Every day now Francis called on Suffolk to know what was doing in the matter of Tournay,[ [397] and the ambassadors were troubled, for they knew how Henry clung to his conquest and the pains and expense he was at to keep it. So did Francis, and he offered a good sum for its honourable restitution, and urged Suffolk to devise some means for this. Again and again the King said he desired nothing but peace with the King of England, and on Suffolk's reminding him significantly that he also wanted Tournay, he said yes, for it had anciently appertained to France. The ambassadors said, it would be best for him first to renew the last amity and the obligation for the payment of the money still owing to England, and in the meantime they would write for instructions. "My lords," they wrote to the Council, "we took this way because we thought it not honourable for the King our master to restore Tournay by any article comprised in the treaty of peace; for under whatsoever condition it was restored, the bruit should be made in France that the King our master was fain to deliver Tournay to have peace." Then they suggested that if the restoration were contemplated, it should be done secretly and first published at the meeting of the two Kings now under discussion.[ [398] Francis was not to be put off by the cautious bearing of the English. He left nothing unsaid that might bring him the town. Wolsey was particularly interested in the question. For over a year now he had been trying to get himself recognized as its bishop de facto without success, in spite of Louis XI.'s honest help. Now Suffolk told Francis that the Archbishop was the only man who "might do most pleasure for him for the obtaining of his mind in the premises," and he would do well to write to him. The French Council offered to secure the bishopric to Wolsey if the town were surrendered, and Francis said that he might "not only have that, but the best in France, if he would take it,"[ [399] and he promised to Suffolk, "on his faith in my hand," that he would make the French bishop-elect give it up to the Archbishop in all haste, and declared he would not stick with Wolsey for ten of the best bishoprics in France. But Wolsey knew, as he said, that probatio amoris est exhibitio operis, and from Ghent came news of French perfidy, for Wolsey's agent, Sampson, wrote that Francis had written in favour of the French bishop-elect, and there was nothing to be done on the spot, for he was in power, and the Lady Margaret, well-disposed as she was, could do nothing.[ [400]
The condition of affairs at Tournay itself was pithily summed up by the new Lieutenant, Lord Mountjoy. "The city cannot be kept without ready money. There are many strangers, much weapon, many cankered stomachs, some stark traitors within it: the soldiers rude and not to be trusted, poor and cannot put up with slack payment."[ [401] In fact, the garrison was in open mutiny, and the country round about was none too friendly, and had to be scoured and kept clear of thieves. The arrival of the new Lieutenant was a signal for an outbreak, for the soldiers' pay was in arrears and they were asked to serve another month before they got their wages. The most mutinous were threatened with dismissal, but they got hold of the keys of the gates and said no gates should be opened till the men were paid in full. If pay was not forthcoming they would spoil the town and then depart and leave it. They shouted "money, money, money," and when they were paid ungratefully threatened to hang their marshal; "down with Sir Sampson!" "To satisfy them the Lieutenant suffered a trumpeter to blow to cause him to avoid the town."[ [402] No doubt French treason was seen in this scene characteristic of all garrisons of that age, where the only discipline was the gibbet and the purse; and because of these difficulties the place became dearer than ever to Henry. It was a useless expense, it gave a rallying-point for Burgundians and French, but still Henry had taken it and he meant to show that he could keep it. Wolsey knew Henry's feelings if any did, and to pass the time he advised Suffolk to inquire as though from himself what lands would be given in exchange for it.[ [403] Little but the Tournay question was talked of at the French Court, and Suffolk, though he said he would find it hard to get any land at the French King's hand,[ [404] did as he was told. So he spoke privately with M. de Boissi, who, after Louise de Savoie, had the King's ear. De Boissi said that "the King his master was marvellous desirous to recover it, and that he would think it a marvellous kindness in the King, my master, if he would be content to let him have it for so reasonable a sum to be paid in years." Suffolk remarked that in his own opinion the county of Guisnes might be taken in exchange. On this Boissi asked him to dinner next day, and in the interval communed with the King and his mother, who were both willing to treat on those terms. "Nevertheless the King knew well," said Boissi, "that there should be a [great] clamor on the side of the King for the delivery [of the] subjects of the said country: for he said they were the best Frenchmen in France. Whereunto [I] replied that the King, my master, should have no less clamor for the delivery of the city of Tournay and Tornassen, and so [I begged] him to advertise you to the intent that you [might] break with the King in it."[ [405] Suffolk was very pleased with the way the negotiation was going, and desired Wolsey to get him a formal commission to treat, and in his inimitable spelling proceeds, "I dowth not bout yt yow and I schall [do] the Kyng howar mastar byttar sarwyes [than] anne man lywyng in thys mattar and hall [hi]s oddar afyrres in these parttes."[ [406] He would like to have such a commission to show Francis what trust his master had in him, so that the French King shall be "more gladder to be good to me in all [other] affairs." Poor Suffolk! he never got very far away from his obsession.
