Four years had passed since the release of Francis I., when, in 1530, his two eldest sons were at last set free from their Spanish prison. This happy event was due in great measure to pecuniary assistance rendered by Henry VIII. towards the completion of the French king’s ransom. It was followed almost immediately by the marriage of Francis with Eleanor, Queen-Dowager of Portugal and sister of the Emperor, which took place in fulfilment of one of the clauses of the treaty of Madrid.

The following year, 1531, was a memorable one for the Dinteville brothers. It began with the death of their father, which took place in March, at the age of seventy-two. In accordance with the curious custom of the time, his body was buried at Polisy, his entrails at St. Jean-en-Grève at Paris, and his heart at Thennelières, where so much of his early married life had been passed.

A now solitary agricultural village, surrounded by blue plains which melt into the sky in uninterrupted expansion, Thennelières has little left to testify to the brilliant life of which it was once the scene. Of the Château formerly inhabited by Gaucher and Anne de Dinteville not one stone remains upon another, though the fosses still define the site on which it stood. But in the little thick-walled twelfth-century Church, the steeple and red roof of which rise at the end of the straggling village street, a few interesting relics of bygone days may yet be seen. Let into the pavement before the altar of the north transept—both transepts are of the sixteenth century—is a square black and white tablet, in the centre of which is a “bonne-foi”⁠[97] of flesh-coloured marble. Above this are two intertwined hearts of deeper hue, bearing respectively the initials “G” and “A.” The tablet is inscribed, “Galtero de Dinteville, Anna du Plesseys, chara conjonx, 1531.” A leaden box beneath this plaque is said yet to contain the shrivelled heart of Gaucher de Dinteville.

On the opposite side of the church is a stained glass window, in which is represented a bishop, accompanied by his patron saint, St. Francis. This ecclesiastic is no other than Francis I. de Dinteville, Bishop of Auxerre (the same who took part in the publication of the Custom of Troyes), whose portrait was here erected in 1524 by his nephew and namesake, the brother of Jean the “Ambassador.” The window has been badly restored, and the portrait is consequently inferior now to that of another window of similar subject in the Church of Montmorency.⁠[98]

The tombs at Polisy have perished with the chapel that contained them. But a quaint epitaph, in rhymed doggerel, which was placed to the memory of Gaucher de Dinteville, survives in a copy preserved at the Bibliothèque Nationale at Paris.

Immediately after the death of Gaucher de Dinteville, on the 26th March, 1531, his eldest son François, who had succeeded his uncle as Bishop of Auxerre, did homage in his own name, as well as on behalf of his mother, Anne du Plessis, and of his younger brothers and sisters, Jean, Guillaume, Gaucher, Charlotte, and Françoise, for the seigneurie of Lesches in Brie, which had formed part of the dowry of Anne du Plessis. All now inherited it jointly excepting Louis, the second brother, who was a Knight Hospitaller.⁠[103]

In his twenty-seventh year, Jean de Dinteville now found himself at the head of his house. His position at Court seemed to promise a brilliant future, which was further insured by the friendship of his cousin, Montmorency, the Admiral De Brion, the Du Bellay brothers, and other leaders of French politics. It is probable that at about this time he also succeeded to the Collar of St. Michael rendered vacant by the death of his father, who had been a Knight of the Order.⁠[104]

Nor were royal favours limited to Jean alone. The same edict that confirms his appointment as Governor to Charles, Duke of Angoulême, places his brother Guillaume, now Seigneur Deschenetz, in a like capacity about the person of the Dauphin, in succession to his father; and Gaucher, the youngest brother, Seigneur of Vanlay and Thennelières, in a similar position towards Henry, Duke of Orleans. Thus each of the three sons of Francis I. was entrusted to the special care of a member of the Dinteville family.

But all was not unchequered prosperity. In the July following the death of Gaucher the elder, another heavy blow fell upon the brothers. Louis de Dinteville, the Knight of St. John, died at Malta, at the age of twenty-eight; not without having already given promise of distinction similar to that attained by his brothers. He had been early made a Knight Commander and Seneschal of Rhodes, probably in the place of his uncle, Pierre de Dinteville. After the conquest of Rhodes in 1522, the homeless Knights at length, after many vicissitudes, found a permanent refuge at Malta, granted to them by Charles V. The Grand Master of the Order, Philippe de Villiers l’Isle-Adam, who signs himself “uncle” to Montmorency, and was, like him, a cousin of the Dinteville family, made a journey to Spain during the captivity of Francis I., in order to confer with him and with the Emperor on the future of the Order. Whether Louis de Dinteville accompanied L’Isle-Adam on this occasion is not known; but it is certain that in the winter of 1529 to 1530, he was sent as Ambassador of the Order to the Emperor Charles V., and conducted the negotiations which terminated in the cession of Malta, afterwards reporting in person to Montmorency, and probably to the French king, the successful termination of his mission.⁠[105]

The Order of St. John of Jerusalem was divided into seven “languages,” as the branches in various countries were technically called. The English language was suppressed soon after the Reformation, but it will be seen that the only record preserved in England of Jean de Dinteville’s first visit to this country sprang from the connection of his family with this illustrious Order.

