# History of England (Froude)/Chapter 20

CHAPTER XX.
THE FRENCH WAR.
THE King of England, determining, in spite of the Papal excommunication, to assert his place in the European system as a Christian sovereign; to assist in the defence of Europe against the Ottomans; to tempt Charles to follow the English example—to break with the Papacy, and unite with himself in calling a council, where the religious differences could be settled with a reasonable liberality—determining, also, whether the greater object could be achieved or not, to introduce order into the length and breadth of his own land; if possible, to conciliate Scotland; if Scotland would not be conciliated, no longer to permit the back gate of his kingdom to lie open to the intrigues of the enemies of England, and to compel the people to fear the power which they rejected as an ally:—
The King of France, careless of religion, careless of honour, careless of Europe, caring only to humiliate the Emperor, to annex Milan, to escape payment of his debts; on the one hand inviting the Turks into Germany ​and the Mediterranean; on the other, feeding in Scotland the animosities of the nation against the English, and the special hatred of the clergy against Henry and the Reformation:—
Charles V., embarrassed between his orthodoxy as a Catholic and his duties as a prince, resolute, apparently, to check the ambition and punish the treachery of Francis, to compose the spiritual anarchy which distracted the Empire, and to drive back the advancing wave of Mahometanism which threatened to close the Protestant controversies in Europe, as Kaled and Omar nine centuries before had closed the quarrels of the sects in Antioch and Alexandria; yet knowing well that for such undertakings steel and powder would do more for victory than the lightnings of the Vatican; and, in spite of himself and of the anger of the Pope, compelled into an alliance with the heretic of England; hoping, if it might be so, to win him back to conformity; satisfied, if persuasion should fail, that with a clear conscience he might leave him to his fate, when his support should no longer be necessary; finally, doing for the day what the exigencies of the day demanded, and leaving the morrow to resolve its own difficulties:—
Paul III., concentrating under the influence of Reginald Pole the whole energies of his nature into a blind and malignant hatred of Henry VIII.; alarmed at the progress of Solyman, yet counting him a spirit of light, compared with a rival 'head of the Church;' disapproving the Koran, yet fearing less injury to the ​soul from the rhapsodies of Mahomet than from Tyndal's Bible and the 'Institution of a Christian Man;' furious at his past failures, at the blighted conspiracies, the recent defection of Ireland, the still later defeat at Solway Moss, and dreading now that Scotland, his last hope, would fail him also; furious at the Emperor for inclining to the heresiarch whom he had promised to destroy; and therefore pardoning in Francis his alliance with the Porte, for the strength which that alliance might lend him to defy Henry and maintain David Beton and the queen-mother:—
These were the respective objects and attitudes of the great powers of Europe at the termination December.of the year 1542; these were the tendencies out of which the future, so far as the policy of statesmen and sovereigns could affect it, was to form itself. The direction of events in England and Scotland, France and Germany, ceased to be guided by local and superficial influences, and moved with the broad undercurrent which penetrated from one to the other; the resolutions of the Estates at Edinburgh were dictated from the Vatican or from Paris; the relations between England and France were turned out of their course by the necessity which was compelling into one the two nations which divided between them the small island of Britain.
The news of the Scottish invasion, and of the murder of the herald, reached London simultaneously; the death of James, which so soon followed, was undreamt of till it actually occurred; and Henry, encouraged by ​the extraordinary success on the Solway, made up his mind to hesitate no longer, to carry the country by storm before the nation had recovered from their panic, and to assert his feudal sovereignty over the northern kingdom. The lords and gentlemen who had been taken prisoners in the battle were brought up express to the Court. After two days' confinement in the Tower they were paraded in public through the streets to Whitehall, where they listened to a detail from the mouth of the chancellor of their own and the King's offences. They were then set at liberty, on their parole, and were dispersed as guests among the houses of the English nobles. A formal demand was despatched to Edinburgh for the surrender of the murderers; and Sir William Paget was instructed to lay before the French sovereign a copy of the declaration of the causes of the war, and to require him to abstain from interference. Francis insisted in reply that he was bound by treaty to support his allies. He said that James had acted wisely in refusing the interview, that the right in the dispute was with him, and not with Henry; and that he would not allow Scotland to be crushed. But the opposition or the open hostility of France was anticipated, and if undesired could be endured. With the opening of the spring Henry had resolved to cross the ​Border at the head of his army, when it became known that James was beyond the reach of earthly punishment, and the sovereign with whom he was at war was an infant girl. The council of Scotland communicated the news in a letter of prostrate humiliation. While relating the loss which had fallen upon them, they added that they had arrested the men who had killed the herald, and would deliver them up immediately to justice. They trusted that his Highness's blood reigning within their realm, he would not fail to desire the tranquillity of it; 'they had thought it above all things most needful to seek the ways whereby all diversity betwixt the two realms might be brought to amity and quiet;' and they entreated that at once a six mouths' armistice might be proclaimed on the Borders, till terms of peace could be agreed on. Evidently either the spirit of the whole nation was broken, or Beton and Beton's party were no longer in the ascendant.
