CHAPTER III
THE UNIVERSAL PEACE
1515-1518
The death of Louis XII. was a severe blow to Wolsey. The French alliance was not popular in England, and was bitterly opposed by the Duke of Norfolk and the party of the old nobility, who saw with dislike the growing influence of Wolsey. They now had an opportunity of reversing his policy and securing his downfall. It required all Wolsey's sagacity to devise a means of solving the difficulties which the death of Louis created. The new King of France, Francis I., was aged twenty-one, and was as ambitious of distinction as was Henry. The treaty between France and England had not yet been carried out, and it would require much dexterity to modify its provisions. The kings of the sixteenth century were keen men of business, and never let money slip through their hands. The widowed Queen of France must, of course, return to England, but there were all sorts of questions about her dowry and the jewels which Louis had given her. Henry claimed that she should bring back with her everything to which any title could be urged: Francis I. wished to give up as little as possible. The two monarchs haggled like two hucksters, and neither of them had any care of the happiness or reputation of the young girl round whom they bickered. In the background stood Wolsey's enemies, who saw that if they could create a rupture between France and England Wolsey's influence would be at an end.
In these dangerous conditions Wolsey had to seek an ally in Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk, and had to trust to his private knowledge of the character of Queen Mary. She had the strong will of the Tudors, and had also their craving for admiration. These two qualities seem to have drawn her in opposite directions. While her marriage with Prince Charles was talked of she professed the greatest admiration for him, and gazed with rapture on a very bad portrait of her intended husband. But this did not prevent her from being attracted by the personal fascinations of the Duke of Suffolk, as Wolsey knew. When he negotiated the French alliance he had some difficulty in overcoming Mary's repugnance to an old husband; but she viewed the proposal in a business-like way, and was not indifferent to the position of Queen of France. She looked forward to a speedy widowhood, and extracted from Henry a promise that, if she undertook to marry for the first time to please him, she might choose her second husband to please herself. When Mary was free the hopes of the Duke of Suffolk revived, and Wolsey knowing this, chose him as the best instrument for clearing away the difficulties raised by Francis I., and bringing back Mary honourably to England.
Francis, on his side, used his knowledge of the current rumour to extract from Mary her confidences about Suffolk, and with this knowledge approached Suffolk as a friend. By alternately encouraging Suffolk and terrifying Mary he turned Wolsey's ambassador into an anxious lover. Still Wolsey trusted that Suffolk would the more bestir himself to bring Mary back, and would make such terms with Francis as would commend his suit to Henry. But Wolsey's enemies led Henry to make exorbitant demands, which Francis met by redoubling his persecution of Mary. At last she asked Suffolk to marry her, which he did in secret. After this Francis was free from any further need of conciliating Henry, who must take back his sister on any terms, and Wolsey was left to appease Henry as best he could. In April Mary and Suffolk returned to England, and in May the luckless pair were publicly married. Wolsey manfully befriended Suffolk in this matter, but the calculations of his diplomacy were hopelessly upset by private feelings and the rashness of passion.
However, Mary received part of her dowry and some of her jewels. Francis I. had no wish to quarrel with England, but only to make the best terms for himself. He was bent upon gathering laurels in Italy, and on 5th April renewed the alliance between France and England. This time, however, the treaty was little more than a truce, and many questions were left untouched; no mention was made of the return of Tournai, and the question of Mary's jewels was left undecided. Francis I. counted on keeping England quiet by an alliance which he formed at the same time with Ferdinand, while he won over the Flemish counsellors of Prince Charles, who betrothed himself to the infant daughter of Louis XII., Renée, a child of four.
Thus he had cleared the way for an expedition to Italy, where he longed to claim for France the Duchy of Milan, that had been won and lost by Louis XII. In July he set out contentedly, knowing that Henry was powerless to interfere. He treated England with neglect, and gave Henry no information of his movements. England looked on with growing jealousy while Francis crossed the Alps and in September defeated the Swiss mercenaries who held Milan in the name of the last Sforza Duke. The battle of Marignano (14th September) was a splendid success for Francis, who there beat back the Swiss infantry, hitherto considered invincible in Europe. The star of France had risen, and Francis could look round with proud superiority.
