The Widow of Milan's fate still hung in the balance. While Mary of Hungary had not yet lost all hope of marrying her to the Duke of Cleves, and Queen Eleanor was no less anxious to see her the wife of a French Prince, fresh proposals reached Brussels from an unexpected quarter. This new suitor was none other than the Emperor's bel oncle, King Henry of England. This monarch, who had openly defied the laws of the Church, and after divorcing Charles's aunt, had pronounced Queen Katherine's daughter to be illegitimate, could hardly expect to find favour in the eyes of the Regent. Mary's own opinion of Henry's character is frankly given in a very interesting letter which she wrote to her brother Ferdinand in May, 1536, when the King of England had sent Anne Boleyn to the block and made Jane Seymour his third wife.

May, 1536] HENRY VIII. AND HIS WIVES

"I hope," she wrote, "that the English will not do us much harm now we are rid of the King's mistress, who was a good Frenchwoman, and whom, as you have no doubt heard, he has beheaded; and since no one skilful enough to do the deed could be found among his own subjects, he sent for the executioner of S. Omer, in order that a Frenchman should be the minister of his vengeance. I hear that he has married another lady, who is said to be a good Imperialist, although I do not know if she will remain so much longer. He is said to have taken a fancy to her before the last one's death, which, coupled with the fact that neither the poor woman nor any of those who were beheaded with her, saving one miserable musician, could be brought to acknowledge her guilt, naturally makes people suspect that he invented this pretext in order to get rid of her.... It is to be hoped—if one can hope anything from such a man—that when he is tired of this wife he will find some better way of getting rid of her. Women, I think, would hardly be pleased if such customs became general, and with good reason; and although I have no wish to expose myself to similar risks, yet, as I belong to the feminine sex, I, too, will pray that God may preserve us from such perils."[164]

But whatever Mary's private opinions were, political reasons compelled her to preserve a friendly demeanour towards King Henry. The English alliance was of the utmost importance to the trade of the Netherlands, and the enmity of France made it essential to secure Henry's neutrality, if not his active help. The death of Queen Katherine, as Cromwell wrote, had removed "the onelie matter of unkindness" between the two monarchs, and was soon followed by more friendly communications. When the news of Prince Edward's birth reached Spain, the Emperor held a long conversation with Sir Thomas Wyatt, the poet and scholar, who had been sent to the Imperial Court early in 1537. He expressed great pleasure at the news, laughing and talking pleasantly, inquiring after the size and goodliness of the child, and ended by saying frankly that he approved of the King's recent marriage as much as he had always disliked his union with Anne Boleyn.[165] These last remarks must have fallen strangely on the ears of Wyatt, whose old intimacy with the hapless Queen had nearly cost him his life, and whose death he lamented in some of his sweetest verse. But he was too good a courtier not to repeat them in his letters to Cromwell and the King. The news of the Prince's birth was shortly followed by that of the Queen's death, which took place at Hampton Court on the 24th of October.

"Divine Providence," said the royal widower, "has mingled my joy for the son which it has pleased God to give me with the bitterness of the death of her who brought me this happiness."

Dec., 1537] MARIE DE GUISE

Cromwell wrote to inform Lord William Howard, the special Envoy who had taken the news of the Prince's birth to France, of Her Grace's death, and in the same letter desired him to bring back particulars of two French ladies who had been recommended as suitable successors to the late Queen, since His Majesty, "moved by tender zeal for his subjects," had already resolved to marry again. One of these was King Francis's plain but accomplished daughter Margaret, who eventually married the Duke of Savoy, although Cromwell, knowing his master's tastes, remarked that, from what he heard, he "did not think she would be the meetest."[166] The other was Mary, Duchess of Longueville, the eldest daughter of Claude de Guise, brother of the Duke of Lorraine. The charms of this young widow were renowned at the French Court, and the English Ambassador's reports of her modesty and beauty inspired Henry with an ardent wish to make her his wife. Even before Jane Seymour was in her grave, he attacked the French Ambassador, Castillon, on the subject, and suggested that both these Princesses, and any other ladies whom the King of France could recommend, might be sent to meet him at Calais.[167]

Francis, who was more gallant in his relations with women than his brother of England, laughed long and loudly when this message reached him, and sent Castillon word that royal Princesses could not be trotted out like hackney horses for hire! He quite declined to allow his daughter to enter the lists; and as for Madame de Longueville, whom the King was pleased to honour with his suit, she was already promised to his son-in-law, the King of Scots. This fickle monarch, who had courted Dorothea and Christina by turn, and finally married Madeleine de Valois, had lost his young wife at the end of six months, and was already in search of another. At the same time Francis sent his royal brother word that he should count it a great honour if he could find a bride in his realm, and that any other lady in France was at his command.[168] But Henry was not accustomed to have his wishes thwarted, and in December, 1537, he sent a gentleman of his chamber, Sir Peter Mewtas, on a secret mission to Joinville, the Duke of Guise's castle on the borders of Lorraine, to wait on Madame de Longueville, and find out if her word was already pledged. Both Madame de Longueville and her clever mother, Antoinette de Bourbon, returned evasive answers, saying that the Duke of Guise had agreed to the marriage with King James, but that his daughter's consent had never been given. This reply encouraged Henry to persevere with his suit, while Mewtas's description of the Duchess's beauty, in Castillon's words, "set the tow on fire." He complained that his brother had behaved shamefully in preferring the beggarly King of Scots to him, and was forcing the lady to marry James against her will. In vain Castillon told him that Madame de Longueville had been promised to the King of Scots before Queen Jane's death, and that Francis could not break his word without mortally offending his old ally and son-in-law. Nothing daunted, Henry sent Mewtas again to Joinville in February, 1538, to obtain Madame de Longueville's portrait, and ask if she were still free. This time his errand proved fruitless. The marriage with the King of Scots was already concluded, and the contract signed. Nevertheless, Henry still harped on the same string. "Il revient toujours à ses moutons," wrote Castillon, "et ne peut pas oublier sa bergère." "Truly he is a marvellous man!"[169]

Meanwhile Cromwell, who had no personal inclination for the French alliance, was making inquiries in other directions. Early in December, while Mewtas was on his way to Joinville, the Lord Privy Seal wrote privately to Hutton, desiring him to send him a list of ladies in Flanders who would be suitable consorts for the King. In a letter written on the 4th of December, the Ambassador replied that he had little knowledge of ladies, and feared he knew no one at the Regent's Court "meet to be Queen of England."