CHAPTER V
BETROTHAL TO LOUIS XII. OF FRANCE
Though Louis de Longueville has always had the credit of arranging the match between the Princess Mary and Louis XII. of France, there was another who claimed openly the initiation of the idea. Margaret of Savoy said that the Pope had been to her knowledge the promoter of the whole business,[256] and Leo X. claimed[257] that he had been the first to propose it to France and England. It had been discussed secretly in Rome by the Bishop of Marseilles and the Bishop of Worcester, who met frequently together in the city and in "vynes and garthynges" without it.[258] The Medici had always been favourers of the French, and there is no doubt that Leo X. and "il magnifico Juliano" used their influence to make the peace, but equally doubtless, had not Longueville been on the spot "et mena tellement l'affaire de poste en poste,"[259] matters would not have progressed so rapidly. The Frenchman was not only moved by desire for the national safety, he had also a private crow to pick with Burgundy,[260] for the Prince's officers had seized on certain lands of his, and in return the Duke rejoiced at the opportunity of wiping his neighbour's eye. His position at the English Court gave him every chance of doing so. Henry had intended from the first that he should be in the household, but Katharine had been forced to lodge him in the Tower for the first three weeks after his arrival. On the King's return he was lodged in the Court, and became Henry's daily companion. He was witness to the King's anger against Ferdinand of Aragon, and his annoyance at the variableness of the Emperor, and no doubt, secrets being ill-kept, he knew all about the Savoy-Suffolk affair. As early as March Wolsey was half gained to France, and the general of Normandy, Thomas Bohier, in England ostensibly to confer with Longueville at Sittingbourne about his ransom, was on friendly terms with the new Bishop of Lincoln, and Louis XII. desired his mediation.[261] Henry however, was too sure that France was at his feet to treat at once, and it was not till his allies had definitely left him that he listened to French proposals. The Bishop of Lincoln's attitude was complicated by his claim on Tournay, of which See he was bishop, but was there opposed by the French bishop-elect, who had easily collected the revenues with the collusion of the Flemish, who wanted no English bishop and mobbed his vicar in Ghent and Bruges. It probably was in Wolsey's mind that if he did the Pope's pleasure in the matter of peace with France, there was more likelihood of his enjoying the fruits of the See. The bait held out to him by Louis was a cardinal's hat, and the French King over and over again promised to use his influence with Leo X. to get this for him. In March the marriage was talked about in Rome, in April in Paris,[262] while in England the only subject of conversation was the coming war, and in May, when the Castile marriage openly hung fire, the General of Normandy was again in England. He sent a herald to Calais[263] for a safe-conduct and also to arrange a truce, but this was not granted, "so he came here with a cartel to know the ransom required for the Duke de Longueville, which, being generally known, he was answered that not having brought the ransom with him, and should he have nothing else to say, he was to depart in God's name." Unabashed by this brusque reception, which may have been one of Wolsey's carefully arranged "pageants," the Duke, "who is in great favour, making himself most amiable,"[264] stepped in, and by his mediation the General was allowed to open his mission for some agreement between the two crowns. Henry demanded a million and a half ducats and three towns--Therouenne, Boulogne and St Quentin. The General answered suavely this could hardly be called an agreement, but his master was prepared to make peace and give the usual tribute. King Henry then rejoined, "Well, if he chooses to marry my sister, the widow of the King of Scots, the agreement shall be made."[265] The General was allowed to write to his master, and he was invited to the sacring[266] of the new ship, the "Harry Grace à Dieu," the King's newest toy, "which has no equal in bulk and has an incredible array of guns." There, in a brilliant company, he saw the Queen and the Princess Mary, surrounded by the bishops, nobles and ambassadors, and he witnessed the reception of the ambassadors from the Duchess of Savoy and the Emperor, whom Henry took over the seven tiers of the ship, pointing out her novelties and merits. All the French negotiations had to be conducted with the greatest secrecy, for the war was popular in England, where the nobles and gentlemen had already prepared their equipages at great expense, but abroad the matter was talked of openly, and the lady mentioned was not the impossible Margaret, but Mary. Henry refused to be drawn by the Emperor's ambassador,[267] and said nothing beyond that he had peace under his hand if he wanted it; but they said roundly to the Council that the General "was well known to the Emperor as one accustomed to handle more difficult matters than the ransom of the Duke de Longueville." The great difficulty was Tournay, and that question was finally waived for later settlement, and a treaty of peace for the lives of the two kings and one year after was concluded on a basis of tribute paying, and all arrears from France, dating from 1444, were to be gradually paid up at a fixed rate. Henry wanted to give his sister without a dowry, in clear contravention of his father's will, but eventually it was arranged that Mary's trousseau, jewels, and furniture, valued at 200,000 crowns, were to be regarded as such.
[256] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 5387; Galba B., iii. 166.
[257] _Ibid._, i. 5543; Vitell. B., ii. 108.
