On the 3rd of February, 1533, the Bailly had reached Boulogne on his way to England.

From Calais to Dover was then, as now, the more frequented passage; but Boulogne being French territory, it sometimes happened that Frenchmen selected that route in preference to the English one by Calais. On arriving at Dover the ordinary traveller proceeded on horseback by Canterbury and Rochester to Gravesend, whence the journey was generally continued by water to London.

Occasionally, however, as with Chaucer’s pilgrims in the opposite direction, the entire journey from Canterbury to London was accomplished by road. This was especially the case if an official reception was intended, when a cavalcade of notabilities would be sent out from London to meet the arriving stranger and escort him to the city. On important occasions the welcoming cortége went the whole way to Dover. Such was the case in 1527, on the arrival of the great embassy conducted by Montmorency, Jean Du Bellay, and the Chancellor of Alençon.⁠[132] But even when lesser magnates were expected, much ceremony was observed in their reception, if demanded by their office. Lodovico Falier, the incoming Venetian ambassador in 1528, “was met first of all at a distance of eight miles from the city by the ambassador Venier⁠[133] and all the Venetians; then, a little in advance, by a knight privy councillor, with a good number of horsemen; and thirdly by another privy councillor, an LL.D.; who all, one by one, paid the usual compliments in Latin in the name of the King and Cardinal, on receiving him, and he performed the like office by them in reply.” He next met “the ambassadors from France, Milan, and Ferrara, and then the Grand Prior of St. John’s⁠[134] with a numerous retinue, he being a very great personage, the chief in London. They all accompanied him with very great honour to his lodging in the centre of the city, near that of the French ambassador,⁠[135] a very worthy person.”⁠[136]

If such was the reception bestowed upon the ambassador of Venice, it may be safely assumed that nothing less elaborate was prepared for Dinteville at a moment when Henry VIII. was specially anxious to show civility to France. It will be remembered, too, that the Bailly was already on friendly terms with the Weston family and with the Knights of St. John, which would add point to any part they might have to play in his official welcome.

Winding through the narrow streets and between the closely-constructed, gabled houses of the city of London, the cavalcade would presently reach the quarter where the high steeple of old St. Paul’s rose high above the surrounding buildings. But Dinteville’s journey was not yet ended. Like his friend, La Pommeraye, he had been given apartments in the royal palace of Bridewell.⁠[137] Passing through Ludgate and over the Fleet Bridge, the procession would now deflect southwards towards the Thames, and, descending by the western bank of the Fleet, in a line approximately represented by the modern Bridge Street, would draw rein before the castellated façade of Bridewell.

The palace stood a little back from the river, on the western angle formed by the junction of the Fleet with the Thames. The corresponding angle eastwards was occupied by the great monastery of the Black Friars. The city wall, which inclosed the latter, here curved abruptly to the north within the line of the Fleet, leaving that small stream and the royal house of Bridewell without its precincts.

Bridewell Palace was of long and irregular shape. The southern extremity, flanked by two corner towers, formed the main front towards the Thames; and was pierced by an entrance door abutting on the quay which separated the house from the river. The buildings ran back some distance along the western shore of the Fleet, and were divided into various groups by courts and gardens. The latter were of considerable dimensions, filling the opening on the east front overlooking the Fleet, and, on the other side, covering the whole space between the palace and the next street westwards running down to the Thames. The grounds had recently been greatly enlarged by a piece of land acquired from the Knights Hospitallers, containing no less than fifteen gardens, which were “thrown down and inclosed in the king’s great messuage or manor, called Bridewell.”⁠[138]

The original foundation was of very remote origin. The palace was built partly on the remains of an ancient castle, which in early days had formed the western bulwark of the city of London. Though occupied from time to time by various English sovereigns, from King John downwards, it had fallen much out of repair when Henry VIII, took it in hand and rebuilt it for the reception of Charles V. in 1522. After all, however, the Emperor occupied apartments in the adjacent monastery of the Black Friars. His suite only were lodged in the new palace, a covered bridge being thrown across the Fleet, and an aperture pierced in the city wall to give free access to the Emperor’s quarters.