The princes of Europe were alarmed beyond measure at the completeness of the French success. They had looked with equanimity at the preparations of Francis, because they expected that he would be delayed, or, if he attacked the Swiss, would be defeated. But his rapid march soon convinced men that he was in earnest, and especially excited the fear of Pope Leo X., whose ingenious policy of being secretly allied with everybody was disturbed by this display of unexpected vigour. The alarm of the Pope was useful to Wolsey. It awakened him to the need of making the English king his friend, and fulfilling his desire to have Wolsey created cardinal. Wolsey had not ceased, through his agent, the Bishop of Worcester, to urge this point upon the Pope, and when Francis was well advanced on his road to Milan the pleadings of Wolsey were irresistible. "If the King of England forsake the Pope," wrote Wolsey to the Bishop of Worcester, "he will be in greater danger on this day two years than ever was Pope Julius." Leo X. had no wish to run the risks which the impetuous Julius II. faced with unbroken spirit. He prepared to keep himself supplied with allies to protect him against all emergencies, and on 10th September nominated Wolsey cardinal sole, a special mark of favour, as cardinals were generally created in batches at intervals.
Wolsey's creation was not popular in the Roman Court. Cardinal Bainbridge had been overbearing in manner and hasty in temper, and the English were disliked for their outspokenness. England was regarded as a political upstart, and Wolsey was considered to be a fitting emblem of the country which he represented. Moreover, the attitude of England in ecclesiastical matters was not marked by that subservience which the Papacy wished to exact, and many doubted the expediency of exalting in ecclesiastical authority an English prelate of such far-reaching views as Wolsey was known to hold. An official of the Roman Court gives the following account of the current opinion:—
"Men say that an English Cardinal ought not to be created lightly, because the English behave themselves insolently in that dignity, as was shown in the case of Cardinal Bainbridge just dead. Moreover, as Wolsey is the intimate friend of the king, he will not be contented with the Cardinalate alone, but, as is the custom of these barbarians, will wish to have the office of legate over all England. If this be granted the influence of the Roman Court will be at an end; if it be not granted the Cardinal will be the Pope's enemy and will favour France. But despite all this the Pope, in whose hands alone the matter was, created him Cardinal on the seventh of September."
This elevation of Wolsey was due to the strong expression of desire on the part of Henry, who further asked that legatine powers should be given to the new cardinal. This Leo refused for the present; he had done enough to induce Henry to enter into a secret league for the protection of the Church, which meant a convenient pretext for attacking Francis if he became too powerful in Italy. When this was arranged the red hat was sent to England, and its reception gave Wolsey an opportunity of displaying his love for magnificent ceremonial. On 17th November it was placed on his head by Archbishop Warham in Westminster Abbey.
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.
In fact Wolsey alone was responsible for the change of policy indicated by the French alliance. He had thoroughly carried the king with him; but he was well aware that his course was likely to be exceedingly unpopular, and that on him would fall the blame of any failure. Henry did not even inform his Council of his plans. He knew that they would all have been opposed to such a sudden change of policy, which could only be justified in their eyes by its manifest advantage in the end. Wolsey was conscious that he must not only conclude an alliance with France, but must show beyond dispute a clear gain to England from so doing.
Wolsey's difficulties were somewhat lessened by the birth of an heir to the French Crown in February 1518. France could now offer, as a guarantee for her close alliance with England, a proposal of marriage between the Dauphin and Henry's only daughter Mary. Still the negotiations cautiously went on while Wolsey drove the hardest bargain that he could. They were not finished till September, when a numerous body of French nobles came on a splendid embassy to London. Never had such magnificence been seen in England before as that with which Henry VIII. received his new allies. Even the French nobles admitted that it was beyond their power to describe. Wolsey entertained the company at a sumptuous supper in his house at Westminster, "the like of which," says the Venetian envoy, "was never given by Cleopatra or Caligula, the whole banqueting hall being decorated with huge vases of gold and silver." After the banquet a band of mummers, wearing visors on their faces, entered and danced. There were twelve ladies and twelve gentlemen, attended by twelve torch-bearers; all were clad alike "in fine green satin, all over covered with cloth of gold, undertied together with laces of gold." They danced for some time and then removed their masks, and the evening passed in mirth. Such were the festivities of the English Court, which Shakespeare has reproduced, accurately enough, in his play of Henry VIII.