[258] _Ibid._, i. 5106; Vitell. B., ii. 77.
[259] Fleurange, Hist. Louis XII.; Petitot, Col. de Mémoires, xli. 262.
[260] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 4725; Galba B., iii. 148.
[261] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 4883; Calig. D., vi. 117.
[262] C. S. P. Venice, ii. 398.
[263] C. S. P. Venice, iii. 1485.
[264] _Ibid._, iii. 1485.
[265] _Ibid._, ii. 436.
[266] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 5192; Galba. B., iii. 208.
[267] Lettres de Louis XII., iv. 335.
Late in the evening of July 29[268] the General of Normandy came again to London, to a very different reception. "He had come to seal the articles, having been met by four hundred of the chief lords on horseback to do him honour." Next day, at Wanstead Manor, Mary made the formal renunciation of her compact of marriage with Charles, Prince of Castile, in the presence of the Dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk, the Earl of Worcester, the Bishops of Lincoln, Winchester and Durham, and Sir Rauf Verney, her chamberlain. On August 7 the preliminaries were concluded and the contract signed. On the 11th peace was proclaimed in London, with none of the usual pomp, by two men on horseback "in a public street; neither trumpet nor any other instrument was sounded, and but few persons heard the proclamation, neither were bonfires burnt or any other demonstration made for this peace."[269] Two days later the wedding took place at Greenwich, and early in the morning of that Sunday, wrote the Venetian ambassador's secretary, a lord came in his barge in quest of Messer Andreas Badoer,[270] "on behalf of the King that he might go to the Court to be present at the wedding." So he went to where his Majesty was, at a place called Greenwich, on a fine river, and proceeded upstairs, where the other lords were awaiting the King in the apartment where the ceremony was to be performed. It had the appearance of a large chamber, the walls around being covered with cloth of gold surmounted by an embroidered frieze with the royal arms. There were many lords present, clad in cloth of gold and some in silk, all wearing chains, who came to meet the ambassador, saying, "Thou art as welcome as if thou wert our father and of our own blood," for which he thanked them much, and he gave them good greeting. And he remained thus, talking, first with one and then with another, for three hours, till at length the King came and was immediately followed by the Queen, his sister the bride, and a number of ladies. The Duke de Longueville, with two French ambassadors, represented the King of France. The Primate delivered a Latin sermon, saying that they had been brought to that place to celebrate "a holy marriage, the contracting parties being the sister of the King of England and the King of France, whose majesty was represented by the Duke de Longueville." Then John de Selva, President of Normandy, spoke, and said that the King of France was willing to take the Princess Mary to wife, and the Bishop of Durham read the French letters patent. When these discourses were ended, the Duke de Longueville, representing the person of the French King, taking the Princess by the right hand, read the marriage contract in French[271]; after which the Princess, taking the Duke's right hand in hers, read her contract[272] in the same tongue. The Duke then signed the "schedule," and after him the Princess signed "Mary," and that done, Longueville delivered to her a golden ring which she placed on the fourth finger of her right hand. By this time it was nearly mid-day, and the King went to Mass in procession headed by the lords walking two and two, and clad in silk gowns of their own fashion with gold collars as massive as chains, "two dukes of the realm walked together clad in gowns of cloth of gold," and last came the Venetian ambassador next the King as a mark of honour, and paired with the Archbishop of Canterbury.[273] Henry wore a gown of cloth of gold and ash-colour satin in chequers, with certain jewelled embroidery, after his usual fashion, of beaten gold appliqué to the brocade, and a most costly collar round his neck. With him, nearly in a line but slightly behind, walked the Duke de Longueville, wearing a gown of cloth of gold and purple satin in chequers, and a most beautiful collar. After the King came the Queen, who was pregnant, also in ash-colour satin with chains and jewels, and on her head a cap of cloth of gold covering the ears in the Venetian fashion, and beside her walked the bride in a petticoat of ash-colour satin, and a gown of purple satin and cloth of gold in chequers. She also had a Venetian cap and many chains and jewels, and was accompanied by many ladies. After Mass came a banquet, followed by a return to the same room where the ceremony had taken place, and there, to the harmonious sounds of flute, harp, pipe, and violetta, they danced for two hours, the King and the Duke of Buckingham dancing in their doublets, and the tunes were so merry that Badoer, old as he was, felt tempted to throw off his gown and follow Henry's example. Whether it was before, after, or during the dance, at some moment the marriage was formally concluded _per verba de præsenti_, and the bride, in the presence of many witnesses, undressed and went to bed. "The Marquis of Rothelin (the Duke de Longueville), in his doublet with a pair of red hose, but with one leg naked, went into bed and touched the Princess with his naked leg, and the marriage was declared consummated."[274] After the dance, refreshments were served, and the King and Queen departed, and the Archbishop of York [Wolsey], the Duke de Longueville, Badoer, the lord of St John's [_i.e._ the prior of St John of Jerusalem in England], and other noblemen went to the house given by the King to the Duke, a good bowshot from the palace, but within the park walls. There the legal instrument was signed and mutually ratified.[275] Then wines were served, and the Venetian ambassador, and the nobleman who had fetched him in the morning, with the lord of St John's, took their leave and returned home by barge, "making good cheer by the way."