By the end of February the embassy had to report that the Flemish negotiations were proceeding merrily with the French Court, but by the middle of March Peter de la Guiche and John de Selva were again sent to England to sign the treaty for peace and intercourse, and also to renew the league of London, and arrange for the payments promised by Louis XII.
During these two months the Norfolk party in the English Council, that of the "old" nobles (who as well as Suffolk's adherents had drawn French pensions), had tried consistently to prevent the renewal of the French treaty. They desired a return to the traditional policy of amity with the enemies of France, and an edge was given to their opposition by the marriage project which they knew was in the air. There were hindrances on all sides, and it was openly said that Suffolk was no match for the lady, still direct heir to the throne, who might have fulfilled the destiny of a princess, and been a useful bond in some friendship abroad. They made great capital out of Spinelly's news from the Low Countries of Chièvres' difficulties with France, of Margaret's desire for the English marriage, and of the report that the Prince's fancy was for Mary and England. With Flanders lay English trade interests, and Maximilian, in spite of his having sold his tutelage for 100,000 crowns, was said to be eager for the marriage; in fact, would marry her himself, rather than let her remain in French hands. Then came rumours about a marriage with Suffolk, and the Flemish gossip galled the King, and was rubbed in, no doubt, by his Council, and did Suffolk no good with either party. The Lady Margaret, report said, could not believe it, and said it was false gossip to the Queen's dishonour. Henry was said to have asked Francis "to be pleased" with the marriage, and Francis withheld his consent, and the Court at Ghent were laying wagers about it.[ [407] Suffolk's friends in the Court knew not what to do; his star for the moment seemed waning, and they prudently held little communication with him. The restitution of Tournay was desired by many in the Council, but when the news of the secret marriage reached England, authenticated by the Duke's own hand, at once suspicion gave tongue that Suffolk had played the King false, and pledged himself to the restitution of the city in return for support in his marriage venture.[ [408] It is just probable that this was tacitly so, for though Suffolk had seemed so open about the Tournay business, and had told Henry that Francis had asked him to be the arbiter in the matter, and that he had consented because he thought it more to the King's honour and profit to be judged by his own subject, yet it would be ridiculous to suppose that he was uninfluenced by his personal feelings and by his difficult situation. Suffolk wrote that the matter had "never passed my mouth but once to your Grace. There be but few of your Council but has been in hand with me and [think] it best that you should depart with it, so you might depart with it honourably. Yet, Sir, I insure your Grace that I have not put the French King in none hope of it; insomuch [that I have] caused him to leave it out of his instructions given to his ambassadors to the inte[nt that] he should not do manner anything that should not be to your contentation, but to refer it [to your] pleasure."[ [409] Suffolk probably thought he was honestly serving his King, but self-advancement had become his habit of mind, and while up to this moment he had advanced evenly by the simple means of Henry's friendship, now at the meeting place of cross currents he knew not how to steer, and thought he was safely hugging the bank while the current was carrying him into danger. It was impossible in this complex situation that it should be otherwise, for he can never be considered other than a man of mediocre intelligence of men and things. His charm of person and manner, his good-natured appreciation of others, his lack of affectation, these were his greatest virtues, the virtues of a good digestion, and none are of great value in diplomacy without a penetrating and directing intelligence.
No doubt it was Norfolk who helped to straighten Henry's face over the question of the dowry, and suggested his demand for "both the stuff and the money," which drew a remonstrance from the ambassadors to Wolsey: "we received from the King's Grace and from your good lordsh[ip] other writings concerning the Queen's dot. A[nd] as in the King's letters it is mentioned that w[e should] make composition for the Queen's traduction s[o as] we take no less sum than is contained in y[our letter], we think that no composition but an extremity. Moreover, seeing that she shall have all her stuff r[eturned?], we think it not reasonable to demand such [sums] as have been laid out by the King's officers f[or] provision of the same, for she may not have both [the] money and the stuff. And sithens it is likely that [we] shall commune with reasonable men, we would be r[ather] loth to demand anything out of reason. Wher[efore] we heartily pray you to know the King's pleasure and further mind in this matter, and by the next post we shall certify you of everything more at large."[ [410] Wolsey said, however, that the question of gold plate and jewels was the measure of Henry's interest in the affair, and one feels bound to accept the strange spectacle of the King loving and trusting his subject and sister, but unable to resist the chance of making money out of their distressful circumstances. Henry VII. had been called avaricious and he was, not from any Silas Marner-like quality, but to bottom firmly his family and the state. His son had inherited the habit without the occasion, and joined to it the pleasure-loving, self-indulgent nature of his maternal grandfather, and the result was a having temperament and a hollow hand. Now, however, before more could be written on the vexed question of the dot, the fabric of Suffolk's politic handling was dashed to the ground, and he himself was in grave danger.