But these Court festivities were only preliminary to the public ceremonies whereby Wolsey impressed the imagination of the people. The proclamation of the treaty and the marriage of the Princess Mary by proxy were both the occasions of splendid ceremonies in St. Paul's Cathedral. The people were delighted by pageantry and good cheer; the opposition of old-fashioned politicians was overborne in the prevailing enthusiasm; and men spoke only of the triumph of a pacific policy which had achieved results such as warfare could not have won. Indeed, the advantages which England obtained were substantial. France bought back Tournai for 600,000 crowns, and entered into a close alliance with England, which cut it off from interference in the affairs of Scotland, which was included in the peace so long as it abstained from hostilities. But more important than this was the fact that Wolsey insisted on the alliance between France and England being made the basis of a universal peace. The Pope, the Emperor, the King of Spain, were all invited to join, and all complied with the invitation.
None of them, however, complied with goodwill, least of all Pope Leo X., whose claim to be the official pacifier of Europe was rudely set aside by the audacious action of Wolsey. Leo hoped that the bestowal of a cardinal's hat had established a hold on Wolsey's gratitude; but he soon found that he was mistaken, and that his cunning was no match for Wolsey's force. No sooner had Wolsey obtained the cardinalate than he pressed for the further dignity of papal legate in England. Not unnaturally Leo refused to endow with such an office a minister already so powerful as to be almost independent; but Wolsey made him pay for his refusal. Leo wanted money, and the pressure of the Turk on Southern Europe lent a colour to his demand of clerical taxation for the purposes of a crusade. In 1517 he sent out legates to the chief kings of Christendom; but Henry refused to admit Cardinal Campeggio, saying that "it was not the rule of this realm to admit legates à latere." Then Wolsey intervened and suggested that Campeggio might come if he would exercise no exceptional powers, and if his dignity were shared by himself. Leo was forced to yield, and Campeggio's arrival was made the occasion of stately ceremonies which redounded to Wolsey's glorification. Campeggio got little for the crusade, but served to grace the festivities of the French alliance, and afterwards to convey the Pope's adhesion to the universal peace. Wolsey had taken matters out of the Pope's hand, and Leo was driven to follow his lead with what grace he could muster. Perhaps as he sighed over his discomfiture he consoled himself with the thought that the new peace would not last much longer than those previously made: if he did, he was right in his opinion.
CHAPTER IV
THE FIELD OF THE CLOTH OF GOLD
1518-1520
The object of Wolsey's foreign policy had been attained by the universal peace of 1518. England had been set up as the mediator in the politics of Europe. The old claims of the empire and the papacy had passed away in the conflict of national and dynastic interests, in which papacy and empire were alike involved. England, by virtue of its insular position, was practically outside the objects of immediate ambition which distracted its Continental neighbours; but England's commercial interests made her desirous of influence, and Henry VIII. was bent upon being an important personage. It was Wolsey's object to gratify the king at the least expense to the country, and so long as the king could be exalted by peaceful means, the good of England was certainly promoted at the same time. The position of England as the pacifier of Europe was one well qualified to develop a national consciousness of great duties to perform; and it may be doubted if a country is ever great unless it has a clear consciousness of some great mission.
Wolsey's policy had been skilful, and the results which he had obtained were glorious; but it was difficult to maintain the position which he had won. It was one thing to proclaim a peace; it was another to contrive that peace should be kept. One important question was looming in the distance when Wolsey's peace was signed,—the succession to the empire on Maximilian's death. Unfortunately this question came rapidly forward for decision, as Maximilian died suddenly on 12th January 1519, and the politicians of Europe waited breathlessly to see who would be chosen as his successor.
