CHAPTER IV
Coronation of Queen Anne Boleyn, and Termination of the Bailly’s long Embassy To England

That auspicious day was now rapidly approaching. The very date, May 23, which saw the despatch of Dinteville’s letter, just quoted, was also that on which Cranmer pronounced the sentence that declared Henry VIII.’s marriage with Queen Katherine to be null and void. Less than a week later, the coronation festivities were inaugurated.

The pomp and pageantry of Anne Boleyn’s coronation have been so often described that it would be superfluous to dwell on them here, were it not for one specially interesting circumstance. There can be little doubt that the unsigned account of the proceedings printed by Camusat in his “Meslanges Historiques”⁠[176] is the actual report drawn up by Dinteville himself for Anne de Montmorency. One little sentence gives us the clue to the whole. The Grand Maître had written to the Bailly of Troyes asking for details of the ceremonies.⁠[177] In describing the distance traversed on foot by Anne Boleyn on the morning of her coronation, the writer states that the road might contain in length “autant de fois que le jardin de Chantilly.” It is hardly necessary to point out that Chantilly was the famous château of Anne de Montmorency.

The interest of possessing the Bailly’s own narrative of that wonderful scene, in which he himself played a conspicuous part, may perhaps be a sufficient excuse for glancing once again at its well-known details:

[178]“La Royne d’Angleterre,” says the writer, “partit de Grenevich le Jeudy⁠[179] environ les 4 heures après midy, et vint par eauë dans une barque raze, en façon de brigantin, laquelle estoit paincte de ses couleurs par dehors, avec plusieurs bannieres sur le haut de ladicte Barque; et estoient ses Dames et Damoiselles avec elle. Outre il y avoit cent ou six vingts autres semblables Barques qui l’accompagnoient toutes à la flote ensemble, et fort garnies de banieres et estendars. Ils avoient dressé ausdites Barques de petits masts subtils et bien haults, ou estoient attachez des cordages en grande quantité comme a gros Navire, lesquels cordages estoient tous garnis de petites baneroles de tafetas, et a mon advis d’or clinquant, car cela reluysoit fort contre le Soleil; et y avoit force tambourins, trompetes, flustes, et hauxbois; et vindrent depuis Grenevich en moins de demie heure jusques à la tour de Londres, ou toute l’artillerie mena grand bruict. Il fit tres beau veoir ceste arrivée, car outres les barques, je croy qu’il y avoit plus de deux cents petits bots qui tous venoient à la queuë et estoit toute la riviere couverte de basteaux.

“Le Vendredy la Royne ne bougea de son logis.

“Le Samedy environ cinq heures apres midy, ladicte Dame vestuë de ses habits royaux qui sont a la mode de ceux de France, ou peu s’en faut, monta en une litière couverte dedans et dehors de Satin blanc; laquelle estoit descouverte, et, dessus elle, l’on portoit un poisle de drap d’or; et apres venoient douze dames sur haquenées, lesquelles estoient toutes vestuës de drap d’or, et pareillement leurs dites haquenées garniës de mesme. Apres venoient douze Damoiselles sur haquenées toutes accoustrées de velour cramoisi. Apres venoit un Cheriot couvert de drap d’or avec son équipage de mesme. Audit Cheriot estoient seulement Madame de Norfort,⁠[180] et la mere de la Royne.⁠[181] Apres, trois Cheriots dorez ou estoient force Damoiselles; et derrière vingt ou trente autres sur haquenées vestuës de velouz noir. A l’entour de la Litière de la Royne estoit Mr. de Suffoc,⁠[182] qui pour ce jour là estoit Connestable [et le] frère de Mr. de Norfol Millor Grillam⁠[183] lequel servoit en la place de sondit frere de grand Mareschal et de grand Chambellan de ce Roiaume qui est office hereditaire. Devant eux marchoient deux hommes lesquels avoient deux grands bonnets fourrez d’hermines, quasi de la sorte du premier Huissier de Paris, lesquels l’on nommoit les Escuyers.

“Apres estoit l’Ambassadeur de France accompagné de l’Archevesque de Canterbery.⁠[184]

“Apres estoit celuy de Venise accompagné du Chancelier.⁠[185]

“Apres, plusieurs Evesques; et puis le reste des grands Seigneurs de ce Royaume, et Gentilzhommes, qui pouvoient estre environ de deux a trois cents.