Henry VIII. frequently resided at Bridewell, which is associated with several interesting historical events. Hither, in 1528, Cardinal Campeggio, ill with gout and fever, was carried through pouring rain, when deputed to hear the divorce case, Wolsey riding at his side. The palace on this occasion was “superbly decorated and filled with princes, prelates and noblemen.”⁠[139] The following year, 1529, Henry VIII. and Katherine of Aragon were again at Bridewell, when the same interminable question was being argued in the great hall of the Black Friars. After the fall of Wolsey and sequestration of his property, the king preferred York Place,⁠[140] the confiscated residence of the see of York, which was now incorporated with the Palace of Westminster. He could therefore well afford to place Bridewell at the disposal of any foreign ambassador to whom he desired to show peculiar favour.

It is amusing to find amongst Dinteville’s first proceedings on his arrival in England, the importation of “thirty tuns of Gascon wine,” the claret of to-day, which was conveyed to London by a ship called the “Edmund,” of Lynn.⁠[141]

Whether going westwards to visit the king at Westminster or eastwards to see him at Greenwich, the river was the high-road by which the Bailly of Troyes would reach his destination. The Thames was the main artery of the traffic of London. Its busy wharves, laden with merchandise, each with a flight of wooden steps descending to the water, the varied craft which plied upon its surface, the many signs which announced the great commercial centre, excited much interest in the minds of foreigners.

“London,” writes one of them,⁠[142] “... is the residence of the ambassadors and merchants; it is a very notable city situated on the Thames, a magnificent river navigable for vessels of any burden, sixty miles from the sea, and with a very strong tide. This river is convenient for trade, embellishing the city, and rendering it cheerful, and over it is a very large stone bridge.⁠[143] London contains many houses on either side of the river and two large churches of extreme beauty, in one of which the present king’s father is buried.⁠[144] In various parts of the city there are many palaces of divers citizens and merchants, but the larger ones and the most superb are on the river, the owners being the chief personages of the kingdom. Besides the two belonging to the king,⁠[145] and one to the queen, the three dukes,⁠[146] the two marquises⁠[147] and several bishops, have mansions there, each of them worth 12,000 crowns, with very delightful gardens.

“The population of London is immense and comprises many artificers. The houses⁠[148] are in very great number, but ugly, and half the materials of wood, nor are the streets wide. In short, I am of opinion, all things considered, that it is a very rich, populous, and mercantile city, but not beautiful....”

When an ambassador was invited to court, the king’s bargeman was entrusted with the task of providing a boat, with eight or ten oars, at the king’s expense. The guest was thus rapidly conveyed “from Greenwich to York Place, Bridewell, and Westminster,” or whatever might be the point of destination on the Thames. The charges made on these occasions are still on record. One entry notes that “John Johnson, master of the king’s barge, for conveying the French ambassador from London to Greenwich and back in a boat of ten oars,” paid “each rower 8d., and the master 16d., with 12d. for the hire of the boat.”⁠[149]

The king had been eagerly expecting the arrival of the new ambassador, being anxious to hear the report of Cardinals Tournon and Grammont from Italy, before replying to a recently received Papal despatch. Montpesat, who was awaiting the Bailly before departing himself, was even urged to send a special messenger to hurry his successor.⁠[150]

Parliament was, in 1533, opened by the king on the 4th February. A state attendance followed at the House of Lords, to which several of the foreign representatives were bidden. A day or two later, the Papal Nuncio and the French ambassador were invited by the king to be present at a sitting of the Commons. This time Montpesat, who left a few days later, was accompanied by Dinteville, who had just arrived. On leaving the Commons, the two Frenchmen, the Papal Nuncio, and the Duke of Norfolk, with others of the Council, were “sumptuously banqueted” at the house of Sir William Fitzwilliam, Treasurer of the Household. After dinner the Nuncio had hoped to have audience of the king; but he was put off till the next day, in order that Henry might first hear what the Bailly of Troyes had to communicate.⁠[151]