The election to the empire rested with the seven electors, the chief princes of Germany; but if they had been minded on this occasion to exercise freely their right, it would have been difficult for them to do so. The empire had for a century been with the house of Austria, and Maximilian had schemed eagerly that it should pass to his grandson Charles. It is true that Charles was already King of Spain, Lord of the Netherlands, and King of Naples and Sicily, so that it seemed dangerous to increase still further his great dominions. But Charles urged his claim, and his great rival, Francis I. of France, entered the lists against him. Strange as it may seem that a French king should aspire to rule over Germany, Francis I. could urge that he was almost as closely connected with Germany as was Charles, whose interests were bound up with those of Spain and the Netherlands. In the face of these two competitors, it was hard for the electors to find a candidate of a humbler sort who would venture to draw upon himself the wrath of their disappointment. Moreover, the task of ruling Germany was not such as to attract a small prince. The Turks were threatening its borders, and a strong man was needed to deal with many pressing problems of its government. The electors, however, were scarcely guilty of any patriotic considerations; they quietly put up their votes for auction between Francis and Charles, and deferred a choice as long as they could.
Both competitors turned for help to their allies, the Pope and the King of England, who found themselves greatly perplexed. Leo X. did not wish to see French influence increased, as France was a dangerous neighbour in Italy; nor did he wish to see the empire and the kingdom of Naples both held by the same man, for that was against the immemorial policy of the Papacy. So Leo intrigued and prevaricated to such an extent that it is almost impossible to determine what he was aiming at. He managed, however, to throw hindrances in Wolsey's path, though we cannot be sure that he intended to do so.
Wolsey's plan of action was clear, though it was not dignified. He wished to preserve England's mediating attitude and give offence to no one; consequently, he secretly promised his help both to Charles and Francis, and tried to arrange that each should be ignorant of his promises to the other. All went well till Leo, in his diplomatic divagations, commissioned his legate to suggest to Henry VIII. that it might be possible, after all, to find some third candidate for the empire, and that he was ready to try and put off the election for that purpose, if Henry agreed. Henry seems to have considered this as a hint from the Pope to become a candidate himself. He remembered that Maximilian had offered to resign the empire in his favour, but he forgot the sufficient reasons which had led him to dismiss the proposal as fantastic and absurd. His vanity was rather tickled with the notion of rivalling Charles and Francis, and he thought that if the Pope were on his side, his chances would be as good as theirs.
We can only guess at Wolsey's dismay when his master laid this project before him. Whatever Wolsey thought, he knew that it was useless to offer any opposition. However much he might be able to influence the king's opinions in the making, he knew that he must execute them when they were made. If Henry had made up his mind to become a candidate for the empire, a candidate he must be. All that could be done was to prevent his determination from being hopelessly disastrous. So Wolsey pointed out that great as were the advantages to be obtained by gaining the empire, there were dangers in being an unsuccessful candidate. It was necessary first to make sure of the Pope, and then to prosecute Henry's candidature by fair and honourable means. Francis was spending money lavishly to win supporters to his side; and Charles was reluctantly compelled to follow his example lest he should be outbid. It would be unwise for Henry to squander his money and simply raise the market price of the votes. Let him make it clear to the greedy Germans that they would not see the colour of England's money till the English king had been really elected.
So Wolsey sent the most cautious instructions to his agent in Rome to see if the Pope would take the responsibility of urging Henry to become a candidate; but Leo was too cautious, and affected not to understand the hint. Then in May, Pace, who was now the king's secretary, was sent to Germany to sound the electors with equal care. He was to approach the electors who were on Francis's side, as though Henry were in favour of Francis, and was to act similarly to those who were in favour of Charles; then he was to hint cautiously that it might be well to choose some one more closely connected with Germany, and if they showed any acquiescence, was to suggest that Henry was "of the German tongue," and then was to sing his praises. Probably both Pace and Wolsey knew that it was too late to do anything serious. Pace reported that the money of France and Spain was flowing on all sides, and was of opinion that the empire was "the dearest merchandise that ever was sold," and would prove "the worst that ever was bought to him that shall obtain it." Yet still he professed to have hopes, and even asked for money to enter the lists of corruption. But this was needless, as the election at last proceeded quickly. The Pope came round to the side of Charles as being the least of two evils, and Charles was elected on 28th June.