[268] C. S. P. Venice, ii. 464.
[269] C. S. P. Venice, ii. 505.
[270] _Ibid._
[271] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 5322; Vitell. C. xi. 167.
[272] _Ibid._
[273] C. S. P. Venice, ii. 505.
[274] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 5337, Harl. MSS. 3462, f. 142.
[275] Rymer's Fœdera, xiii. 444.
What were Mary's feelings? In spite of the Flemish agent's report, it is not necessary to believe that she had been deeply wounded by the breaking off of the Flemish marriage, or that she had ever been in love with the Prince. But it is well known that she gave a reluctant consent to the French marriage, and that her reluctance was said to have its root in her attachment to the Duke of Suffolk, who three months ago had been still a suitor for the hand of Margaret of Savoy. Did the two deserted ones console each the other? It is not at all impossible that mutual sympathy brought them into greater intimacy, and that Mary fell in love with the Duke then, for where the experienced duchess fell, what hope was there for the young princess! That Suffolk wanted to marry her there can be no doubt, but his career and experience made it impossible that he should plunge into love with Mary's enthusiasm. He had already had two wives, of whom one was still living, and, put down in black and white, the story of his marriages is hardly respectable. When he was Sir Charles Brandon he made a contract of marriage "with a gentlewoman, Mistress Anne Browne, and before any solemnization of that marriage not only had a daughter by her, which after was married to the Lord Powes, but also brake promise with her and married the Lady Mortimer, which marriage the said Anne Browne judicially accused to be unlawful, for that the said Sir Charles Brandon had made a pre-contract with her and carnally known her. Which being duly proved, sentence of divorce was given, and he married solemnly the said Mistress Anne Browne; at which marriage all the nobility were present and did honour it; and afterwards had by her another daughter, who was married to the Lord Mounteagle. After this the said Mrs Anne Browne continued with him all her life as his wife, and died his wife, without impeachment of that marriage."[276] But these matters would not influence Mary, for, besides the fact that the English were notoriously loose about marriage, she was in love, and that hid everything. When Henry, at the last moment (and it can be taken for granted that as secrecy was necessary Mary knew little till then), told her of her destiny, he had the greatest difficulty in persuading her to it. She rebelled vehemently against marriage with an "old, feeble, and pocky" man of fifty-six, for her ladies would not mince their words with niceness when it came to descriptions. But Henry showed her that it could not be for long; Louis had been ill for years now (grisly reasoning for a girl of eighteen), and once a widow she would be free to marry whom she would, if she would only do his pleasure this once. Longueville painted the delights of the French Court, the centre of all light and fashion, and the honour of being queen of it, while her pride, wounded by the Flemish treatment, was glad to be able to return so speedy a Roland for their Oliver. Once she had allowed herself to be dazzled into consenting, things were hurried on, and she had not a chance for reflection; there was nothing but dancing, banquets, and feasts from the day of her marriage to that of her departure,[277] varied by visits from Jehan de Paris,[278] painter and designer of frocks, and from Marigny,[279] her husband's _maître d'hôtel_, with presents and letters from the King. One day he arrived at the Court preceded by a white horse laden with two coffers both full of gifts for her,[280] and she was soon reconciled to her lot, and was "so pleased to be Queen of France that she did not care that the French King was an old man and gouty."[281] She was not going to France "en dame de petite étoffe,"[282] and if her first trousseau was to have been in all things queenly and honourable, this one eclipsed it, in measure as the dignity of a queen of France eclipsed that of a princess of Castile. The greater number of her gowns were made in the French fashion, but six were Milanese and eight were English, with tight sleeves. Her jewels were magnificent, and justified her father's reputation of having harvested those of many impecunious princes. Diamonds, caboché and cut, "tables and points," pearls, balas rubies sparkled in bracelets, pendants, baldrics, rings. Her device of four roses set with diamonds appeared in various forms, and the fleur de lys was not absent, and her frontlets were of pearls. Her bejewelled plate, her hangings, her bedroom and her chapel appointments, were of the costliest, and the glitter of the fashionable cloth of gold was over all.[283] Small wonder that the excitement of the preparations and the pleasure of possessions reconciled Mary to her fate, as her chosen "word" might indicate, "La volonté de Dieu me suffit." Besides the jewels of the trousseau, Mary received many marriage presents from France, and Louis sent her, amongst other things, a marvellous diamond pendant, which roused to admiration the jewellers of the Row, to whom it was unknown even by reputation.[284]
[276] Julius F. vi. 409.
[277] C. S. P. Venice, ii. 500.