No doubt the report given by the latter was satisfactory to the king. Early in January the two French Cardinals had joined the meeting at Bologna between Pope and Emperor. Dinteville had been instructed to inform Henry VIII. that their presence had produced an excellent effect. As a consequence of their persuasions, Clement had consented to come to an interview with Francis, planned by the two kings when at Calais. It was hoped that by this means some good conclusion might be arrived at in the affair of the King of England. For the present, however, his Holiness desired that the project might be kept secret. The prospect of an alliance between his niece and a son of the King of France had doubtless contributed to elicit these dulcet accents from the Pope. A further factor probably lay in his desire to draw both kings into an Italian league then forming, with the co-operation of the Emperor, against the Turk. To this, however, Francis declined his assent.⁠[152] Henry accordingly excused himself, in like manner, in the interview which now took place with the Nuncio.⁠[153] Venice, it may be added, at this moment allied with France and England, gave a similar reply.

Yet, at the very moment when the Pope appeared to be in so affable a mood he had but recently issued a brief threatening the King of England with excommunication in case he should persist in putting away his first wife and entering into a new contract.⁠[154] Meanwhile, in January, 1533, Henry had secretly wedded Anne Boleyn. The King of France, on his side, full of the project of marrying his second son, Henri, Duke of Orleans, to the Pope’s niece, Catherine de’ Medici, was absorbed in the achievement of his own ends. That marriage, and indeed the proposed interview itself, so Henry VIII. had understood, were to be held out as a reward to Clement only if he acted as the two kings wished in the matter of the divorce. The alliance of a Medici with a son of the King of France was considered a sufficiently tempting bait. But Francis saw in the bribe a means of drawing the Pope away from the Emperor, and quietly pursued his plans without too much care for the real or supposed condition. To Clement, apart from the brilliancy of such a marriage for his niece, it offered a way of escape from all his difficulties, supposing he could slip out of the hampering condition relating to the King of England’s divorce, and thus avoid displeasure to the Emperor. Could he unite on his side both Francis and Charles, he would be released from the painful position he had so long occupied of a puppet tossed to and fro between the alternate threats and caresses of the two great continental powers. The danger of a schism in France would be averted. The friendship between England and France would be much modified, if not altogether broken. To accomplish all this, however, it would be necessary to offer a substantial inducement to the King of France, who was closely bound to the English king. Clement therefore entered into a secret agreement, as part of the marriage contract, by which Francis was to acquire, by cession or conquest, certain portions of Italian territory, including the Duchy of Milan—that Fata Morgana for whose possession so much French blood and treasure had already been expended in vain.⁠[155]

It will thus be seen that each party concerned was playing a double game, excepting the King of England. Whatever view be taken of his conduct, he at least made no attempt to shuffle the cards beneath the table.

Meanwhile, glad to avail himself of the apparently softened mood of the Pope to minimize the effect of the brief on his own subjects, Henry lavished attentions on the Nuncio in England, in order that all the world might see how amicable were his relations with the Papacy.

Such was the anomalous position of things when the Bailly of Troyes began his residence in England. The history of the period has been sifted and re-sifted by the most capable hands. It is not intended to dwell on it here at greater length than is indispensable to the good understanding of the public career of Dinteville, and of the task committed to his charge.