Thus Wolsey succeeded in satisfying his master's demands without committing England to any breach with either of her allies. Henry VIII. could scarcely be gratified at the part that he had played, but Wolsey could convince him that he had tried his best, and that at any rate no harm had been done. Though Henry's proceedings were known to Francis and Charles, there was nothing at which they could take offence. Henry had behaved with duplicity, but that was only to be expected in those days; he had not pronounced himself strongly against either. The ill-will that had long been simmering between Charles V. and Francis I. had risen to the surface, and the long rivalry between the two monarchs was now declared. Each looked for allies, and the most important ally was England. Each had hopes of winning over the English king, and Wolsey wished to keep alive, without satisfying, the hopes of both, and so establish still more securely the power of England as holding the balance of the peace of Europe.
Wolsey's conduct in this matter throws much light on his relations to the king, and the method by which he retained his influence and managed to carry out his own designs. He appreciated the truth that a statesman must lead while seeming to follow—a truth which applies equally to all forms of government. Wolsey was responsible to no one but the king, and so had a better opportunity than has a statesman who serves a democracy to obtain permission to carry out a consecutive policy. But, on the other hand, he was more liable to be thwarted and interrupted in matters of detail by the interference of a superior. Wolsey's far-seeing policy was endangered by the king's vanity and obstinacy; he could not ask for time to justify his own wisdom, but was forced to obey. Yet even then he would not abandon his own position and set himself to minimise the inconvenience. It is impossible to know how often Wolsey was at other times obliged to give way to the king and adopt the second-best course; but in this case we find clear indications of the process. When he was driven from his course, he contrived that the deviation should be as unimportant as possible.
Wolsey's task of maintaining peace by English mediation was beset with difficulties now that the breach between Francis I. and Charles V. was clearly made. It was necessary for England to be friendly to both, and not to be drawn by its friendliness towards either to offend the other. In the matter of the imperial election English influence had been somewhat on the side of Charles, and Francis was now the one who needed propitiation. The treaty with France had provided for a personal interview between the two kings, and Francis was anxious that it should take place at once. For this purpose he strove to win the good offices of Wolsey. He assured him that in case of a papal election he could command fourteen votes which should be given in his favour. Moreover, he conferred on him a signal mark of his confidence by nominating him his plenipotentiary for the arrangements about the forthcoming interview. By this all difficulties were removed, and Wolsey stood forward before the eyes of Europe as the accredited representative of the kings of England and France at the same time. It is no wonder that men marvelled at such an unheard-of position for an English subject.
But nothing that Francis had to give could turn Wolsey away from his own path. No sooner did he know that the French interview was agreed upon than he suggested to Charles that it would be well for him also to have a meeting with the English king. The proposal was eagerly accepted, and Wolsey conducted the negotiations about both interviews side by side. Rarely did two meetings cause such a flow of ink and raise so many knotty points. At last it was agreed that Charles should visit Henry in England in an informal way before the French interview took place. It was difficult to induce the punctilious Spaniards to give way to Wolsey's requirements. It was a hard thing for one who bore the high-sounding title of Emperor to agree to visit a King of England on his own terms. But Wolsey was resolute that everything should be done in such a way as to give France the least cause of complaint. When the Spanish envoys objected to his arrangements or proposed alterations, he brought them to their bearings by saying, "Very well; then do not do it and begone." They were made to feel their dependence on himself. The interview was of their seeking, and must be held on terms which he proposed, or not at all. This, no doubt, was felt to be very haughty conduct on Wolsey's part; but he had set on foot the scheme of this double interview, by which Henry was to be glorified and England's mediatorial position assured. It was his business to see that his plan succeeded. So he turned a deaf ear to the offers of the Spanish ambassadors. He was not to be moved by the promise of ecclesiastical revenues in Spain. Even when the influence of Spain was proffered to secure his election to the Papacy, he coldly refused.