The death of the Knight of St. John was not the only misfortune which now befell the family. The high favour in which they stood had, no doubt, awakened jealousies; and there were enemies ready to take advantage of any opportunity that might occur, to undermine their credit. Such an occasion shortly presented itself, and, unfortunately, in a shape which seems to have afforded some justification for the violent attacks made on the offender. The eldest brother, François, now Bishop of Auxerre, was accused of having inflicted a punishment of undue severity on a peasant belonging to his Abbey of Montierender, who had been guilty of poaching birds of prey suited to the favourite pastime of hawking. The Parliament of Paris, the first legal tribunal of the kingdom, was delighted to assert its authority in the teeth of the Crown, which had curtailed many of its ancient privileges, by attacking a man who owed his promotion to Court favour. The bishop was ordered to appear before it and to stand his trial, and things were beginning to look ugly when the powerful influence of Montmorency, combined with that of “Madame,” the king’s mother, to whom the bishop was chaplain, intervened on his behalf. The culprit was hurried away to the house of the Grand-Maître at Chantilly, and there kept in security until the storm blew over.⁠[106] It was settled by his protectors that he should be sent as ambassador to the Holy See in order to remove him for a time from the pursuit of his adversaries. The king, who had at first been very angry with his protégé, shortly afterwards issued a royal proclamation intended to give a milder complexion to the whole affair, and to serve as a preliminary to letting the proceedings drop.⁠[107] In the July following the bishop was despatched to Rome.

It is tempting to dwell for a moment on the personality of this prelate, perhaps the best known to history of all his family. Six years older than the Bailly of Troyes, the Bishop of Auxerre exerted a potent influence on the intellectual development of the younger brother. Nothing is more striking in the meagre records that have come down to us, than the constant proof they afford of the affection and community of tastes which united these two brothers. “Besides the liberal arts,” says the biographer of the bishop, “he was a connoisseur in mechanics, loving above all things painting, and having always some painters in his house.”⁠[108] Involuntarily Holbein’s presentment of the Bailly of Troyes rises before the imagination, so exactly do these words describe it.

But while the career of Jean de Dinteville is unclouded by any hint of blame, that of the Bishop of Auxerre is of a chequered character, in which light and shadow are almost equally distributed. Hot-tempered, and failing often in tact and discretion, his mental parts were yet coupled, to judge by the warm friendships he inspired, with considerable personal charm. Deeply attached to learning, keenly sensitive to the beautiful, he was a typical churchman of the Renaissance, as much layman as ecclesiastic. His love of sport, especially his passion for falconry, then at the height of fashion, are as oddly contrasted to his exaggerated asceticism and frugal diet, as the mermaids of his coat-of-arms to his pastoral staff.⁠[109]

Having learnt grammar at the College of Troyes, François de Dinteville proceeded to the University of Paris. Here he was a member of the College of Navarre, which, as the only one at that time providing lectures in divinity outside the walls of the Sorbonne, was popular with theologians of moderate views. Thence, probably with the object of studying civil law, the future bishop was sent to Poitiers; and, finally, to complete his training in both branches of jurisprudence, to the University of Padua.

No doubt this residence in Italy, at the crowning moment of the Renaissance, gave a definite stamp to his tastes in more ways than one.

On his return to France he was made Almoner to Louise of Savoy. Shortly after he was appointed Bishop of Riez, and suffragan to his uncle; upon whose death, in 1530, he was promoted to the see of Auxerre. He appeared well fitted, therefore, for the arduous duties he was now called upon to undertake as French ambassador to the Vatican, at the difficult moment of the divorce suit of Henry VIII.