In the intervals of official business the French ambassador no doubt found plenty of time to cultivate his private tastes. It would be interesting to know how and where he first became acquainted with the works of Hans Holbein, and was fired by the desire to sit to that painter. The channels are numerous through which this may have taken place. Several of Holbein’s early patrons, such as Warham, Archbishop of Canterbury, and Sir Henry Guildford, Comptroller of the Household, had indeed passed away since Dinteville’s first visit to England in 1531. But Sir Thomas More, the first and most conspicuous protector of the artist, yet remained. Nicolas Kratzer, too, the king’s astronomer, had been painted by him in 1528. In a small society, such as that of the Court of Henry VIII., it would have been difficult for anyone interested in art to overlook a painter of the merit of Hans Holbein. The Duke of Norfolk, and many others who ultimately sat to him, such as Thomas Cromwell, Earl of Essex, Sir William Fitzwilliam, and Dr. Buttes, the king’s physician, were acquaintances of Dinteville’s, and, though their portraits belong to a later date, any one of them may have been instrumental in bringing ambassador and painter together. Norfolk, especially, was on friendly terms with the Bailly. The Duke corresponded with Montmorency, the French statesman who found most favour in England at this period, and doubtless for this reason extended special kindness to the cousin and protégé of his French friend. Again, the Duke of Norfolk was intimately acquainted with Sir Thomas More, and a welcome guest at his house. More was now living in retirement at Chelsea, but it does not seem unlikely that by the Duke’s introduction, or otherwise, Dinteville may have known him.⁠[156] His house had long been the home of that type of learning with which the ambassador was familiar through the French humanists. The fame of its hospitality extended far beyond the boundaries of England. As Roman Catholics, desiring liberal reforms of discipline but not of dogma, the two men would also have much in common. If the Bailly of Troyes saw at the house in Chelsea, not only the noble single portrait of More, but the great family group which formed a corner-stone of Holbein’s fame, he may well have been struck with the genius that could produce such works.

Nicolas Kratzer, again, may have been the medium of the introduction. The keen interest in mechanics and geometry displayed by the Dinteville family, their eagerness about every new instrument, would have been certain to draw the ambassador to the society of this interesting individual.⁠[157]

Since Holbein’s return from Basle in 1532 his principal patrons had been the German merchants of the Steelyard. The privileges granted by English kings, from very early times, to the Hanseatic merchants of London, had raised their ancient community to great wealth and influence. The large scale of their commercial operations, and the facilities they enjoyed for obtaining foreign news, lent additional importance to their position. They had the right to appoint their own alderman.⁠[158] Tradition tells a good deal of the garden in Cosins Lane where men of all classes met for business or recreation, discussing their affairs over the delicacies imported by the merchants and the Rhenish wine the latter were here licensed to sell. Sir Thomas More was said to be the author of one of the couplets inscribed over the central door of their guildhall. Kratzer, no doubt, was often here; Holbein, as we have seen, painted many of the members. But apart from the social tradition, the Steelyard had another aspect which has hardly been sufficiently thrown into relief by writers on the subject. In the time of Henry VIII., when the knowledge of German was very rare amongst the English, the Hanseatic merchants were frequently called upon to take part in diplomatic negotiations as interpreters. Sometimes they were required to accompany an English envoy to the continent, sometimes to translate documents despatched to London. Insensibly they were thus drawn into the political sphere, in subordinate positions no doubt, but in a manner which accounts for the constant mention of their community in the historical papers of the time, and for a large measure of the consideration in which they were held. At a moment when it was the common policy of England and France to cultivate the friendship of the German Protestant princes, in opposition to the Emperor—princes who were fully as ignorant of foreign tongues as the English themselves—the services of the German merchants were naturally in special request. It is quite possible that here also there existed points of contact between Dinteville and the Steelyard.⁠[159]

But surmise grows wearisome even when based on evident probabilities. By whatever means the event was brought about, it is certain that the spring of 1533 found Dinteville and his “intime amy,” the Bishop of Lavaur, sitting to Holbein for the picture of the “Ambassadors.” George de Selve came over on a visit to the Bailly by the express permission of the King of France. For some reason his stay in England was to be concealed from Montmorency.⁠[160] It is therefore less than surprising that no notice of it occurs in any English records. To keep all knowledge of the event from Montmorency would demand a good deal of circumspection. The coming and going of messengers between the Grand Maître and the French ambassador in England was incessant. The leading Englishmen also, such as the Dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk, stood in frequent relations with the French side of the Channel.