“Et devant tous, marchoient les Marchants de France vestus de velouz violet avec une manche des couleurs de la Royne, leurs chevaux encaparassonez de tafetas violet avec quelques croix blanches.

“Par les carrefours il y avoit eschafaux ou jouoient quelques misteres, et fontaines jettans vin et par les ruës estoient tout les marchants arrangez sans bouger d’une place.”

In such procession the queen arrived at Westminster, where, after partaking of some wine, she retired to her apartments.

“Le Dimanche, au matin,” continues the report, “accompagnée de tous lesdits Seigneurs et Gentilhommes, [ladite Dame] alla a pied depuis son logis jusques à l’Eglise; le chemin par ou elle marchoit estoit tout couvert de drap, et pouvoit contenir ledit chemin en longueur autant de fois que le Jardin de Chantilly. Tous les Evesques et Abbez allerent querir ladite Dame accoustrez de leurs Mitres et ornements Pontificaux, et la conduirent jusques a l’Eglise, et apres avoir oüy une petite Messe, elle monta sur un eschafaut que l’on lui dressa au devant du grand Autel, lequel eschafaut estoit tout couvert de drap rouge; et a l’entour du lieu ou elle estoit assize, qui estoit d’avantage eslevë de deux marches, estoit couvert de tapis veluz. Et là fut le lieu ou se tint ladicte Dame durant le service apres avoir esté couronnée par l’Archevesque de Canturbery lequel luy bailla la Couronne et la sacra tout contre le grand Autel, puis paracheva l’office et la Messe de ladicte Coronation.

“Et estoit pour ce jour-la Mr. de Suffoc grand Maistre, tousjours pres de ladicte Dame, avec une grande verge blanche en la main: aussi y estoient aupres ledict Milord Grillam et le grand Chambellan. Derriere ladicte Dame estoient force Dames, Duchesses et Comtesses vestuës d’escarlatte, avec manteaux fourrez d’hermines, qui sont manteaux de Duchesses et Comtesses;⁠[186] et leurs chapeaux sur la teste. Pareillement les Ducz et Comtes avec beaucoup d’autres Chevaliers estoient vestus de robes d’escarlate fourrées d’hermines, de la façon quasi des premiers Presidents de Paris, avec leurs chaperons.

“Ladicte Coronation faicte, ladicte Dame fut conduitte comme ou venir, excepté des Evesques, en une grande salle⁠[187] qui estoit appareillée pour disner.”

There followed a long state dinner, served with great magnificence. The queen’s table was on a raised daïs. Cranmer alone, to whom she owed her final victory, is mentioned as having a seat at her table, though even he was placed “bien loing d’elle.” The greatest of the realm waited upon her in their furred robes.

“La salle est fort grande et fut sans presse, car il y avoit fort bon ordre, Au dessoubz dudit parquet il y avoit quatre grandes tables qui contenoient la longeur de ladicte salle,⁠[188] ou du hault costé estoient ceux de ce Royaume qui ont la charge des ports,⁠[189] et au dessoubz d’eux à la mesme table force Gentilshommes: a l’autre, aupres et du coste, les Archevesques, Evesques, le Chancelier, et plusieurs Comtes Chevaliers.⁠[190] Aux deux autres tables de l’autres coste de la salle, à celle du hault bout estoit le Maire de Londres accompagné de Messieurs les Eschevins: et à l’autre table estoient les Dames, Duchesses, Comtesses, et autres Dames et Damoyselles.

“Mr. de Suffolc estoit gorgiaisement accoustré avec force pierreries et perles, sur un coursier encaparaçonné de velours cramoysi; lequel a cheval se pourmenoit par toute la salle et a l’entour des tables. Aussi pareillement faisoit le Millord Grillam, et prenoit garde au service et a l’ordre. Et estoient tousjours nuë teste comme scavez que est la coustume de ce pays. Le Roy se mist en un lieu qu’il avoit faict faire fort a propos, par ou il pouvoit veoir toute la ceremonie, et sans estre veu; ou il fit aller avec luy l’Ambassadeur de France et celuy de Venise.