In fact, for the moment, the Cardinal had ruined his cause. The invasion of England, which had terminated so disastrously, had been his exclusive work. Foreseeing that the recoil of feeling, inevitable under any circumstances, would be stimulated by the fate of the King, he had ventured a desperate effort to retain his supremacy. He had hastened to the bedside of the dying monarch, and had guided his hand, at the moment of departure, in the signature of a paper by which the regency was conferred upon himself and upon those of the ​nobles on whose devotion to the Papacy he could calculate. He was proclaimed at the market-cross at Edinburgh, but the impudent forgery was exposed and denounced; and the discovery of the list of names which revealed the conspiracy against the lords who had opposed the war with England raised at once a storm of rage. The Earl of Arran, whose name was first upon the catalogue, was next of kin to the princess, and by Scottish usage was her legitimate guardian. Arran, with the assistance of Sir James Kirkaldy, called a convention of the nobles, and, by a majority too great even to allow a shadow of resistance, was declared Regent. The Cardinal was arrested and imprisoned; and the power passed from the Church to the laity.
The circumstances of the two countries now ​resembled those which had succeeded the battle of Flodden. A great invasion had a second time been followed by a great defeat, by the death of a king, and by the succession of an infant. A second time there was an opportunity for a union of the Crowns by marriage. A second time there was an interval of penitence, when suffering brought with it wiser counsels. The recurring crisis was attended only with this difference, that before Scotland was left with a prince who was then to be mated with an English princess. The position was now reversed. A girl inherited the throne of the Stuarts: a boy, a few years older, was the heir of the rival crown. But, under either form, 'the situation,' to use the language of Knox, 'was a wonderful providence of God;' and while the wounds of Solway Moss were still green, and the memory of suffering was fresh, the fear of the ​Scottish council seemed rather that Henry, in his present humour, would refuse to grant again conditions so honourably moderate.
Therefore it was that, on the King's death, they made haste to secure their ground by a ready submission; while at the same time, by electing a regent on their own authority who was known to be hostile to Beton, they at once secured the outward independence of their Government, and took away from Henry a pretence for an armed interference. The two murderers were sent under a guard to Alnwick, where they were placed in the hands of Lord Lisle. When examined on the motives of their crime, one of them—the Lincoln insurgent, Leech—maintained an obstinate silence; his companion, Priestman, who was also a refugee, was more cowardly or less scrupulous. This man stated that they had been in great poverty, and they had supposed that some 'notable exploit' done against their countrymen might bring them into favour at the Court. With this view they had suggested to the King that the herald and his party were probably spies; and, should it so please him, they would intercept and punish them. The King, Priestman said, gave them no answer in words, but from signs and gestures they gathered that 'he forced not, though the men had a shrewd turn.' His secretary was explicit in his encouragement. They need be in no fear, he told them, of being given up to the English: 'If they had killed the King of England ​himself they would not be delivered;' and the Cardinal would give them 'wages' as soon as they had earned his favour. They still hesitated: to assure themselves certainly they applied for directions to Beton himself; and of the instructions which had been given in this quarter, Priestman could not speak with certainty. His companion had been admitted to a private interview; and, knowing nothing of the details of the conversation between Leech and the Cardinal, he could himself say only that the enterprise was regarded with general favour. Neither Beton nor any other person, in his own hearing, had expressly advised the murder; but 'he might perceive,' he said, 'as well by their fashion that they would have such a thing done as though they had commanded them precisely to do it.' With the evidence made imperfect by the silence of the other prisoner, the Cardinal may have the benefit of the cautious verdict of his countrymen. His complicity was 'not proven;' but, though the herald was in himself an insignificant person, it is not unlikely that the subtle churchman, afraid of the King's vacillation, desired to embitter the quarrel with England, beyond hope of reconciliation, by a desperate and unpardonable outrage.