At some time between February and Easter George de Selve arrived in England;⁠[161] at some time before the end of May he departed again.⁠[162] Whether any political object lay behind his visit to this country does not appear. There is no evidence that it was inspired by other motive than that of private friendship.

That much time and thought was bestowed on the composition and details of the great picture for which the two ambassadors⁠[163] were now sitting is certain. Regarded in connection with the public and private career of both Frenchmen, its parts work out with the precision of a Chinese puzzle. As it is proposed to devote a special division to the details of the picture,⁠[164] it is unnecessary to dwell upon them in the present chapter, but it is interesting to observe that they must have been to a large extent suggested by Dinteville himself. The Bishop of Lavaur, who was but a bird of passage, left England before the picture could have been much more than begun. Presumably his portrait was completed, as was frequently Holbein’s practice, from a drawing taken from life. But the Bailly, who wearied of his protracted stay in this country, and whose delicate health suffered from the climate, found no doubt in the progress of this picture a constant source of entertainment and interest. Many an hour which might otherwise have passed tediously, must have been devoted to thinking out with the painter its elaborate details. In no other way can the absolute harmony of its complex arrangements with the known life and tastes of the principal sitter be explained.

Early in May the French ambassador had a rather sharp attack of tertian fever. We hear of the Duke of Norfolk dining with him, and bringing the king’s physician, Dr. Buttes, to advise upon his case.⁠[165] Apparently the treatment prescribed was successful, for he soon shook off this particular illness.

Political events meanwhile were slowly progressing. The spring went by in negotiations relating to the settlement of the Scotch quarrel, to the proposed General Council, and, above all, to the coming interview between Francis I. and the Pope, where it was settled that the Duke of Norfolk should represent Henry VIII. The most important event which took place in England was the appointment of Cranmer to the see of Canterbury, and the king’s resolve that the English archbishop should now pass sentence on his case. The Bailly of Troyes implored Henry to keep this intention a secret until the Pope should have arrived at Nice. But this the king declined to do. He intended to have his new queen crowned with all the pomp of state at Whitsuntide, and wished the sentence made public at once.⁠[166]

The same courier who bore the despatch containing this information to the King of France, conveyed a letter from Dinteville to his brother, the Bishop of Auxerre. This document is so curious, both in its public and private aspect, that it shall here be given verbatim.

It seems that there was a question at this time of sending the Bishop of Auxerre on a second embassy to Rome, which explains the political commission the Bailly requests him to undertake. The case stood thus: Dinteville foresaw that the Pope would be very angry, and probably launch his thunderbolts at once against the King of England, on hearing that he had deliberately defied the Papal authority by causing sentence to be pronounced in England. If it could be said, however, that the marriage with Anne Boleyn had taken place by Clement’s own advice, secretly tendered some time previously to the French ambassador at Rome, the sting of the Papal anathema would naturally be removed, and an understanding might yet be arrived at between England and Rome. Hence the ambassador’s solicitude upon this point. For private reasons, however, he was much opposed to his brother’s return to Rome, if it could be avoided. The rest of the letter is interesting from the allusion to Selve’s visit, and from the light it throws on the Bailly’s private pursuits.

“Monsieur,

⁠[167]“J’ai receu vostre lettre escripte de Sommevoyre, par laquelle me semble que me mandez que autrefoys avez dit aux ambassadeurs de ce Roy, estans par de la, que aviez entendu aux propos de nostre Sainct Père, que pour l’affaire de ce dit Roy seroit meilleur le mariage fait que à faire. Si ainsi estoit, seroit une chose qui grandement luy pourroit servir. Je vous prie me mander, si d’adventure le pape ne se vouloit gouverner de ce costé de deça autrement que à point, si je pourroye bien advertir cedit Roy de ce dont m’en avez mandé, et si pareillement quand les choses viendront bien avant, vous luy vouldriez ramentevoir les propos qu’il vous en a tenu, en lui disant que des lors les communiquastez aux ambassadeurs de ce dit sieur Roy, voyant les affaires du Roy et les siennes n’estre que ung. S’il vous plaist sur cela me manderez vostre advis, lequel ferez bien de consulter ung petit avec nos amys, et par adventure, avec Monseigneur le Grant Maistre et Monsieur de Paris, car la chose est assés de consequence.