“A la porte de la salle y avoit conduicts jettents vin, et en prenoit qui vouloit. Semblablement y avoit cuisines a bailler viandes a tous venantz pour ce jour-la, et y eut une merveilleuse mangerye: trompettes et hault-boys sonnoient a chacun service, et heraulz cryoient largesse.”

The next day a grand tournament of eight against eight, conducted on the one side by Lord William Howard, on the other by Sir Nicolas Carew, Master of the Horse, terminated the festivities.⁠[191]

Such was the brilliant opening of Anne Boleyn’s short-lived triumph. But all was not so smooth as it appeared on the surface. On the 7th June, the king requested Dinteville to write to Du Bellay, as the ambassador did also to Francis I. and to the Grand Maître, to inform them of some intelligence he had received from Rome which had given him great annoyance. He had heard that it had been declared in open Consistory, on the part of the King of France, that the latter sovereign intended to resist the Lutherans in every way possible. Francis did, in fact, persecute them in his own kingdom, while making alliances, for political purposes, with their leaders in Germany. Henry declared to Dinteville that such a declaration in Consistory was sufficient to overthrow all the good intelligence they had established with Germany. In his opinion it was most ill-advised. He had but a short time before warned Francis to communicate to their common allies, the German princes, the project of the Papal interview, in order that its purport might not be mistaken. Dinteville wrote that he had never seen the king so angry.⁠[192]

Henry was in fact beginning to doubt the sincerity of the King of France. The Bailly assured him that, excepting the Medici marriage, of which Henry had been told long ago, Francis had no motive in wishing to see the Pope beyond the arrangement of the King of England’s great affair. Dinteville suspected, however, as he says in his interesting letter to the Bishop of Paris, that other causes had contributed to the king’s wrath. Henry had heard that further censures of the Church were in preparation for him. The common people of England were much attached to Katherine of Aragon; and Dinteville, like many foreigners, thought it likely they might break into open rebellion if encouraged by a Papal sentence of excommunication against the king. In his opinion, one of the wisest features of Henry’s rule was the cordiality he kept up with the leading personages of the realm. Thus, if things should come to extremes, the people would have none to lead them.

The health of the ambassador had been troubling him again, and he ends his letter to Jean Du Bellay by a piteous appeal to the bishop to assist his departure from England. “Je vous promets sur ma foy,” he writes, “que si je y demores encore gueres, j’ai grand peur de y laisser la peau et les os. Jamais je ne y ai eu que huit jours de sante. Le 22 du mois qui vient⁠[193] mes six mois seront achevez, je voudrois bien qu’il pleust au Roy et a Monseigneur le grand Maistre penser et pourveoir un autre de ma place.”⁠[194]

On the last day of June he writes to announce to the King of France the death of the ex-queen Mary, sister of Henry VIII., widow of Louis XII., and wife of Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk.

An event now took place which made a profound sensation at the Court of France, and threatened once more to disturb the peace of Europe. It forms but an incident, perhaps, in the long roll of history. But it echoed in the ears of contemporaries with a sinister roar, and the bitter indignation it aroused in France was not soon or lightly appeased. As a minor consequence, it probably had considerable influence on the composition of certain portions of Dinteville’s picture; and for this reason shall here be related in some detail.⁠[195]

Francesco Sforza, Duke of Milan, had been one of the chief parties to the League of Cognac. That combination, it will be remembered, was directed against Charles V., and was called into existence by the French king in the first heat of his resentment, on his return from captivity. Some years later Sforza sent his Chancellor to propose to the King of France that a resident French agent should be secretly established at Milan. This step, so the Duke believed, would much conduce to the furtherance of their common interests. It was also suggested that the appointment should be bestowed on a certain Italian gentleman, named Merveilles,⁠[196] who for twenty-five years had been in the service of France, and was at present an equerry in the household of Francis I. The advantage of this selection, if the matter was to be kept secret, was obvious. Merveilles, being of Milanese extraction, would not, it was thought, be an object of suspicion to the Emperor. To make security sure, however, the French emissary was to be provided with a double set of papers, in one of which the king was to recommend him to the good graces of the Duke, as though Merveilles were merely staying at Milan for the settlement of his private affairs. These papers could be shown to Charles V., should any difficulty arise. The marriage of Sforza with the Emperor’s niece, Christina,⁠[197] daughter of the King of Denmark, was just being negotiated. He was therefore doubly anxious to give Charles no cause of offence.