[278] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 5462; Calig. D. vi. 141.
[279] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 5462; Calig. D. vi. 141.
[280] C. S. P. Venice, ii. 505.
[281] _Ibid._, ii. 482.
[282] Fleurange, Hist. Louis XII.; Petitot Collection de Mémoires, p. 265.
[283] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 5491-2; Vitell. C. xi. f. 158.
[284] C. S. P. Venice, ii. 500.
A few days after the marriage ceremony the French ambassadors set out for France to carry the news of their successful mission. They did not go empty-handed. The General and his son had been well rewarded, and Longueville, no longer a prisoner, had an order on Cavalcanti, the Italian merchant and banker, for £2000,[285] Henry's present on the occasion of the marriage, when he also gave him his embroidered gown. From Canterbury Mary received what was probably her first letter as Queen of France. "Aujourd'hui," wrote Longueville, "M. le général et moi avons eu des lettres du roi qu'il nous écrit que le plus grand désire qu'il a c'est de savoir de vos nouvelles, et qu'il trouve merveilleusement bon le lieu d'Abbeville pour vous trouver ensemble ainsi qu'il a été accordé, et que là sans point de faute vous le trouverez délibéré de vous bien recevoir. Et ferai, Madame, la plus grande diligence qu'il me sera possible d'aller divers lui pour lui dé[livrer] de vos nouvelles. Et toujours ainsi que j'en saurai des siennes vous en advertirai ainsi que vous m'avez commandé, vous suppliant très humblement, Madame, qu'il vous plaise me commander toujours vos bons plaisirs pour les accomplir comme celui qui désire vous faire service. Madame, il y a un marchant nommé Jehan Cavalcanty, dem[eurant] à Londres lequel à mon affaire m'a fait service. Il a quelque affaire envers le roi votre frère. Je vous supplie qu'il vous [plaise], Madame, lui être aidant envers le dit et l'avoir pour [ ... ]. Madame je prie à notre Seigneur qu'il vous donne très bonne v[ie]."[286] Bohier also wrote. On their arrival at Estampes, where was the King, their description of Mary, "the prettiest girl in Europe," and probably also the difficulty about Tournay, moved Louis to write to ask for her speedy delivery into his hands. "Faîtes mes recommandations," he wrote to Wolsey, "au roi mon frère, votre maître, et lui dites que je lui prie m'envoyer sa sœur le plus tôt que faire se pourra, et qu'il me fera en ce faisant singulier plaisir."[287] The same day Longueville wrote to Mary, "Que le roi s'ennuie de ce que ne lui écrites de vos nouvelles et aussi que votre cas ne se dépêche pas par delà si tôt qu'il voudrait bien, pourquoi, Madame, je vous supplie très humblement que lui veuillez écrire et tout faire par delà que le plus tôt que pourrez vous en puisse venir, car plus grand plaisir ne lui saurez faire en ce monde. Et en surplus, Madame, votre plaisir sera me mander et commander vos bons plaisirs pour les accomplir. Madame je prie à Dieu qu'il vous donne très bonne vie et longue."[288] So Mary, with the help of John Palsgrave, wrote a formal little letter in French, of which this is a translation:--
"Sir, very humbly I recommend me unto your grace. I have received the letters which it has pleased you to write to me with your own hand, and heard what my cousin the Duke de Longueville has told me from you, in which I take great joy, felicity, and pleasure, for which and for the honour which it has pleased you to do to me I hold myself ever indebted and obliged to you, and thank you as cordially as I can. And because by my cousin you will hear how all things have taken their end and conclusion, and the very singular desire that I have to see you, I forbear to write to you a longer letter. For the rest, Sir, praying our Creator to give you health and long life,--By the hand of your humble companion,
MARY."[289]
[285] L. and P. H. VIII., ii.; Book of Payments, August 1514.
[286] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 5329; Calig. D. vi. 137.
[287] Vitell. C. xvi. f. 145.
[288] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 5373; Calig. D. vi. 142.
[289] Bethune MSS., Bib. du Roi, Paris, quoted by Mrs Green in "Lives of the Princesses of England," vol. v. p. 34.