The same year, 1531, witnessed the first mission of the Bailly of Troyes to England. The friendship between Henry VIII. and Francis I. was now growing apace. Besides the resident ambassadors at either Court, the coming and going of special envoys entrusted with messages it was not deemed prudent to commit to writing, had assumed great activity. Henry VIII. still clung to the hope of forcing Clement VII., through pressure from France, to annul his marriage with the Emperor’s aunt, Katherine of Aragon. The Pope, since the sack of Rome in 1527 more than ever the Emperor’s tool, caught at every straw to postpone a decision which must of necessity alienate from him one half of Europe or the other. Francis I., anxious for his own purposes to keep Henry at variance with the Emperor, saw in the divorce the most obvious means of doing so. He accordingly threw the whole weight of his influence on the side of the King of England.

Dinteville’s first visit to England, or the first of which we know, seems to have been a rapid errand of confidential nature. But, short as it was, it is likely that it formed the key to his future advancement, for the only English sentence relating to it which has been preserved has a decided flavour of success. It has been seen that an intimate connection existed between the Dinteville family and the Order of St. John of Jerusalem. Sir William Weston was at this time Prior of the English language. Dinteville, either now or later, was on friendly terms with a young Weston who had been at the University of Paris; but, in any case, seems to have been well known to the English knights of the Order when, in the late autumn of 1531, he arrived in London. On the 12th December Sir John Mablisteyn writes to Sir Giles Russell, “Mr. Tyntervile departed on the 3rd, having had good expedition with the king and his council.”⁠[110]

Meanwhile the Bishop of Auxerre, at Rome, was busily engaged in urging the cause of the divorce. Gilles de la Pommeraye, who was sent as resident ambassador to England within three weeks of the termination of the Bailly’s brief mission, supported it no less eagerly in London.⁠[111] La Pommeraye was on terms of intimacy with the Bishop of Auxerre; and the two friends agreed to communicate to each other, if necessary in cipher, whatever of importance might occur in their respective spheres of duty.⁠[112]

It is clear that, apart from questions of expediency, some members of the liberal party in France frankly ranged themselves with the King of England on this thorny subject. They saw that the interminable delays of the Pope were dictated only by self-interest, unworthy of the high office he was called upon to exercise. For that office they had a profound respect; for the personality of Clement VII., to judge by scattered utterances in the correspondence of the time, their feeling bordered on contempt. Henry VIII. had, it was considered, a right to an answer, whatever the tenour of that answer might be.

From this point of view, and as showing the charm the king could exercise when such was his good pleasure, a letter written at about this time by La Pommeraye to the Bishop of Auxerre has its curious side.

⁠[113] ... “Vous avez raison,” he says, “de me porter envie d’estre avec un si gentil Prince, car je pense que apres le Roy nostre maistre ne s’en trouva passé à deux cens ans, un de meilleur esprit, de meilleure grace ny plus magnanime que cestuy cy: et, à vous parler franchement, le dit Roy nostre maistre est obligé a luy du bon vouloir qu’il luy porte, dequoy je me sens grandement, car je suis traicté icy, non pas comme Ambassadeur, mais comme Prince du pays, logé en la maison⁠[114] dudict Sieur Roy, et quand je le veois veoir, toujours mangeant à sa table; et pource, ne vous esmerveillez si je vous conforte et prie de porter sa querelle....

“Mr. ce Prince a grand envie de chastier les Prestres de ce pays et ne leur laisser jouir de si grans privilleges qu’ils ont accoustumé, dont est cause le tort qu’on lui faict à Rome, qui est si grand que plus ne peust: c’est chose estrange que l’Empereur ait tant de pouvoir avec le Pape, qu’il soit par ce empesché de rendre raison et justice là où il la cognoist.”⁠[115]

The private letters of the ambassadors and other public characters to each other form an interesting commentary on the political events of the time. The Bishop of Auxerre, who, in spite of detractors, stood in high repute for learning, love of art, and distinguished office, had many such correspondents. Among these, to mention only a few conspicuous names, were Lazare de Baif, a classical scholar of some celebrity, who was now French ambassador at Venice; the Marquis de Saluce, who, after enjoying high favour, later became a traitor to the French Crown; and Philippe Villiers de L’Isle-Adam, Grand Master of Rhodes. Of lesser correspondence, none throws more light on the fortunes of the Dinteville brothers at this period than that of Balavoyne, or Belle Avoine, the Bishop of Auxerre’s steward in France, who collected his revenues, and sent him news of his family, during his absence at Rome.⁠[116]

These letters and those of Berthereau, the secretary of Montmorency, enable us to follow with some precision the movements of the Bailly of Troyes and his brothers during the year 1532. In the summer Francis I. made a tour in Brittany, prior to the annexation of that province to the Crown of France, taking with him the Dauphin François. The latter selected from among his gentlemen, to be his special attendant on this occasion, Guillaume, Seigneur Deschenetz. Jean de Dinteville and his brother Vanlay meanwhile remained with their respective charges, the Dukes of Angoulême and of Orleans, at the Court of Queen Eleanor. The plan was to spend Easter at Tours, and later to go to meet the king and dauphin at Nantes on their return from Brittany.⁠[117] The whole scheme was afterwards postponed for a few weeks, and came off with some modifications.