The Duke had probably imagined he could play off the rival sovereigns against each other. He hoped thus to strengthen the foundations of his tottering throne, on which, as he well knew, the jealous eyes of both potentates were always fixed. But he had over-calculated his strength. The Emperor got wind of the true position of Merveilles, and neither papers nor explanations sufficed to appease his wrath. Sforza was frightened, and learned too late that he could not serve two masters. Forced into a tardy choice, he sent a cynical message to the Emperor to the effect that the course of a few days would show whether his affections were fixed on France. He kept his word. Early in July the French Court was startled by the intelligence that Merveilles, on some trumped-up charge, had been thrown into prison and foully murdered at dead of night, by order of the Duke of Milan.

The King of France was furious. Did he consider, when raving over the treachery of Sforza, that, just as he had given Merveilles a double set of papers, with one of which it was intended to hoodwink the Emperor, so he had committed to the two Cardinals negotiating the Medici marriage a double set of instructions, one of which had for its object to wrest Milan from the hands of his ally, the Duke? For, as early as 1531, Francis had proposed to Clement VII., through Cardinal Grammont and the Duke of Albany, the reconquest of the Duchy of Milan, as part of the secret stipulations of the marriage contract.⁠[198] These proposals had recently been repeated and accentuated, of course with the utmost secrecy, by Cardinals Grammont and Tournon at Bologna.⁠[199] The suspicions of Charles V. had been aroused by the evident eagerness of Francis for what appeared so great a mésalliance. Was Sforza made aware of the Emperor’s fears? Did he reward treachery with treachery? At any rate, the blow fell, and great was the fall of it.

Dinteville, at his post in London, must have shared the general quiver of indignation. Apart from the brutality of the crime, the insult to France in the person of her envoy, the danger of the precedent if the sacred position of ambassador could thus be lightly violated, the regret for the well-known and respected individual, were keenly felt. The King of France, by way of protest, sent despatches to all the Courts of Europe, including that of Charles V., to inform them of the outrage. The Emperor drily turned the tables on Francis by replying that he had seen the king’s letters which proved that Merveilles was only a private gentleman, and no ambassador. In due course he bestowed on Sforza, as arranged, the hand of his niece.

Thus ended in fierce hatred and discord, so far as the coveted Duchy of Milan was concerned, all that the League of Cognac, the Holy League as it had once been called, had in years gone by promised of peace and harmony. The League had indeed gone through vicissitudes enough since its formation in 1526. The Italian alliances were unstable as water, and waxed and waned with every moon. But the main trend of French policy, to keep the upper hand in Italy, and the Emperor at bay, by heading a powerful coalition of the Italian states, had remained unchanged. The compact just made between Pope and Emperor at Bologna, into which some other Italian states had been drawn, was a blow directed at French policy. But this the King of France hoped to parry by the Medici marriage. The murder of Merveilles, by which the Duke of Milan definitely embraced the Imperial side, was a far more serious matter. “Je vous declare,” writes the King of France to the Bailly of Troyes, on the 16th July, “que je suis delibéré de m’en ressentir jusques au bout, et de sorte que la mémoire en demourera perpetuelle.”⁠[200]

Notwithstanding the entreaties of the Bailly of Troyes to be released from his post, his presence in England was still deemed too necessary to admit of his being replaced.

The interview of the King of France with the Pope was postponed from one month to another; the Duke of Norfolk was waiting about in France, losing his time; Henry VIII. was growing morose and distrustful. The French king, however, had no desire merely to exchange one set of allies for another. Though determined not to sacrifice his own objects with the Pope, he was ready, short of that, to do all in his power to conciliate Henry and retain his friendship. English sympathy had too often been useful to France to be lightly thrown overboard. Norfolk and his companions were therefore treated with the utmost honour. Francis proposed that they should remain at Lyons till the deferred interview could take place, and appointed to accompany them the Bishop of Paris, Vaulx, La Hargerie, and other gentlemen of standing.