On September 14, in the church of the Celestines at Paris, after Mass, Louis went through the marriage ceremony with Mary's proctor, the Earl of Worcester. The Dauphin, Longueville, John Stuart, Duke of Albany, Robertet, the treasurer, were there, with many others, and the next day, in Les Tournelles, in the faubourg St Antoine, the King appeared before the Bishop of Paris and bound himself to the payment of a million gold ducats to Henry VIII., and in default to be excommunicated.[290] That was the last of the formalities; all had now been complied with, and Louis was eager to see the wife he had heard so much about. So he wrote to Wolsey again urging that she should be sent over as soon as possible, for to have her across the sea was all his desire, and thanking Wolsey for all the trouble that had been taken with "l'appareil et les choses," which he understood were exquisitely beautiful.[291] He enclosed a letter to Mary, who replied: "Monseigneur, Bien humblement a votre bonne grace, je me recommende. Monseigneur j'ai par Monseigneur l'evêque de Lincoln reçu les très affectueuses lettres qu'il vous a plu naguères m'écrire, qui m'ont été a très grant joye et confort, vous assurant, Monseigneur, qu'il n'y a rien que tant je désire que de vous voir. Et le Roi, Monseigneur et frère, fait tout extrème diligence pour mon allée delà la mer, qui au plaisir de Dieu sera brière. Vous suppléant, Monseigneur, me vouloir cependant pour ma très singulière consolation souvent faire savoir de vos nouvelles, ensemble vos bons et agréables plaisirs pour vous y obéir et complaire, aidant notre Créateur qui vous donne, Monseigneur, bonne vie et longuement bien prosperer. De la main de vre bien humble compaigne.
MARIE."[292]
[290] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 5408. R.O.
[291] _Ibid._, i. 5462; Calig. D. vi. 141.
[292] Ellis's "Original Letters," 1st series, vol. i. p. 113.
What kind of a man was Mary to be consigned to? A recent French writer gives the following description of his character drawn from contemporary sources:--"D'esprit médiocre, pas eloquent ni savant, mais plein de bons sens, c'était comme le grandgouzier de Rabelais, un type de 'bon raillard,' aimant à boire et à rire, orné des vertues bourgeoises et pratiques, dont il ne lui manquait pas une, même la fidélité à sa femme, et pour le reste, plein de bonté, de loyauté, d'amabilité, de rondeur; point de rancune, la gaîté cordiale, les goûts charitables, les sentiments serieusement chrétiens, sans ostentation, ni tendance au merveilleux: homme tout cœur qui ne pensait qu'à son peuple."[293] He knew and admired Italian art and writers, and welcomed them at his Court, but with no frenzied admiration. He was, above all things, reasonable, normal, and commonplace. To his first wife Jeanne he had been forcibly married by her father, Louis XI. She is said to have been a crippled angel, and the first thing Louis did on his accession was to obtain a divorce from her from Alexander VI., "l'argent entra en ligne," and all was easy with the Borgia; and then to marry Anne of Brittany, the widow of his cousin and predecessor, Charles VIII. She was a not unusual mixture of piety and arrogance, and a thousand times more Duchess of Brittany than she was Queen of France to the day of her death. Like Katharine of England, time and again, in spite of prayers, promises, and pilgrimages, her hopes of a male heir were dashed, and she only left two daughters to survive her, the elder of whom, Claude, after having been grudgingly betrothed to Francis d'Angoulême, who was in open antagonism to Anne, was married to him a few months after her mother's death. Renée, the younger, the child of many prayers, called for St René, to whom her father had vowed his child, was the princess who had so often been en concurrence with Mary in Flanders. Since his wife's death and his own continued illness Louis had allowed the Dauphin, as Francis d'Angoulême was now called, to meddle in affairs of state, for, after all, vain-glorious and incapable of viewing things from any but an absolutely personal vantage as he was, the young man was more than likely to become King of France, and must serve his apprenticeship, and now nothing was done without his advice. He was furious with Longueville for his part in bringing about the English marriage, "il en sceut bien mauvais gré,"[294] but made up his mind to carry the thing off well, "et voullust bien montrer qu'il n'estoit pas mal content de ce marriage," and threw himself heartily into the preparations for Mary's reception, confident that his position was saved by the senile condition of the King's bodily powers, and frankly interested in his favourite occupation of organizing gorgeous spectacles. The Court Mary was about to enter was no harmonious one, for Louise de Savoie and her son were centres of disaffection, and Claude de France and her father were eclipsed by the magnificence of the hôtel d'Angoulême, the treasurer of France, Robertet, pandering to the Dauphin's boyish extravagance in clothes and advancing money to pay his colossal tailor bills. Mary would find herself the centre of all kinds of intrigue, from which the kindly nature of her husband could hardly protect her, though, as Worcester wrote, "he hath a marvellous mind to content and please the Queen."[295] He awaited her coming in great good humour with seven coffers of jewels and other treasures beside him, and "au logic du roy il ne feust plus question de deuil."[296] Worcester wrote that "there is nothing that can displease him, and he hath provided jewels and goodly gear for her. There was in his chamber the Archbishop of Paris, Robertet, and the General and I, where he showed me the goodliest and richest sight of jewels that ever I saw. I would not have believed it if I had not seen it."[297] All things were for her, said the King, "but merrily laughing, 'my wife shall not have all at once, but at divers times, for he would have many and at divers times kisses and thanks for them.' I assure you he thinketh every hour a day till he seeth her. He is never well but when he heareth speak of her. I make no doubt she will have a good life with him by the grace of God."
[293] "Louise de Savoie," by Maulde la Clavière, p. 116.