In May the Bailly had a slight attack of fever, an enemy that often troubled him, and consequently obtained leave to go home for awhile.⁠[118] He was keenly interested just now in a new tower and some pictures he was adding to Polisy, where his mother and unmarried sister resided with him. A little later he was staying at Plessis, the home, it will be remembered, of his mother’s family, when Fontaines, the page of the deceased Commander of Rhodes, Louis de Dinteville, was struck down with the plague. Happily, he recovered; but the Bailly and Vanlay, to avoid all risk of infection for the young princes, retired for a time to La Bourdaizière, the house of another connection of the family. Almost at the same moment, however, an illness which attacked the little Duke of Angoulême, but seems to have been only of passing severity, obliged Jean to leave his retreat and return to Court sooner than he had intended. Shortly after this, Balavoyne received from the Bailly casts of the features of the Dauphin and the Duke of Orleans, with the order to forward them to the Bishop of Auxerre. From these models their portraits were to be executed at Rome.⁠[119]

Thus the summer glided into autumn, which was to be distinguished by an event of unusual interest.

The meeting which took place at Calais between Henry VIII. and Francis I. in October, 1532, probably marks the culminating point of the friendship between the two kings. Though devoid of the excessive luxury which distinguished the interview of 1520, known as the Field of the Cloth of Gold, it was conducted with much pomp and magnificence. On the 21st October, Henry, from his town of Calais, and Francis, from the French territory of Boulogne, rode out to meet each other. Each king was followed by a splendid retinue. The festivities lasted for ten days, in the course of which the King of England was received by Francis at Boulogne, and returned the hospitality by entertaining the French King at Calais. Much is recorded of the gorgeous robes, flashing with rubies and diamonds, worn by the two sovereigns; of music, dancing, and feasting, of bull and bear baiting, games and wrestling, the latter, curiously enough, undertaken, on the French side, chiefly by priests. Valuable presents were given and received on either side. But the most welcome feature to the King of France of all these courtesies must have been the gift of 300,000 crowns made by Henry VIII. to the young princes. This sum represented the residue of the loan advanced by him for their father’s ransom, which he thus gracefully abandoned. Small wonder that Francis hastened to exhibit his gratitude by conferring on the Dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk, “comme aux deux estans plus près de la personne dudit roy d’Angleterre,” the royal order of St. Michael.⁠[120] Henry responded by bestowing the Garter on Montmorency and Brion.

But the main object of the meeting at Calais lay deeper than in the desire to exchange mutual civilities. Ostensibly for the purpose of concerting measures for the defence of Christendom against Solyman, and actually resulting in a treaty to that effect, it was planned, in the first place, to discuss a common line of policy directed against Charles V., in favour of the divorce and of certain objects that the French King had at heart. No doubt the “damned machinations and enterprises of the Turk”⁠[121]—with whom, be it noted, Francis I. stood on the most friendly terms at the very moment when these words were penned—served as an admirable cloak for these designs. No doubt also the Most Christian King was anxious to present to Clement VII. an appearance of devotion equal to that of his Imperial rival. The real purpose of the interview is, however, sufficiently clearly shown by the fact that no ambassadors were allowed to be present excepting such as were subjects of the two kings. Chapuys, the Imperial envoy in England, displayed much chagrin at this decree. The treaty was, in fact, so much waste paper, except for the purpose of making dupes; to which account Francis promptly turned it in his next dealings with the Pope.

The Bishop of Auxerre had received instructions to come from Rome, in order to be present at the Calais meeting, and to report on the negotiations he had been conducting at the Holy See. Letters addressed to him, however, at Rome, immediately after the interview, show that for some reason this plan fell through. His place was taken, at the interview, by the Cardinals Tournon and Grammont, who were shortly to succeed him at the Papal Court, and who received detailed instructions from both kings as to the part to be played by them with regard to the King of England’s suit.

