Ceremonial, however splendid, was but an episode in Wolsey's diplomatic business. The news of the French victory at Marignano was so unpleasant that Henry VIII. for some time refused to believe it to be true. When at last it was impossible to doubt any longer, the necessity became urgent to put a spoke in the wheel of Francis I. England was not prepared to go to war with France without allies, and Wolsey developed his cleverness in attaining his ends by secret means. Nothing could be done by uniting with the cautious Ferdinand; but the flighty Maximilian was a more hopeful subject. The only troops that could be used against France were the German and Swiss mercenaries, men who made war a trade, and were trained and disciplined soldiers. The first means of injuring France was to prevent her from hiring Swiss soldiers, and the second was to induce Maximilian to undertake an Italian expedition in his own interests. As regards the Swiss, it was merely a matter of money, for they were ready to sell themselves to the highest bidder. In like manner it was easy to subsidise Maximilian, but it was difficult to hold him to his promise and be sure that he would spend the money on the right purpose. Wolsey, however, resolved to try and use Maximilian; he offered him the aid of a large contingent of the Swiss if he would attack Milan. Knowing the delicacy of the enterprise and the slipperiness of Maximilian, Wolsey entrusted this matter to a man whose pertinacity had been already tried,—Richard Pace, secretary of Cardinal Bainbridge, who had stubbornly insisted on an investigation of the circumstances of his master's death, and had annoyed the Roman Court by his watchful care of his master's effects. Pace was sent to hire soldiers amongst the Swiss, and Wolsey's ingenuity was sorely tried to supply him with money secretly and safely.
The hindrances which beset Pace in carrying out his instructions decorously were very many. Not the least troublesome was the want of intelligence displayed by Sir Robert Wingfield, the English envoy to Maximilian. Wingfield belonged to the old school of English officials, honest and industrious, but entirely incapable of finesse. He did not understand what Pace was about; he could not comprehend Wolsey's hints, but was a blind admirer of Maximilian, and was made his tool in his efforts to get the gold of England and do nothing in return. But Pace was deaf to the entreaties of Maximilian and to the lofty remonstrances of Wingfield. He raised 17,000 Swiss soldiers, who were to serve under their own general, and whose pay was not to pass through Maximilian's hands. Maximilian was sorely disappointed at this result, but led his troops to join the Swiss in an attack on Milan. On 24th March 1516, the combined army was a few miles from Milan, which was poorly defended, and victory seemed secure. Suddenly Maximilian began to hesitate, and then drew off his forces and retired. We can only guess at the motive of this strange proceeding; perhaps he had never been in earnest, and only meant to extract money from England. When Pace refused to pay he probably negotiated with Francis I., and obtained money from him. Anyhow his withdrawal was fatal to the expedition. The Germans at Brescia seized the money which was sent to Pace for the payment of the Swiss. The Swiss in anger mutinied, and Pace was for some days thrown into prison. Maximilian vaguely promised to return, but the Swiss troops naturally disbanded. Such was Maximilian's meanness that he threatened Pace, now deserted and broken by disappointment, that if he did not advance him money he would make peace with France. Pace, afraid to run the risk, pledged Henry VIII. to pay 60,000 florins. All this time Wingfield was convinced that it was Pace's ill-judged parsimony that had wrought this disaster, and he continued to write in a strain of superior wisdom to Wolsey. He even, at Maximilian's bidding, forged Pace's name to receipts for money. Never was diplomat in more hopeless plight than the unlucky Pace.
Wolsey saw that his plan had failed, but he put a good face upon his failure. Maximilian enjoyed the advantage which consummate meanness always gives for a moment. He put down the failure to niggardliness in the supplies, and showed his goodwill towards Henry by treating him to fantastic proposals. If Henry would only cross to Flanders with 6000 men, Maximilian would meet him with his army, set him up as Duke of Milan, and resign the Empire in his favour. This preposterous scheme did not for a moment dazzle the good sense of the English counsellors. Pace, in announcing it to Wolsey, pointed out that the Emperor spoke without the consent of the Electors, that Maximilian was thoroughly untrustworthy, and that Henry in such an enterprise might imperil his hold upon the English Crown, "which," writes Pace with pardonable pride, "is this day more esteemed than the Emperor's crown and all his empire." Henry was of the same opinion; and Maximilian failed on this plea "to pluck money from the king craftily." Pace remained, and jingled English money in Maximilian's ear, as a means of preventing him from turning to France; but not a penny was Maximilian allowed to touch, to Sir Robert Wingfield's great annoyance. Pace so far succeeded, that when, in November 1516, Francis I. made an alliance with the Swiss, five of the cantons stood aloof. Pace was rewarded for his labours and sufferings by being made a secretary of state. Sir Robert Wingfield received a severe rebuke from the king, which sorely disturbed his self-complacency. But it is characteristic of Wolsey's absence of personal feeling that Wingfield was not recalled from his post. Wolsey saw that he had been no more foolish than most other Englishmen would have been in his place.