As we have seen, Suffolk had consented to Mary's tearful importunities and married her secretly, and as the first few weeks passed he had been emboldened in his disobedience by letters from Wolsey containing news of Henry's friendly steadfastness in the matter of the marriage, and by the favour of Francis and of his mother, who craftily pushed the affair to prevent a rapprochement between Flanders and England. These good news he weighed against the advice he had of the many hindrances set about the marriage by the Council and Court in England, and took good heart and cloaked his fault under expressions of devotion. He wrote to the King that he prays he may live no longer should he do "that shall be otherwise to your honour,"[ [411] and thanked Wolsey in another letter for his friendship, which he says he shall never forget "to me dyyng day."[ [412] It must have been about a week after the writing of these letters, on February 26, that Suffolk first began to realize that his position was not so secure as in his less jovial moments he had imagined. Henry had, on February 12, written from Greenwich to Francis thanking him for his kind treatment of his sister, but nothing further.[ [413] On the 14th Francis wrote to England at Mary's dictation, and the lovers were expecting the answer with confidence. It came through Wolsey, probably in the first days of March. The King, said Wolsey, was, by the advice of his Council, writing to Suffolk and the other ambassadors plain answers of his mind and pleasure upon those things contained in their letters, dated Paris, February 18, and therefore he would make no mention of the same. But the King had last Sunday, after he had communed with his Council and determined the making of the said answers, called Wolsey apart and willed him to write to Suffolk and show him, as he knew right well, that the King would have the French King's plate of gold and jewels for his benevolent mind to the Queen and him for the accomplishment of their desires. He charged Suffolk to "substantially stick" to this business, and said that though he would gladly give him permission to return home with the Queen, he cannot do this till "ye have perfected and established" the question of the dot. "Wherefore, my lord, I require and advise you, inasmuch as the King's Grace hath great mind to the King's plate of gold and jewels, substantially to handle that matter and to stick thereunto, for I assure you the hope that the King hath to obtain the said plate and jewels is the thing that most stayeth his Grace constantly to assent that ye should marry his sister, the lack whereof I fear me might make him cold and remiss and cause some alteration, whereof all men here except his Grace and myself would be right glad. Howbeit I shall for my part always put to my hand both in word and deed to bring your desire to good effect to the uttermost of my mind and powers. And because the thing toucheth so greatly the [accomplishing] of your intended pleasure, me thinketh I can no less do than to advertise you of the same. Trusting that you will endeavour yourself for the satisfaction of the King's mind in this behalf, whereof I shall be as joyous as any man living. And I send unto you herein closed the copy of the letter the King has written at this time with his own hand to the French King, and by no manner persuasion or means I could induce his Grace to write other wise therein for this reason, for his Grace thinketh that if he should make plain answer at the first instance of the French King, he would think that his Grace was agreed to the said marriage afore your coming hither and [acquaint thereto], and that the French King might think that ye had not been plain with him. Further more as touching the French King's desire for the meeting and interview between the King's Grace and him, ye may show unto him that the King's Highness is of semblable affection and desirous to have the same come shortly to pass."[ [414] The letter is sharper in tone than the former ones and goes plainly and roundly to the matter. It suggests that Suffolk had made little progress in his initial commission, though he had already written that the Queen was to be liberally treated, and, in fact, had Doctor West instead of the Duke of Suffolk been the correspondent, Wolsey probably would have told him "not to muse so much on the moon but go straightly and wisely to the matter," and "not to be moved by every wind and frivolous report." But apart from this slight asperity of the one-eyed to the blind, the letter is hardly one to have moved Suffolk to confession. The Duke had not wit enough to carry through a plot; he was a plain man, and, like such, lived from day to day with no clear course before him, and could not bend circumstance to his plans. "Every wind and frivolous report" were wrought into the fabric of his days without selection, for he had never cultivated the mental clearness of conception and vision which gives poise to projected plans and desires. His political life had always been covered by Wolsey's shadow, and when, about the beginning of March, Mary told him she feared she was with child, Suffolk could think of nothing better to do than to write to the Archbishop and confess all, and in the face of the difficulties of Wolsey's last letter it was the best course. "My lord of York, I re[commend] me unto you, and so it [is that I know] well that you have been the chief man [before al]l that has been the helper of me to that I am [now] next God and my master, and therefore I will never hide none thing from you, trusting that you will help me now as you have always done. My lord, so it is that when I came to Paris, I heard many things which put me in great fear, and so did the Queen both. And the Queen would never let me be in rest till I had granted her to be married. And so, to be plain with you, I have married her heartily" and