In the midst of all this, urged by the Imperial party amongst the Cardinals, and unable, for his public credit, to pass over in utter silence the king’s defiance of his authority, the Pope pronounced the expected sentence of excommunication against Henry VIII. The step was taken with a faint heart, no doubt: Clement had played a double game, and was caught in his own trap. Just now, when forced to make the unwelcome move, he was especially anxious to give satisfaction to the King of France, whom he knew the step must displease. The Pope therefore hastened to soften the effect of the sentence, so far as possible, by promising that the censures should not come into force before the approaching interview. On that occasion, it was hoped, some means of compromise might yet be devised. The King of England was profoundly irritated. The Dukes of Norfolk and Richmond, Lord Rochford, and other members of the party that had been sent to attend the interview, were immediately withdrawn. Had it been possible, Henry would have annulled the projected meeting of Francis and Clement altogether. The King of France once more filled the breach with soft words. He persuaded his English ally to substitute other ambassadors for those who had been recalled, urging that, for the advantage of the King of England’s cause, it was most desirable he should be represented. The Bishop of Winchester and Sir Francis Brian were appointed to attend the meeting. So well, indeed, did the French king succeed in pacifying the Duke of Norfolk, that, when the latter returned to England at the end of August, Dinteville was able to assure Francis that he had never seen the King of England in a mood of greater confidence and friendship.⁠[201] Henry’s good humour was not destined to be of long duration, but for the moment the sun shone again.

Domestic affairs just now claimed an unusual amount of his attention. On the 7th of September the future Queen Elizabeth was born at the palace of Greenwich. Much correspondence passed on this occasion between Dinteville and the King of France, who had promised to act as godfather had the child been a boy. Henry’s disappointment on this score was keen; doubly so because the position of the infant princess at once entered into competition with that of Princess Mary, the daughter of Katherine of Aragon. A question was thus raised which the birth of a son would have immediately disposed of.

At about the same time the French king sent a letter to convey to Dinteville the long-coveted permission to return to his own country.

“Monsieur le Bailly,”⁠[202] writes Francis, “congnoissant très-bien le long temps qu’il y a que vous estes pardela, et qu’il est très-raisonable que vous faciez un tour chez vous, pour pourveoir et donner ordre a vos affaires, je vous ay bien voulu accorder vostre congé pour vous en venir quant bon vous semblera; et envoye en vostre lieu le Sieur de Castillon, gentilhomme de ma Chambre, porteur de ceste.”⁠[203]

As a matter of fact, however, the new ambassador, Castillon, did not arrive in England, and the letter was probably not delivered, until the second week in November. The period of the Papal interview was at last approaching; and it was, no doubt, thought desirable that Dinteville should remain at his post till that event had taken place. The blandishments with which Clement and Francis had endeavoured to pacify Henry would then be put to the severe test of fact. It would be seen how much the king might hope to reap of the promises which had been so freely sown. And Francis perhaps felt that the result was likely to put a very severe strain on the already weakened friendship between him and his “good brother.”

Dinteville, who was in favour with Henry VIII.—several of his letters at about this time are dated from Greenwich, where he was the king’s guest—was, no doubt, considered more likely to bring things to a good issue than a stranger coming fresh to so delicate a task.

Early in October he was able to inform the King of France that a truce had been concluded for one year between the Kings of England and Scotland. This was chiefly due to the efforts of the Bailly of Troyes, on the one hand, and of Beauvais on the other; and certainly reflected some credit on their diplomacy.

Before the middle of the month the Pope had at length arrived at Marseilles. He was received with all due ceremony by the King of France. Mutual efforts were made, by Francis on behalf of Henry VIII., by Clement on that of Charles V., to pave the way for a further understanding; but in each case without success. The Pope briefly excused himself as to the King of England’s affair, by saying he had left the papers concerning it at Rome, and that it was therefore idle to discuss it further for the present.⁠[204] The main object of the meeting was in fact the marriage between Henri, Duke of Orleans, and Catherine de’ Medici. On neither side was there any intention of wrecking the policy of which that union was the expression by insistence on the demands of importunate friends.