Meanwhile a change had taken place in the affairs of Europe which turned the attention of France and England alike in a new direction. Ferdinand the Catholic died in January 1516, and the preponderance of France had so alarmed him that he laid aside his plan of dividing the power of the House of Austria by instituting his second grandson, Ferdinand, King of Spain. After the battle of Marignano he changed his will in favour of his eldest grandson, the Archduke Charles, who now added the Spanish kingdoms to his possession of the Netherlands. The young prince had just emancipated himself from the tutelage of Maximilian, but was under the influence of ministers who pursued a purely Flemish policy, and longed to give peace to the Netherlands by an alliance with France. England was connected with Flanders by commercial interests, and long negotiations had been conducted with the Flemish Government for a close alliance. But Charles's advisers were won over by France, and Charles himself was attracted by the hope of a French marriage. His position was difficult, as he was poor and helpless; he could not even go to take possession of the Spanish Crowns without help from one side or the other. Had he been older and wiser he would have seen that it was safer to accept the gold of Henry VIII., from whose future projects he had nothing to fear, rather than try and secure a precarious peace for the Netherlands by an alliance with France. However, Charles turned a cold ear to the English ambassadors, and his ministers secretly brought about a treaty with France, which was signed at Noyon in August 1516.
The Treaty of Noyon was a further rebuff to Wolsey, England was passed by in silence, and a tempting bait was laid to draw Maximilian also into the French alliance, and so leave England entirely without allies. Maximilian had been for some time at war with Venice about the possession of the towns of Brescia and Verona. The Treaty of Noyon provided that the Venetians should pay the Emperor 200,000 crowns and remain in possession of the disputed territory. Maximilian used this offer to put himself up to auction; he expressed his detestation of the peace of Noyon, but pleaded that unless Henry came to his help he would be driven by poverty to accept the proffered terms. Henry answered by a proposal that Maximilian should earn the price he fixed upon his services: let him come into the Netherlands, and work the overthrow of the unworthy ministers who gave such evil advice to their sovereign. Maximilian stipulated for the allowance which he was to receive for the expenses of a journey to the Netherlands, for which he began to make preparations. He raised all possible doubts and difficulties, and received all the money he could extract on any pretext from Henry VIII.; at last he secretly signed the Treaty of Noyon in December, and drew his payments from both parties so long as he could keep his game unsuspected.
But Wolsey was not so much deceived as Maximilian thought, and showed no discomfiture when Maximilian's shiftiness at length came to light. If Maximilian would not be faithful it was well that his untrustworthiness should be openly shown, and Francis I., who was watching his manœuvres, could not feel proud of his new ally. He knew what he had to expect from Maximilian when the 200,000 crowns were spent. The money that had been spent on Maximilian was not wasted if it gave him an encouragement to display his feebleness to the full.
So Henry maintained a dignified attitude, and showed no resentment. He received Maximilian's excuses with cold politeness, and waited for Francis I. to discover the futility of his new alliances. Maximilian was clearly of no account. Charles had gained all that he could gain from his league with France towards quieting the Netherlands; for his next step, a journey to Spain, he needed the help of England, and soon dropped his attitude of indifference. After thwarting England as much as he could, he was driven to beg for a loan to cover the expenses of his journey, and England showed no petty resentment for his past conduct. The loan was negotiated, Charles's ambassadors were honourably received, it was even proposed that he should visit Henry on his way. This honour Charles cautiously declined on the ground of ill health; but all the other marks of Henry's goodwill were accepted with gratitude, and in September 1517 Charles set out on his voyage to Spain, where he found enough to employ his energies for some time.
This conciliatory attitude of England was due to a perception that the time had come when simple opposition to France was no longer useful. England had so far succeeded as to prevent the French ascendency from being complete; she had stemmed the current, had shown Francis I. the extent of her resources, and had displayed unexpected skill. Moreover, she had made it clear that neither she nor France could form a combination sufficiently powerful to enable the one to crush the other, and had given Francis I. a lesson as to the amount of fidelity he might expect from his allies. When it was clear to both sides that there was no hope for far-reaching schemes, it was natural for the two powers to draw together, and seek a reasonable redress for the grievances which immediately affected them.
Chief amongst these on the French side was the possession of Tournai by the English, glorious, no doubt, as a trophy of English valour, but of very doubtful advantage to England. Negotiations about its restoration were begun as early as March 1517, and were conducted with profound secrecy. Of course Charles hoped to get Tournai into his own hands, and did not wish it to be restored to France. It was necessary to keep him in ignorance of what was going on, and not till he had sailed to Spain were there any rumours of what was passing.
Wolsey and Henry VIII. deceived the ambassadors of Charles and of Venice by their repeated professions of hostility against France, and Charles's remonstrances were answered by equivocations, so that he had no opportunity for interfering till the matter had been agreed upon as part of a close alliance between England and France. The negotiations for this purpose were long and intricate, and form the masterpiece of Wolsey's diplomatic skill. They were made more difficult by the outbreak in England of a pestilence, the sweating sickness, before which Henry fled from London and moved uneasily from place to place. Wolsey was attacked by it in June so seriously that his life was despaired of; scarcely was he recovered when he suffered from a second attack, and soon after went on a pilgrimage to Walsingham to perform a vow and enjoy change of air. But with this exception, he stuck manfully to his work in London, where, beside his manifold duties in internal administration, he directed the course of the negotiations with France.