[294] Fleurange, _op. cit._, p. 269.
[295] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 5468; Calig. D. vi. 198.
[296] Fleurange, Hist. Louis XII.; Petitot Collection de Mémoires, p. 267.
[297] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 5468; Calig. D. vi. 198.
And on the other side of the channel poor Mary would willingly have made every hour a day before her departure. Two or three days before she left London "all the merchants of every nation went to Court. The Queen desired to see them all and gave her hand to each of them. She wore a gown in the French fashion of woven gold, very costly; she is very beautiful and has not her match in England, is a young woman sixteen years old, tall, fair, and of light complexion with a colour, and most affable and graceful. On her neck was a jewelled diamond as large and as broad as a full-sized finger, with a pear-shaped pearl beneath it, the size of a pigeon's egg, which jewel had been sent her as a present by the King of France.... And the jewellers of the Row, whom the King desired to value it, estimated its worth at 60,000 crowns. It was marvellous that the existence of this diamond and pearl should never have been known; it was believed that they belonged to the late King of France, or to the Duke of Brittany, the father of the late Queen." "On bidding farewell to the merchants she made them many offers, speaking a few words in French and delighting everybody. The whole Court now speaks French and English, as in the time of the late King."[298]
[298] C. S. P. Venice, ii. 500.
Mary's ladies had been chosen from among her companions by Wolsey, and on August 7, when the marriage treaty was signed, the ladies had been arranged for also. The paper was evidently taken to France for the King's signature, for it is in the British Museum signed "Loys," and dated, in a contemporary English hand, August 8, 1514.[299] Their names are: Mademoiselle Grey, sister of the Marquis [of Dorset], Mademoiselle Mary Fenes, daughter of Lord Dacres [of Hurst Monceaux], Mademoiselle Elizabeth, sister of Lord Grey [de Wilton?], Mademoiselle Boleyne [Anne, not Mary, in spite of Dr Brewer], Mistress Anne Jerningham, _femme de chambre_, Jean Barnes, _chamberière_. These were the ladies "contracted for." But later on more were added without reference to Louis' pleasure: old Lady Guildford, Elizabeth Ferrers, Anne Devereux, M. Wotton, Anne Denys, and evidently others. Dr Denton, her old friend, went as her almoner, and John Palsgrave as her secretary. "Mother" Guildford came from her retirement to go with her former charge as lady of honour, for she spoke French well, and would be able, as Henry told Mary, to advise the _jeune mariée_ in the perplexing situations which might arise. At the suit of Longueville[300] Louis suggested that Jane Popincourt should be among his wife's ladies, for he understood that "the Queen loveth and trusteth her above all the gentlewomen about her," but on Worcester telling him of her evil life he said that "if the King made her to be brent, it should be a good deed," and Longueville's scheme fell through. Louis said there should be never man nor woman about his wife but such as should be at her contentation, but later on he judged their fitness by another standard. As the Duke of Suffolk could not go with her, the Duke of Norfolk was to present Mary to her husband, and with him were many nobles and ladies; notably the Marquis of Dorset and his four brethren, Lord de la Warr, Lord Mounteagle, the Bishop of Durham, with many bannerets and esquires. The Duchess of Norfolk and the Countess of Oxford were with the Duke, and the Marchioness of Dorset and Lady Mounteagle accompanied their husbands. The company was chosen by Wolsey, and several of Suffolk's friends were included. Thomas Wriothesley, Garter King at Arms, with Richmond Herald, went to see that all things were in order, and fifty officers of the King's household were transferred to his sister's.
[299] L. and P. H. VIII. i. 5484; Vitell. C. xi. 155.
[300] _Ibid._, i. 5468; Calig. D. vi. 198.
On September 19 all these "gros princes et dames et gros personages" set out for Dover, accompanied by what remained of the Court to the water's edge. "There would be about a thousand palfreys, and a hundred women's carriages," wrote Lorenzo Pasqualigo, merchant of Venice in London, to his brother. "There were so many gowns of woven gold, and with gold grounds, housings for the horses and palfreys of the same material, and chains and jewels, that they were worth a vast amount of treasure; and some of the noblemen in this company, to do themselves honour, had spent as much as 200,000 crowns each. Many of the merchants proposed going to Dover to see this fine sight."[301] The Court rode in leisurely fashion to the coast at Dover. Mary was expected in France, where no business save rejoicings for the wedding was attended to, on the 29th, and John Heron[302] had pressed the ships for her crossing by that date, and the fleet had scoured the channel to east and west, but it was not till October 2 that she set sail for Boulogne. Henry had meant to have gone ten miles out to sea with her in the "Harry Grace à Dieu,[303] but the weather was too threatening, so he bade his sister good-bye at the water-edge, his last words being a renewal of his promise about her second marriage, and hers a passionate reminder. The fleet set sail, and had not gone far before the fulfilment of her first marriage became for the moment problematic, for they "had not sailed a quarter of their voyage in the sea but that the wind rose and severed the ships, driving some of them to Calais, some into Flanders, and her ship and three others with great difficulty were brought to Boulogne, not without great jeopardy at the entering of the haven, for the master ran the ship hard on shore. But the boats were ready and received the lady out of the ship, and Sir Christopher Garnish ['strong, sturdy stallion, so sterne and so stowsty'] strode into the water, and took her in his arms and bare her to land, where the Duke of Vendôme, and a cardinal with many other great estates, received her with great honour."[304] At least one ship of the fleet was lost, "The Great Elizabeth," at Sandgate, close to Calais, and Sir Weston Browne, the captain, and not a hundred men escaped out of a company of five hundred.