“Au reste, nous vous mercyons bien fort, Monsr. de la Tournelle,⁠[168] mon cousin et moy, des branches de vostre if, que nous soubhaittez, vous advisant que ceans sommes bien fourniz d’arcs de buttes et de maulvais archiers, et moy, pour le pire.

“Je vous prie m’envoyer le portraict du compas auvale duquel m’avez escript; car je suis bien empesché à comprendre la façon de laquelle il est fait.

“Je commence bien à me fascher en ce pays ycy, en attendant la fin des six moys, lesquelz escheurent le vingt deuxiesme juillet. Monsr. le grant maistre m’a promis que n’y demoureray que les dits six moys. Je prie à Dieu qu’il me tienne promesse. J’ay eu la fiebvre tierce et y a long temps qu’en suis guery. S’il vous plaist, divisez ung petit avec monsr. de Paris pour mon retour. Je vous advise bien que je suis le plus melancolicque fasché et fascheux ambassadeur que vistez oncques.

“Monsr. de Lavor m’a fait cest honneur que de me venir veoir, qui ne m’a esté petit plaisir. Il n’est point de besoing que Mr. le grant maistre en entende rien.⁠[169]

“J’ai eu des lettres d’Escoce de Monsr. de Beauvois.⁠[170] J’espère la trefve estre conclutte bien tost, et pour ung an, antre ces deux princes.⁠[171]

“Monsr. de Northfolrc partira d’icy à deux ou trois jours pour s’en aller trouver le Roy. Je vous prie luy faire congnoissance, car par deça son maistre vous tient en bon estime et ancor le m’a il dit depuis huict jours.

“Quant aux autours, de quoi me mandez, me semble, ne sera que despence de les envoyer, car ce Roy n’ayme point la vollerie, et si en y a tout plain en ce Royaulme.

“Je ne puis entendre que si allez a Rome que ce soit pour peu de temps. Et si vous m’en croyez, essayiez de tout vostre povoir faire que ung autre ayt la commission. Je vous prie, entendez bien à voz evocations.⁠[172] Je ne puis trouver bon que les laissez derriere.

“Il me tarde de savoir de vos nouvelles et que direz de la tour et des tableaux.

“Monsieur, je me recommande humblement à vostre bonne grace; prie à Dieu qui vous doint bonne vie et longue. A Londres, ce XXIIIᵉ. may.

“Il me fault faire une grosse depense pour se couronnement. J’en ay escript à monseigneur le grand maistre, luy suplient me faire donner quelque argent par le Roy, pour y frayer. J’en scaurois voulontiers des nouvelles. J’en ai escript aussy a Monsr. de Paris qui vous en pourra dire quelque chose et me y peult beaucoup ayder.

“Vostre humble serviteur

“Le Bailly.”⁠[173]

Dinteville’s wish with regard to his brother was fulfilled. The bishop was not sent back as ambassador to Rome. What answer he made as to the Papal remark inquired about, does not transpire. But it is curious that Chapuys himself speaks of a report circulated some time previously, to the effect that the Pope had given a “tacit consent” to Henry’s marriage with Anne Boleyn; and that, from the time of Dr. Bonner’s return from Rome, who was supposed to have been the bearer of this message, the Nuncio, had appeared indifferent to the cause of Queen Katherine.⁠[174]

The Bailly’s request for extra money to defray the expenses in which he was involved by the coronation, was acceded to. A French Treasury grant records a gift of 500 golden crowns made to Jean de Dinteville, to repay him for the extraordinary expenses incurred by him when ambassador with the King of England at the time of the coronation of Queen Anne Boleyn.⁠[175]