The contract was drawn up on the 27th October. It contained an agreement that the Duchy of Milan should be reconquered by the French king at the end of eighteen months. Urbino was to be reduced at the joint expense of the contracting parties. Two hundred thousand crowns were to constitute the dowry, and the Pope was to cede to the French Parma and Piacenza.⁠[205]

It seems wonderful that it should have been worth while to go these lengths for such a bubble. Francis, whose practical astuteness was always outbalanced by his fervid imagination where Italy was concerned, no doubt saw himself already master of the Peninsula. The Pope had completely outwitted him.

The King of England entered an indignant protest against the proceedings at Marseilles. He told Dinteville to write and say that, whereas it had been agreed that the settlement of his affairs should take precedence of the Medici marriage, Francis had sacrificed him completely to the alliance with the Pope. The Bailly of Troyes felt that the relations between the two kings had now reached a pitch not far removed from breaking-point. On the repetition of Henry’s reproaches he therefore replied with some spirit that he had rather be the poorest gentleman in France than convey such expressions to the king his master; that he had not come to England to transmit words that would diminish friendship, and that he implored the king to carry such observations no further. These representations seem to have produced some effect, for Henry thereupon turned to Castillon, who had just arrived, and had that day been presented at Court, remarking curtly that he was aware it was necessary each should endure the other.

Dinteville’s memorandum of this scene adds the characteristic postscript:⁠[206] “Nota, que souvent le Roy après ses coleres m’a bien dict qu’il m’estimoit tel que je ne dirois ny escriprois chose qui diminuast amitié entre eux, et souvent m’ont prié ceux de son Conseil de mesme.”⁠[207]

The term of his residence in England at length drew to a close. Two last letters he wrote early in November, respectively addressed to the king and Grand-Maître, begging to know what reply was deemed most suitable to Henry’s complaints and reproaches. In the absence of exact instructions, he could only continue to administer such soothing words as his ready wit might devise, which in the face of accomplished facts naturally lost much of their force.

On the 11th November, 1533, the grant is recorded which permitted “Mons. de Dintevilla, bailly de Troes, ambassador to the French king,” to “pass beyond sea, with his servants, baggage, etc., and to convey out of the realm horses, mules and mulettes, to the number of twenty-six.”⁠[208] A week later, on the 18th November, Dinteville set his face towards France.⁠[209]

Although the nature of the times was such that he left the alliance between England and France cooler than he found it, his official career as an ambassador was accounted a success. The fault did not lie at his door. Given the difficult and exacting temper of the king with whom he had to deal, and the slippery insincerity of his own master, it was creditable to have prevented an open rupture between the two sovereigns. Personally he was liked by Henry VIII., and the tact and skill with which he met the king’s surly moods caused him to be employed in England more than once subsequently on short diplomatic errands. His courage stood him in as good stead as his courtesy.⁠[210] “Je priay audit Sieur de Norsfort et a aucuns qui me semblent estre des principaux du Conseil de cedit Sieur Roy,” he writes in his last letter to Montmorency from England, “qu’ils donnassent a entendre au Roy leur maistre ... que l’on peut bien tant presser et fascher son amy que l’on s’en fait importun.” Before leaving, he intends to declare these things to the king himself, “car je doubte que Messieurs de son conseil ausquels j’en ay parlé ne luy en osent dire si hardiment tel advis comme je feray....”⁠[211]

The gist of it all was that a political alliance can only last so long as the contracting parties are bound together by common interests. The friendship flickered on intermittently for some time. But the aims of England and France had now taken widely divergent paths.

It is not here possible to do more than touch upon the mass of letters written and received by the Bailly of Troyes during his stay in England. Besides the regular official correspondence with the King of France, the Grand-Maître, and the Bishop of Paris, much of which is printed in the collection of Camusat, he received friendly letters from the Queen of Navarre; from the young Duke of Angoulême (his special charge); from Philippe de Chabot, High Admiral of France; Beauvais, French ambassador in Scotland; Claude Dodieu, Sieur de Vély, who occupied a similar position at the court of the Emperor;⁠[212] Oudart du Biez, Governour of Boulogne, who forwarded his posts for him; Breton, secretary to Francis I., and doubtless many others whose names have not been preserved.⁠[213]