[301] C. S. P. Venice, ii. 500.
[302] L. and P. H. VIII., ii. 68.
[303] C. S. P. Venice, ii. 503.
[304] Stowe's Chronicle, _ed._ 1592, pp. 828 _et seq._
The useful Marigny[305] at once sent notice to Louis at Abbeville of the Queen's arrival, and thither, after a short interval of rest, long enough to squeeze the sea water from her clothes, went Mary, accompanied all the way by Longueville, who "made her good cheer," Lautrec, the Bishop of Bayeux, and a large company, and joined on the way by the Duke d'Angoulême, whom the English annoyed by calling "M. le duc," instead of "Monsieur" _tout court_. On the 8th the company was within a few miles of Abbeville, and at St Nicholas d'Essarts[306] the princes left Mary to rest and change and put herself in order, while they rode on to Abbeville to announce her coming to the King. Louis was curious to see her, but etiquette forbade his going to meet her, so he sent back the Dauphin to meet her a mile or so out of the town, with MM. d'Alençon, de Longueville, de Lautrec, de la Tremouille, saying that he intended to happen along the road hawking with his falcons, and would accidentally meet the Queen at such and such a place, and Mary was to know nothing of his intention. At the place appointed, a wide plain a little over a mile away, the Dauphin met Mary riding a white palfrey, and wearing a dress of cloth of gold on crimson, her shaggy hat of crimson silk cocked over her left eye, and detained her there talking till some horsemen came in sight. They were the King, the Cardinals of Auch and Bayeux, M. de Vendôme, the Duke of Albany, Count Galeazzo di San Severino, the master of horse, and others. Louis wore a short riding dress of the same stuff as the Queen's, a sure sign that the meeting had really been pre-arranged, for at this time it was the fashion when Kings and Queens appeared together in public that their garments should always be made of the same material. He rode as jauntily as he could a beautiful Spanish horse, whose barb was of cloth of gold and black satin in chequers. As he came up he gallantly kissed his hand to Mary and expressed his surprise at this chance meeting, and Mary doffed her hat when told who this was, and kissed her hand to the King, who then brought his horse close up to her palfrey and "threw his arm round her neck and kissed her as kindly as if he had been five and twenty." After a few words with her he greeted the princes and gentlemen of her company, and then, saying that he would continue his hunting, he departed and returned home by another way.[307] He looked exceedingly ill, and Mary seems to have found him worse than she had imagined. After Louis had gone the procession was formed. It led off with fifty of Mary's esquires dressed in silks of several sorts, all wearing the inevitable gold collar or chain. Next came the Duke of Norfolk, with the ambassadors and noblemen two and two, all wearing enormous gold chains (some cost as much as £600), some doubling and trebling them round their necks, others wearing them "prisoner fashion," and all having velvet bonnets of different colours. Garter King at Arms and Richmond Herald in their tabards followed, with eight trumpeters in crimson damask, and macers with gilt maces surmounted by a royal crown; then two grooms in short doublets of cloth of gold and black velvet, with velvet caps, each leading a palfrey, and after these, two other palfreys ridden by pages. Then came the Queen on her white palfrey, with the Dauphin always at her side, and at her stirrup her running footmen, followed immediately by her litter of cloth of gold, embroidered with gold lilies in wrought gold. On the back and front of it were the French lilies and the parti-coloured roses of York and Lancaster, while on the sides above and below were dolphins and more red and white roses. This was borne by two large horses trapped to match the litter and ridden by two pages in livery. Next followed the ladies: first a party riding, gay in silks and gold brocades, and then four in a carriage covered with gold brocade patterned in large flowers, and drawn by six horses trapped to match. Then more ladies on palfreys, and another carriage, and after that more palfreys, all decked and trapped in gold brocade and murrey velvet, with running footmen, and then ten palfreys more in the same stuffs with pale blue and white fringe. Last of all came 200 English archers marching two and two in three divisions; the first were in doublets of green satin and surcoats and belts of black velvet, with shaggy red and white hats; the second wore black doublets and shaggy white hats; the third black with grey hats. But this was not all. About half a mile out of the town the chief men of Abbeville met the Queen with 150 men, archers, musketeers, and arbalestmen, all in red and yellow, and with them the captain of the town and thirty men in his own livery. These fell in at the head of the procession, which had swelled to considerable dimensions before it reached the suburbs. At Nôtre Dame de la Chapelle without the walls there seems to have been a short halt to allow Mary to make final preparations for her entry, and here she was met by the clergy. It was now about four o'clock, and a sharp shower fell, drenching them all, especially the ladies, and, indeed, "of