At any rate, whether guilty or innocent, Beton was driven from power, and was secured in Blackness Castle from committing further crimes. There was a prospect of peace—peace, at last, on the broad basis of acknowledged interest; and Henry, catching gladly at the ​opportunity, invited the Scotch prisoners, with the Earl of Angus and his brother, to a conference in London. He expressed his anxious desire to heal the old wounds, once and for ever, by a treaty of perpetual peace and the betrothal of Edward and Mary. His objects and his offers were the same precisely which he had desired and proposed twenty years before; but, taught by the experience of past failures, he would not again, if security were possible, expose a combination of occasions, which might never recur, to be ruined by Scotch fickleness. This time he would ensure his success by substantial conditions. He suggested that, on the signature of the two treaties, the infant Queen should be brought into England to be educated; that the Castles of Edinburgh, Stirling, and Dumbarton should be occupied by English garrisons; that, in the place of a regency, Scotland should be governed by a native council, in the nomination of which he should be himself admitted to a voice; and to Cardinal Beton he paid the same respect which he had paid previously to his uncle the Archbishop—the prisons on the south side of the Border he believed to be safer than those on the north.
If in the administration of human affairs that course is the best which will accomplish, with the smallest amount of inconvenience or suffering, results which in themselves are sooner or later inevitable, we cannot but applaud a scheme which, had circumstances permitted its accomplishment, would have spared Scotland a century of needless calamity, and perhaps might have spread ​in peace the forms of the Church of England over the united kingdoms. The noblemen whom the King was addressing acquiesced, or professed to acquiesce, with unreserved heartiness. Their imprisonment was declared at an end. They were permitted to return to their country, undertaking on their part to further the English policy with all their power. They gave a promise, should they be unable to accomplish Henry's expectations, again to surrender themselves, or to pay the moderate ransom at which the price of their liberty was fixed; but, in reality, the condition of their deliverance was the peace between England and Scotland. Success seemed all but certain. It was possible that, notwithstanding the favourable disposition of the council, force might still be required to take possession of the fortresses, and to escort the Cardinal into England; and Lord Lisle received orders to support the Earl of Angus with four thousand men. But an easy and bloodless victory was confidently anticipated. On the 30th of December the two hundred lords and gentlemen who, a few weeks before, had been carried in triumph through London, were dismissed with costly presents from the Court. On the 31st the Lord Mayor entertained them at a banquet in the Guildhall; and on New-year's day after, pausing at Enfield to pay their court to the young prince, they set out for the north, carrying back with them, as it seemed, not only a desire for an alliance with the nation which they had entered as armed invaders, but the ​intention of introducing into Scotland the English Bible and the principles of the English Reformation.
In Paris the tidings of these strange events were received at first with incredulity, and afterwads with fear. The release of the prisoners was known: the conditions, though not declared, were more than suspected. A Scot endeavoured to extract the secret out of Paget; and although the ambassador was too skilful a diplomatist to be entrapped by questions, yet the situation and its obvious suggestions left little doubt of Henry's intentions; and the Catholic faction in the French council determined at all hazards to thwart him. The disaster of November had overthrown Beton; but the links which bound France and Scotland were woven out of the hatred of centuries for a common enemy, and could not be destroyed by a momentary accident They affected to see in the intended marriage the sacrifice of a nation's independence, the insidious approach of a rival power watching its opportunity; and they ​knew that they were striking a note to which many a Scottish heart would vibrate. They flung themselves into the cause with an affection of generous sympathy. 1543. January.Volunteers in the beginning of January were offering themselves to defend the throne of the daughter of Mary of Guise, or to carry her away from the snares of artful enemies and treacherous subjects, into the safe asylum of France. 'From highest to lowest,' the English ambassador wrote from Paris to Henry, 'every man in this Court maketh the matter of the Scots almost their own.' They had assisted James with ammunition and money to commence the war. Feb. 2.Barges were now loading at Rouen with cannon, shot, and powder, pikes and muskets; the cargoes to be transferred to ships, which were to land them at Leith at the earliest opportunity. For the moment the river was impassable from a severe frost; but on the instant of a thaw, the Duke of Guise would cross from Normandy, and either liberate the Cardinal and restore the Church party to power, or frustrate Henry's hopes by carrying back with him his daughter and her child.
The English agents spared no money in the purchase of information; the preparations at Rouen and the intentions of Guise were soon known in London, and ships of war were equipped at Newcastle and Hull, to watch and intercept the passage. The ice which delayed the French blocked also the outlets of the ​English harbours; but, before the expedition could sail, Guise learnt that he was too late, and to accomplish his enterprise he must risk a battle.