have lyen with her, in so much that I fear me lest she be with child. My lord, I am not in a little sorrow lest the King should know it, and that his Grace should be displeased with me, for I assure you that I had rather have died than he should be miscontent. And therefore, my own good lord, since you have brought me hitherto let me not be undone now, the which I fear me I shall be, without the special help of you. My lord, think not that ever you shall make any that shall be more [forwa]rd to you, and therefore, mine own good lord, give me help. My lord, as methinks th[ere is no] remedy in this matter but that I m[ay obtain] another letter from the French K[ing, and a let]ter from the French Queen, and a [letter from the King's] mother to the King my [sovereign lord], desiring his Grace that the ... her by them, the which should be m[ade known] to all France, and that his Grace should thereby perceive that they would be glad to see it [done] most honourably that could be, and m[ight now] specially because all the noblemen of France be here. My lord, I doubt not b[ut that] they will write this for me or how ye shall think best they should write.... For I beseech you to instruct me in all haste possible. My lord, they marry as well in Lent as out of Lent with licence of any bishop. Now, my lord, you know all, and in you is all my trust, beseeching you of your assured help, and that I may have answer from you of this or all my other writings as shortly as it may be possible, for I ensure you I have as heavy a heart as any man living, and shall have till I may hear good tidings from you." In a much mutilated postscript he says he had written to the King saying nothing to him of this matter, for "I would not for all the good in the world he should know of it but as you shall think best."[ [415] The same evening he wrote again to Wolsey with a certain reserve, for his cousin, Sir Richard Wingfield, addressed the letter: "My lord, for to induce the Queen's matter and mine unto the King's grace, I think best for your first entry you should deliver unto him a diamond with a great pearl, which you shall receive with this from the Queen, his sister, and require him to take it worth, assuring his Grace that whensoever she shall have the possession of the residue, that he shall have the choice of them according unto her former writing. My lord, she and I remit this matter wholly to your discretion, trusting that in all haste possible we shall hear from you some good tidings touching our affairs, wherewith I require you to despatch this bearer and that he tarry for no other cause."[ [416] Next day Mary wrote to her brother a non-committal little letter: "My most kind and loving brother, I humbly commend me unto your Grace, thanking you entirely of your comfortable letters, beseeching your Grace most humbly now so to continue toward me and my friends, as our special trust is in your Grace, and that it may like you with all convenient diligence to send for me that I may shortly see your Grace, which is the thing that I most desire in the world, and I and all mine is at your Grace's commandment and pleasure.
By your loving sister, Mary."[ [417]
Now came a fortnight's painful waiting "in this town of Paris," which Suffolk said irritably "is like a stinking prison,"[ [418] and finding inaction under suspense unbearable, the Duke set his plan in action for the publishing of the marriage to all France without waiting for Wolsey's reply. First he told Francis. Robert de la Marck, a contemporary chronicler, gives an account of his interview with Francis. The King sent for the Duke of Suffolk, and thus addressed him: "I am advertised of this thing: I did not think you had been so base, and if I chose to do my duty I should this very hour take your head from off your shoulders, for you have failed of your faith, and trusting to your faith I have not had watch kept over you. You have secretly, without my knowledge, married Queen Mary. "Whereunto the said Duke of Suffolk, being much afraid and in great terror, answered and said, "Sir, may it please you to pardon me. I confess I have done ill, but, Sir, I implore you to consider the love which made me so do. I throw myself entirely on your compassion, praying you to have mercy upon me." Whereon the King told him that he would not have mercy on him, but would keep him fast till he should have advertised the King of England thereof; and if it pleased him then he too would be content."[ [419] On March 12 Louise de Savoie wrote to Henry, asking him to allow the Duke of Suffolk's marriage to take effect and assuring him of Suffolk's devotion to his service,[ [420] and Francis may have also written, though the only letter to be found belongs to the beginning of April [dated March in the Calendar of State Papers]. If he did not at this moment, it is probably to be accounted for by the fact that within a few days he discovered that the jewel which the crown most prized, the Mirror of Naples, had been sent to England. Queen Claude asked for it as belonging of right to the queens of France, and it was not forthcoming.[ [421] Francis was furious, and Suffolk had to write to Wolsey in all haste for its immediate return, "for it is the same that is said should never go from the queens of France."[ [422] He took occasion again to urge an open marriage in France, "my lord at the reverence of God help that I be married as I go out of France openly for many things which I will avert you in my next letters,"[ [423] and asks his advice whether the King and the King's mother should write again "for this open marriage, seeing that this privy marriage is done and that I think none other wise than that she is with child."[ [424] If Francis was sulking both about the way he had been deceived in the secret marriage and about the loss of the jewel, then no wonder Paris was as a stinking prison to Suffolk.