water from heaven there was no lack until the evening, which caused some regret." The procession again formed up. "First went a good number of archers, musketeers and arbalestmen of the town, all in their livery of red and yellow; next the Prévôt de l'Hôtel with his archers; then the 400 archers of the Guard (on foot) with their captains, followed by the Grand Seneschal of Normandy, with the gentlemen about eighty in number, including the princes and grandees, who might amount to as many as twenty-five, in gallant trim of various sorts and many in gold brocade." The Queen came next, riding under a canopy of white satin embroidered above and around with roses, and supported by two porcupines which the clergy had prepared for her, and which was borne by the officers of the town. Her dress was now "of gold brocade with a white gown," made in English fashion with tight sleeves, "very costly both in jewels and goldsmith work." She held in her hand a sceptre of white wood, and all round her under the canopy were her running footmen, while the Scots Guards made a second circle just outside the canopy. The Dauphin rode just beyond the edge of her canopy, and they laughed and talked together, for "une si belle personne tout or et diamants plut fort au duc de Valois."[308] The reality of all this magnificence far exceeded the description, wrote the Venetian ambassador, "to the great glory of the Queen." Abbeville welcomed her with enthusiasm, and trumpets, clarions, bells and artillery all vied in making the noise without which jubilation is impossible. The people were delighted with her, and admired her fair beauty and gentle manners, for they were not all so critical as the Venetian ambassador, who at once spotted what he called the weak point in her face, its light eyebrows and eyelashes. Under clangour of bells and blare of trumpets, and amid the press of her new subjects, Mary, still a little pale from her recent fatigues and stormy crossing, rode through the Porte Marcade down the wet _chaussée,_ all hung with tapestries now damp with rain, meeting Mysteries and Moralities at every corner, till she came to the Church of St Wolfran, Abbeville's patron saint, where she dismounted to give thanks. On the Place where was Mary's lodging her most trying ordeal was before her, for there awaited her Madame Claude, who had been "slightly indisposed and unable to go out of the town to meet her." Mary was of those who thinketh little evil, and her kind heart was moved at the sight of that white, plain face, with its sweet expression, and she met her then, as later, "with the utmost courtesy and honour and very lovingly."[309] The Venetians, who delighted in spectacles, give no account of Mary's formal presentation to her husband, and for that reason I inclined to the belief that Gaguin's[310] account is apocryphal, and that Mary was allowed to sup in peace and rest before the ball given by the Duke and Duchess of Brittany (as François and Claude were called by the English) in the evening. Neither do their letters mention the homage to St Wolfran, but to give thanks at the parish church was usual on such occasions and not likely to have been omitted. What a day for a girl of nineteen to have passed through! No wonder she looked a little pale and weary, but her spirits never flagged nor her amazing energy, and she showed her usual zest in dancing and listening to songs and music. Her people said she cared for nothing in the world so much as dancing and singing, and that night she danced and smiled her way into the hearts of the whole Court, "for she conducts herself with so much grace and has such good manners." The enthusiastic Venetian exclaimed, "She is a paradise!" and envied the King. The ball must have been a sumptuous affair. English and French noblemen vied with one another in magnificence, and their ladies, too, were glittering with jewels and brocades, but in this trial by glory San Severino was easily the handsomest in his gown of cloth of gold lined with superb sables. The stuff for it, ordered specially from Florence, had only arrived the day before, to the despair of the tailors, who had had to work all night to have it ready for Sunday's doings.
[305] L. and P. H. VIII., i. 5469; Calig. E. i. 79.
[306] "Lives of the Princesses of England," v. p. 41.
[307] C. S. P. Venice, ii. 511.
[308] "Louise de Savoie," by La Maulde Clavière, p. 369.
[309] C. S. P. Venice, ii. 509, 510, 511, for description of whole episode.
[310] Gaguin, Chronique de France.
While one end of the town was dancing and singing, in the poorer quarter across the river men were fighting flames for their lives and homes. Fire had seized the wooden hovels, and no help was to be expected from the King's men, for the tocsin was not allowed to disturb the King's amusements. Thickly curtained windows shut out the sight of the flames from the court, while the Italians in the house of the Venetian ambassador watched their progress with vehement prayers for deliverance.[311] The high wind fanned them, and many of the houses were burnt down before the sounds of royal merriment ceased; but God was merciful to the Italians, and the flames were got under before they leapt the river. Thus by shipwreck and by fire was Mary's new life ushered in.
[311] C. S. P. Venice, ii. 511.