To have failed in catching the first moment of agitation, it might well be hoped was to have failed wholly. If the Scotch council were true to their promises, little more was to be feared from French interference. On one point, indeed, the intentions of Henry were frustrated at the outset. The Douglases, on their arrival with their companions, found Arran too firmly seated in the regency to be displaced; and the Government by a council was impossible. The disappointment, however, so far, was of no particular moment. The Regent had been honoured by Beton's especial dislike. His infirm character would render him a pliant instrument of the English policy; and he was described as 'a soft God's man, that loved well to look on the Scripture.' His first acts were full of promise. He issued licenses of preaching to 'two stout gospellers,' Thomas Williams and John Rough, whom the Cardinal had intended for the stake. 'The slaves of Satan,' says Knox, 'roupit as they had been ravens; yea, rather they yelled and roared that Williams and Rough would carry the governour unto the devil.' But Arran for once was ​resolute. The champion of the Church was in safe custody, and a native Government, could its constancy be relied upon, wonld do Henry's work more effectually, and would create less jealousy in doing it, uncontrolled by foreign interference.
But clouds, though at first light, were not long in rising. In the middle of February Sir George Douglas came down to Lord Lisle at Berwick, and one by one requested a relaxation of the remaining conditions. English garrisons could not be introduced without great difficulty into the castles; the conveyance of the Cardinal into England would create a general irritation; and still more questionably, when Lisle spoke of the coming of the Duke of Guise, Douglas said that the council did not intend to prevent his landing, but would content themselves with limiting the number of his train. The known ability of Sir George Douglas could not permit the English commander to regard him as a dupe. Such a man could not be ignorant that, if Guise was once at Edinburgh, with the command of money which he would bring with him, he would make a party instantly among the needy and covetous nobles, and Blackness would not hold its prisoner for four-andtwenty hours. If the Regent was seriously meditating such an act of infatuation, it should not be without an effort to save him from himself, and Lisle warned the Earl of Arran of the nature of the power with which he was dealing, and of the danger of trifling with it.
​But the fault of Arran as yet had not passed beyond weakness. He was timid as a statesman. He shrunk from the odium and the possible danger of throwing himself absolutely on the support of England; and without that support he was too feeble to pursue openly an avowed English policy. He believed that he could compensate for his want of strength by dexterity of management; and he was dealing with an enemy who, in the use of such a weapon, could play with him as with a child.
Cardinal David Beton, Archbishop of St Andrew's, approached nearly to the ideal of the Romanist statesman of the age. Devoted to the Pope and to the Papacy, he served his master with the unvarying consistency, with the mingled passion and calmness which, beyond all other known institutions, the Roman Church has the power of imparting to its votaries. The sensual pleasures of which his profession as an ecclesiastic deprived him of the open enjoyment, he was permitted to obtain by private licentiousness; his indulgences were compensated by a fidelity with which they never interfered; and the surrender of innocuous vices was not demanded of a man to whom no crime was difficult which would further the interests of his cause. His scent of heresy was as the sleuth hound's, and, as the sleuth hound's, was only satisfied with blood. He was cruel when the Church demanded cruelty, treacherous and false when treachery and falsehood would serve the ​interests to which, he had sold himself; his courage was as matchless as his subtlety; his accomplishments as exquisite as his intellect.
It was little wonder that for such a man Henry thought the Tower of London a safer prison than Blackness, and himself a surer gaoler than the Earl of Arran. No sooner was Beton under arrest than he drew up letters of interdict for the whole of Scotland. They were passed through the hands of his keepers, and copies were distributed among the clergy. There was no lash or gallows, as in England, to correct the over-zeal of the ecclesiastics. The letters were obeyed without scruple and without exception. Although the 'gospellers' might preach, no mass might be sung in any church in Scotland, no corpse be buried, child be baptized, or impatient lover united in matrimony, till the heavy edict should be withdrawn. March.The body of the Cardinal was imprisoned. His spirit escaped through the walls and moved omnipotent through the land. When the people complained, it was answered that the servant of the Church was suffering for the truth and for his country, which a treacherous faction would betray to England and to heresy. The temporal lords of Scotland were ill able to cope with such an antagonist. It was not till a power, preternatural as his own, till the spirit of the Reformation stood out to battle with him, that the haughty Beton at last would vail his crest. The Government durst not ​send him into England, and dared as little to punish him themselves. They temporized, they hesitated, and at length, taking refuge in inertia, they would not release their prisoner, but they left the country to suffer and grow impatient.