It has been said that Wolsey was open to bribes, and his seemingly tortuous policy has been accounted for by the supposition that he inclined to the side which promised him most. This, however, is an entire mistake. Wolsey went his own way; but at the same time he did not disregard his personal profit. He was too great a man to be bribed; but his greatness entailed magnificence, and magnificence is expensive. He regarded it as natural that sovereigns who threw work upon his shoulders should make some recognition of his labours. This was the custom of the time; and Wolsey was by no means singular in receiving gifts from foreign kings. The chief lords of Henry's Court received pensions from the King of France; and the lords of the French Court were similarly rewarded by Henry. This was merely a complimentary custom, and was open and avowed. Wolsey received a pension from Francis I., and a further sum as compensation for the bishopric of Tournai, which he resigned when Tournai was returned to France. In like manner, Charles V. rewarded him by a Spanish bishopric; but Wolsey declined the office of bishop, and preferred to receive a fixed pension secured on the revenues of the see. This iniquitous arrangement was carried out with the Pope's consent; and such like arrangements were by no means rare. They were the natural result of the excessive wealth of the Church, which was diverted to the royal uses by a series of fictions, more or less barefaced, but all tending to the weakening of the ecclesiastical organisation. Still the fact remains that Wolsey thought no shame of receiving pensions from Francis and Charles alike; but there was nothing secret nor extraordinary in this. Wolsey regarded it as only obvious that his statesmanship should be rewarded by those for whom it was exercised; but the Emperor and the King of France never hoped that by these pensions they would attach Wolsey to their side. The promise by which they tried to win him was the promise of the Papacy; and to this Wolsey turned a deaf ear. "He is seven times more powerful than the Pope," wrote the Venetian ambassador; and perhaps Wolsey himself at this time was of the same opinion.
Meanwhile Francis was annoyed when he heard of these dealings with Charles, and tried to counteract them by pressing for an early date of his meeting with Henry VIII. It is amazing to find how large a part domestic events were made to play in these matters of high policy when occasion needed. Francis urged that he was very anxious for his queen to be present to welcome Katharine; but she was expecting her confinement, and if the interview did not take place soon she would be unable to appear. Wolsey replied with equal concern for family affairs, that the Emperor was anxious to visit his aunt, whom he had never seen, and Henry could not be so churlish as to refuse a visit from his wife's relative. Katharine, on her side, was overjoyed at this renewal of intimacy with the Spanish Court, to whose interests she was strongly attached, and tried to prevent the understanding with France, by declaring that she could not possibly have her dresses ready under three months. In her dislike of the French alliance Queen Katharine expressed the popular sentiment. The people had long regarded France as the natural enemy of England, and were slow to give up their prejudices. The nobles grew more and more discontented with Wolsey's policy, which they did not care to understand. They only saw that their expectations of a return to power were utterly disappointed; Wolsey, backed by officials such as Pace, was all-powerful, and they were disregarded. Wolsey was working absolutely single-handed. It is a remarkable proof of his skill that he was able to draw the king to follow him unhesitatingly, at the sacrifice of his personal popularity, and in spite of the representations of those who were immediately around him.
Moreover, Wolsey, in his capacity of representative of the Kings of England and France, had in his hands the entire management of all concerning the coming interview. He fixed the place with due regard to the honour of England, almost on English soil. The English king was not to lodge outside his own territory of Calais; the spot appointed for the meeting was on the meadows between Guisnes and Ardres, on the borderland of the two kingdoms. Wolsey had to decide which of the English nobles and gentry were to attend the king, and had to assign to each his office and dignity. The king's retinue amounted to nearly 4000, and the queen's was somewhat over 1000. A very slight knowledge of human nature will serve to show how many people Wolsey must necessarily have offended. If the ranks of his enemies were large before, they must have increased enormously when his arrangements were made known.
Still Wolsey was not daunted, and however much every one, from Francis and Charles, felt aggrieved by his proceedings, all had to obey; and everything that took place was due to Wolsey's will alone. The interview with Charles was simple. On 26th May 1520 he landed at Dover, and was met by Wolsey; next morning Henry rode to meet him and escort him to Canterbury, which was his headquarters; on the 29th Charles rode to Sandwich, where he embarked for Flanders. What subjects the two monarchs discussed we can only dimly guess. Each promised to help the other if attacked by France, and probably Henry undertook to bring about a joint-conference of the three sovereigns to discuss their common interests. The importance of the meeting lay in its display of friendliness; in the warning which it gave to France that she was not to count upon the exclusive possession of England's goodwill.