But if the Bishop of Auxerre was absent, it can hardly be doubted that all his brothers took part in the festivities, in attendance upon their respective charges, the three French princes. Henry VIII. had expressed a special wish to see at Calais the children whom his liberality had helped to release from their Spanish prison. The Duke of Angoulême accompanied his two elder brothers to the royal interview, and on first meeting the King of England, after the Dauphin and the Duke of Orleans had expressed their gratitude to the king, the little boy addressed him in another form, “so sweetly and sagely, according to report, that he spoke like an angel; so that the English king again embraced him alone, kissing him several times.”⁠[122] Indeed, Henry treated all three with marked kindness. More than once in the annals of the proceedings he is mentioned as playing at tennis with the young princes, and it has been seen that it was to them he cancelled the debt due to him from the King of France.

Early in November Henry VIII., accompanied by Anne Boleyn, who, not yet queen, had shared the Calais fêtes as Marchioness of Pembroke, set sail for England. A new ambassador, Montpesat, returned with him, La Pommeraye’s mission being on the verge of conclusion. The fresh selection was probably made in consequence of Montpesat’s previous acquaintance with the country, and possibly, to some extent, with the language.⁠[123] At the outset he appeared hardly so successful as his predecessor. The reason of this, in the present temper of the king, was not far to seek. “Mons. de Montpesat, the French ambassador,” writes the indefatigable gossip, Chapuys, to his Imperial master, “has continually followed the king, and been in Court until yesterday.... The queen⁠[124] has been informed that the more La Pommeraye solicits the divorce, the more he (Montpesat) dislikes it. This is beginning to be perceived, for he has not obtained the favour of lodging in this town in the king’s house, which the other ambassador did.”⁠[125] It is, perhaps, rash to infer a recovery of royal favour from the gifts showered on the ambassador at his departure, which were probably a mere formality. In any case, his mission was of brief duration, and on its expiration Jean de Dinteville was appointed to take his place.

“The Bailly,” writes Balavoyne from Paris, on the 2nd December, 1532, to the Bishop of Auxerre at Rome, “has obtained leave of absence until Christmas, or if possible until Twelfth Night, by which time he must return to Court, and then immediately depart for England. Meanwhile he is going to visit Mademoiselle,⁠[126] and set his affairs in order.”⁠[127]

Just at the same time arrangements wee being made for the return of the Bishop of Auxerre. His enemies were again showing signs of restlessness, and Jean was eager that he should come back to confront them and to end their intrigues. The brothers therefore hailed the termination of the bishop’s embassy with joy.

On the 26th January, 1533, the Bailly writes to convey to his brother the express permission of Montmorency for his departure from Rome. After telling him of the instructions given to the Cardinals, Dinteville continues:

⁠[128]“En oultre m’a enchargé ledit Sgr. grand maistre expressément vous escrire que incontinent parties pourrez vous en venir. Je croy bien qu’il sera honneste dire à Dieu. Mais quelques remonstrances, pour service du Roy, ny aultres choses, qu’ilz leur dient, venez vous en, et vous serez le bien venue et receu, je vous en assure, non pas de moy, car ne me trouveres, pour ce que demain m’en pars; et espere, au plaisir de Dieu, trouveres, a vostre arrivée, voz evocations depeschees.”⁠[129]

La Pommeraye meanwhile had written to inquire how the Cardinals were behaving to his friend.

⁠[130]“Soyez asseuré” so runs his letter, “aumoings c’est ma fantaisie, qu’ils ne sont pas voz amys; mais la sagesse d’un homme aussi est de se tenir ferme en ses grans heurts. Je vous advertis bien qu’a l’endroit du maistre quant je suis party de la Cour vous estiez en aussi bonne grace comme eux. Suyvez ce que vous avez commancé et ne variez poinct pour aucune chose qu’ils vous puissent dire; et, moyennant ce que vous direz soit véritable, ne vous souciez du demeurant, car le patron est pour vous et trois des plus vaillans Champions.”⁠[131]

The frank and manly tone of this letter is a refreshing contrast to the diplomatic subtleties of much of the official correspondence of the time. The “master” and “patron” was of course Francis I. The “three champions” may probably be correctly interpreted as Montmorency, Brion and the Bishop of Paris.

La Pommeraye’s feeling with regard to the Cardinals was no doubt correct. Though a devout son of his Church, and a strong opponent of the Lutherans, the Bishop of Auxerre belonged to the liberal, anti-Spanish party in France. Cardinal Tournon, on the other hand, was one of the most violent of the extreme Catholic section. As such the two men, agreed in dogma, were opposed in politics—a position likely enough to engender personal animosity.