On the 12th of March, while the interdict was still in force, the Estates assembled at Edinburgh to consider the state of the realm and the English treaties. At the outset the prospect still promised fairly. The nomination of Arran to the regency was confirmed; and on the first day of the session 'the Lords of the Articles, after they had heard my Lord Governor's mind, having consideration of the adversity of times bye gone, and of the dangerous appearances of skaith of the time instant and sicklike to come, concluded that an ample commission should be made and sent with ambassadors to the King of England, for taking, treating, and concluding of peace perpetual; that another commission should be made to the same ambassadors, to conclude a marriage betwixt the Queen of Scotland and Edward Prince of Wales, apparent heritor of England.'
So far all was well. A general acquiescence was admitted in the King of England's views. But similar negotiations twenty years before had advanced to the admission of the principle. It appeared rapidly that the same' struggle would repeat itself in the discussion of ​the details. Henry, made wise by experience, had required the custody and the control of the education of the Queen. The Parliament determined that, 'for many inconveniences like to ensue,' they must refuse this important condition. Four Scottish noblemen should reside in England as hostages for the Queen's appearance there when she had arrived at marriageable age; but for the present she must remain with her mother, surrounded, of course, by French courtiers and Romanist ecclesiastics, whose influence Henry, if he pleased, might neutralize by attaching a limited number of English gentlemen and ladies to the royal household. Looking forward to the ultimate completion of the marriage, they decided next that, when that event had taken place, the realm should nevertheless retain its ancient liberties, and its name of Scotland; the national Parliament should continue undisturbed; the regency should be assured for life to the Earl of Arran; and if there should be issue from the marriage, and the crowns of the two kingdoms be united in a single person, the administration should descend by the ordinary laws of inheritance in the Arran family; the country should be ruled for ever under 'a governour born of the realm,' and guided by the native laws.
These preposterous resolutions were gravely determined on. It is impossible to believe that there was a serious expectation that they would be accepted in England as the basis of a treaty. The commissioners selected ​to carry them to London, Sir James Leirmouth, Sir William Hamilton, and Balnavis of Halhill, unknown men of inferior rank, were not likely to recommend in the delivery an unpalatable message; and it may be assumed that the object was to escape from the difficulty by exacting impossible conditions, and throwing upon Henry the burden of the refusal.
While, however, the jealousy of England was so conspicuous, the Parliament, nevertheless, displayed a more promising spirit on matters of religion. As yet there was no leaning visible towards the Cardinal; and three days after the discussion of the treaties Lord Maxwell proposed that the people should be permitted the use of the English Bible. In Beton's absence the Archbishop of Glasgow entered a protest on behalf of the episcopate, and entreated a delay until a provincial council of the clergy should have declared their assent; but his opposition was waived. Maxwell's proposal had been received with evident favour; and the Lords of the Articles having pronounced that no existing law forbade the reading of a translation of the Scriptures, a proclamation made public the liberty which, beyond all other things, the Church with keenest instinct dreaded. One special point for which the King of England had laboured was gained. Could he but wait his time, his other wishes, he was assured, would in due time accomplish themselves.
​Where there was hope that the end might be accomplished by patience, an endurance which had already lasted through thirty years of disappointment could still continue. The success of Maxwell's measure compensated for the remaining failures. But amidst the uncertainties and inconsistencies of the Scotch nature which had been so tediously experienced, Henry required at least a just information of their proceedings and intentions. The proposals of the Parliament had not yet reached him, for Leirmouth and his companions had been slow in departing on their errand. A vague impression of a difficulty was all which had transpired; and Sadler, whose past experience and acquaintance at the Scottish Court best qualified him for the post, was sent to reside at Edinburgh, to observe and to report. While affairs remained unsettled, a strong English force was maintained upon the Borders; large sums of money were secretly distributed among the northern lords; the Earl of Angus and his brother, whom Henry had maintained for fifteen years in their exile, were now his almoners to others, while they continued his pensioners themselves. He required to be assured that his revenues ​were not squandered in unavailing efforts, and by unfaithful stewards.