No sooner was the Emperor gone than Henry embarked for Calais, and arrived at Guisnes on 4th June. We need not describe again the "Field of the Cloth of Gold," to furnish which the art of the Renaissance was used to deck mediæval pageantry. It is enough to say that stately palaces of wood clothed the barren stretch of flat meadows, and that every ornament which man's imagination could devise was employed to lend splendour to the scene. No doubt it was barbaric, wasteful, and foolish; but men in those days loved the sight of magnificence, and the display was as much for the enjoyment of countless spectators as for the self-glorification of those who were the main actors. In those days the solace of a poor man's life was the occasional enjoyment of a stately spectacle; and after all, splendour gives more pleasure to the lookers-on than to the personages of the show.
Most splendid among the glittering throng was the figure of Wolsey, who had to support the dignity of representative of both kings, and spared no pains to do it to the full. But while the jousts went on, Wolsey was busy with diplomacy; there were many points relating to a good understanding between France and England, which he wished to arrange,—the projected marriage of the Dauphin with Mary of England, the payment due from France to England on several heads, the relations between France and Scotland and the like. More important than these was the reconciliation of Charles with Francis, which Wolsey pressed to the utmost of his persuasiveness, without, however, reaching any definite conclusion. Charles was hovering on the Flemish border, ready at a hint from Wolsey to join the conference; but Wolsey could find no good reasons for giving it, and when the festivities came to an end on 24th June, it might be doubted if much substantial good had resulted from the interview. No doubt the French and English fraternised, and swore friendship over their cups; but tournaments were not the happiest means of allaying feelings of rivalry, and the protestations of friendship were little more than lip-deep. Yet Wolsey cannot be blamed for being over-sanguine. It was at least a worthy end that he had before him,—the removal of long-standing hostility, the settlement of old disputes, the union of two neighbouring nations by the assertion of common aims and common interests. However we may condemn the methods which Wolsey used, at least we must admit that his end was in accordance with the most enlightened views of modern statesmanship.
When Henry had taken leave of Francis, he waited in Calais for the coming of Charles, whose visit to England was understood to be merely preliminary to further negotiations. Again Henry held the important position; he went to meet Charles at Gravelines, where he stayed for a night, and then escorted Charles as his guest to Calais, where he stayed from 10th to 14th July. The result of the conference was a formal treaty of alliance between the two sovereigns, which Charles proposed to confirm by betrothing himself to Henry's daughter Mary. As she was a child of four years old, such an undertaking did not bind him to much; but Mary was already betrothed to the Dauphin, while Charles was also already betrothed to Charlotte of France, so that the proposal aimed at a double breach of existing relationships and treaties. Henry listened to this scheme, which opened up the way for further negotiation, and the two monarchs parted with protestations of friendship. It was now the turn of Francis to hang about the place where Henry was holding conference with his rival, in hopes that he too might be invited to their discussions. He had to content himself with hearing that Henry rode a steed which he had presented to him, and that his face did not look so contented and cheerful as when he was on the meadows of Guisnes. In due time he received from Henry an account of what had passed between himself and the Emperor. Henry informed him of Charles's marriage projects, and of his proposal for an alliance against France, both of which Henry falsely said that he had rejected with holy horror.
Truly the records of diplomacy are dreary, and the results of all this display, this ingenious scheming, and this deceit seem ludicrously small. The upshot, however, was that Wolsey's ideas still remained dominant, and that the position which he had marked out for England was still maintained. He had been compelled to change the form of his policy, but its essence was unchanged. European affairs could no longer be directed by a universal peace under the guarantee of England; so Wolsey substituted for it a system of separate alliances with England, by which England exercised a mediating influence on the policy of the two monarchs, whose rivalry threatened a breach of European peace. He informed Francis of the schemes of Charles, that he might show him how much depended on English mediation. He so conducted matters that Charles and Francis should both be aware that England could make advantageous terms with either, that her interests did not tend to one side rather than the other, that both should be willing to secure her goodwill, and should shrink from taking any step which would throw her on the side of his adversary. It was a result worth achieving, though the position was precarious, and required constant watchfulness to maintain.