Emperor was, how things were going in Italy—in short, was particularly courteous.

Service followed in the chapel. Rochford conducted Chapuys thither, and, as his sister was to be present and an encounter could not be avoided, people were curious to see how she and the Ambassador would behave to each other. Anne was “affable” enough, and curtseyed low as she swept past.

After mass the King and several members of the Council dined in Anne’s apartments. As it was presumed that Chapuys would not desire to form one of the party, he was entertained by the household. Anne asked why he had not been invited. The King said there was reason for it.

Dinner over, Henry led Chapuys into his private cabinet, Cromwell following with the Chancellor Audeley. No one else was present at the beginning of the conference. The King drew the Ambassador apart into a window, when Chapuys again produced at length his four points. The King listened patiently as Chapuys expatiated on the action of the French, remarking only that Milan and Burgundy belonged to France and not to the Emperor. The observation showed Chapuys that things were not yet as he could have wished. He inquired whether, if the treaty was made, England would be prepared to assist the Emperor should France attack the Duke of Gueldres. Henry answered that he would do his part better than others had done their parts with him; he then called up Cromwell and Audeley, and made Chapuys repeat what he had said. This done, Chapuys withdrew to another part of the room, and fell into conversation with Sir Edward Seymour, who had since entered. He left Henry talking earnestly with the two Ministers, and between him and them Chapuys observed that there was a strong difference of opinion. The King’s voice rose high. Cromwell, after a time, left him, and, saying that he was thirsty, seated himself on a chest out of the King’s sight and asked for water. The King then rejoined the Ambassador, and told him that his communications were of such importance that he must have them in writing. Chapuys objected that this was unusual. He had no order to write anything, and dared not go beyond his instructions. Henry was civil, but persisted, saying that he could give no definite answer till he had the Emperor’s offer in black and white before him. Generally, however, he said that his quarrel with Rome did not concern the Emperor. If he wished to treat with the Pope, he could do it without the Emperor’s interposition; the Princess was his daughter, and would be used according to her deserts; a subvention for the Turkish war might be thought of when the alliance with Charles was renewed. Finally he said that he would not refuse his friendship to those who sought it in becoming terms, but he was not a child, to be whipped first and then caressed and invited back again and called sweet names. He drummed with his finger on his knees as he spoke. He insisted that he had been injured and expected an acknowledgment that he had been injured. The overtures, he repeated, must come from the Emperor. The Emperor must write him a letter requesting him to forget and forgive the past, and no more should then be said about it; but such a letter he must and would have. Chapuys restrained his temper. He said it was unreasonable to expect the Emperor to humiliate himself. Henry only grew more excited, called Charles ungrateful, declared that but for himself he would never have been on the Imperial throne, or even have recovered his authority in Spain when the commons had revolted; and, in return, the Emperor had stirred up Pope Clement to deprive him of his kingdom.

Chapuys said it was not the Emperor’s doing. The Pope had done it himself, at the solicitation of other parties.

So the conference ended, and not satisfactorily. Henry was not a child to be whipped and caressed. Charles wanted him now, because he was threatened by France; and he, of his own judgment, preferred the Imperial alliance, like the rest of his countrymen; but Charles had coerced the Pope into refusing a concession which the Pope had admitted to be just, and the King knew better than his Council that the way to secure the Emperor’s friendship was not to appear too eager for it.

The sharpness with which the King had spoken disappointed and even surprised Cromwell, who, when the audience was over, could hardly speak for vexation. His impression apparently was that the French faction had still too much influence with the King, and the French faction was the faction of Anne. He recovered his spirits when Chapuys informed him of the concessions which the Emperor was prepared to make, and said that he still hoped for “a good result.”

The next morning, Wednesday, 19th of April, the Privy Council met again in full number. They sate for three hours. The future of England, the future of Europe, appeared to them at that moment to be hanging on the King’s resolution. They went in a body to him and represented on their knees that they believed the Imperial alliance essential to the safety of the country, and they implored him not to reject a hand so unexpectedly held out to him on a mere point of honour. Henry, doubtless, felt as they did. Since his quarrel with Charles he had hardly known a quiet hour; he had been threatened with war, ruin of trade, interdict, and internal rebellion. On a return to the old friendship the sullen clergy, the angry Peers, would be compelled into submission, for the friend on whom they most depended would have deserted them; the traders would no longer be in alarm for their ventures; the Pope and his menaces would become a laughingstock, and in the divorce controversy the right would be tacitly allowed to have been with the King, since it was to be passed over without being mentioned. Immense advantages. But the imperious pride of Henry insisted on the form as well as the substance—on extorting a definite confession in words as well as a practical acknowledgment. All the troubles which had fallen on him—the quarrel with the Papacy, the obstinate resistance of Catherine and Mary, the threats of invasion, and insurrection—he looked upon as Charles’s work. It was true that the offered friendship was important to England, but England’s friendship was important to the Emperor, and the Emperor must ask for it. He told the kneeling Councillors that he would sooner lose his crown than admit, even by implication, that he had given Charles cause to complain of him. He was willing to take the Emperor’s hand, but he would not seek or sue for it. The Emperor himself must write to him.

Cromwell, in describing what had passed to Chapuys, said that he was sorry that things had gone no better, but that he was not discouraged. The King had directed him to thank Chapuys for his exertions, and, for himself, he trusted that the Ambassador would persevere. If the Emperor would send even a letter of credit the King would be satisfied. In all his private conversations, although he had taken the responsibility on himself, he had acted under the King’s instructions. The Ambassador asked him, if this was so, what could have caused the change. He answered that kings had humours and peculiarities of their own, unknown to ordinary mortals. In spite of what had passed, the King was writing at that moment to Francis, to require him to desist from his enterprise against Italy.

Chapuys replied that he would endeavour to obtain the letter from the Emperor which the King demanded. He wrote to Charles, giving a full and perhaps accurate account of all that had passed; but he ended with advice of his own which showed how well Henry had understood Chapuys’s own character, and the slippery ground on which he was standing. Chapuys had disliked the treaty with England from the beginning. He told his master that Henry’s real purpose was to make him force out of the Pope a revocation of the sentence on the divorce. He recommended the Emperor once more to leave Henry to reap the fruit of his obstinacy, to come to terms with France, and allow the Pope to issue the Bull of Deposition—with a proviso that neither he nor Francis would regard any child as legitimate whom the King might have, either by the Concubine or by any other woman whom he might marry during the Concubine’s life, unless by a dispensation from the Pope, which was not likely to be asked for. He did not venture to hope that the Emperor would agree, but such a course, he said, would bring the King to his senses, and force would be unnecessary.[389]