On the 20th of March, Sadler reported his arrival and reception at Edinburgh, where Sir George Douglas had partially introduced him behind the scenes. There had been sad work, Douglas told him. At one time the Catholic Earls, Huntly, Argyle, Murray, and Bothwell, had threatened to make a party with the clergy, and hold an opposition Parliament at Perth. He had not slept three hours any night since his return from England. But the worst was over, and he trusted that at last all would go well. 'They had grinned at each other, but there was none that would bite;' and if the King would be contented with slow progress, he believed that it would be sure. This much, however, was certain, that if at present the delivery of the Queen, or the custody of the fortresses, was insisted on, Beton would be set at liberty, the French would be called in to assist, and all that had been accomplished would bo undone. 'There was not so little a boy but he would hurl stones at it, the wives would handle their distaffs, and the commons universally would die in it.' Douglas might be right, but he had used different language ​a few weeks previously in London. Moreover, it was whispered that he had held a secret interview with the Cardinal, in which the supposed enemies had suspiciously embraced each other. Sadler knew that he was breathing an atmosphere of falsehood. His business was to give his ear to every one, and to believe so far as he saw occasion. When Douglas left him he found himself instantly surrounded by noble lords and gentlemen of all factions and parties, coming each of them with their several stories to instruct or mislead; each assuring him that all were dishonest but themselves, and each anxious to finger the English gold. Lord Bothwell, whom Douglas declared to be Henry's most inveterate enemy, brought his offers of service and devotion, and kindly intimated that the Solway prisoners were playing false. On the 23rd of March, three days after his arrival, the ambassador had an interview with Mary of Guise; and the queen-mother, the centre and chief instrument, as was supposed, of French intrigues, informed him that her best wish was to see her child in England. For the marriage, 'she could not otherwise think but it was the work and ordinance of God for the conjunction and union of the realms;' but she warned him to hope for nothing from the Regent. The Earl of Arran, she said, intended her daughter not for Prince Edward, but for his own son. He was playing with England for his present convenience; but he would keep the Queen in his hands till her minority was over, and by that time ​would be dead, and excuses could be found without difficulty to break the contract. The truest friend to the two countries, she gravely assured Sadler, was Cardinal Beton. If Beton were once at liberty, the King of England's wishes would be all fulfilled. The English Court were living in a delusion. They depended on the Regent and the Douglases, whose only thought was how to defeat their desires; and she herself, she declared, was in fear for the life of her child as long as she remained in Scotland. The Regent had his eye upon the crown. He was already preparing the public to hear of the infant's death by spreading rumours that she was sickly.
The accomplished hypocrisy did not convince; yet it was not wholly without effect. Sir George Douglas had cautioned the ambassador against the queen-mother; the queen-mother warned him against Sir George Douglas. He perceived that there was 'some juggling,' but the grace and charm of Mary of Guise forbade him for the moment to believe with certainty that the falsehood was with her. She saw the impression which she had made, and, with winning confidence, she led him into her nursery, and lifted the baby out of the cradle, that he might admire its health and loveliness. Alas, for the child! born in sorrow, and nurtured in treachery! It grew to be Mary Stuart; and Sir Ralph Sadler lived to sit on the commission which investigated the murder of Darnley.
For the present, perplexities thickened about him. The Regent himself, in successive conversations, had ​March 20.professed the most vehement wishes to satisfy Henry. The week after the ambassador arrived, Arran assured him that he cared nothing for the interdict, and that so long as he lived 'the Cardinal should never have his liberty, nor come out of prison, unless it were to his further mischief.' Within a few days the Cardinal was secure within the walls of his own castle of St Andrew's (which his retainers had held in his name against the Government while he was in Blackness), under the nominal custody of Lord Seton, who was his surest friend. It was true that his detention in Scotland was no longer possible without a civil war. Easter was approaching, and the people would not endure that the season should pass unobserved. The Catholic Earls had threatened to liberate him by force, and a transparent compromise had covered without concealing the Regent's weakness. The truth might have been regretted, but it would have been intelligible. But the childish pretence which Arran attempted to maintain, that he was still a prisoner, and that the transfer had been a stroke of policy to recover possession of an important stronghold, only provoked suspicion. The King was liable to mistakes in the characters of women. He saw in Sadler's reports that those at least who had pretended to be his friends were falling short of their declarations. The Douglases had left his presence full of fair words, pretences, and promises: their engagements had melted into worse than inconsistency. Sir George had communicated secretly with Beton. It was through him that Beton was said to have been liberated; ​and, believing them treacherous, when, in fact, they were only embarrassed with difficulties too complicated to be avowed, Henry fell deeper than even his minister under the snares of the queen-mother. He was 'in marvellous perplexity' what to say of their late doings—of 'the strange fashion of removing the Cardinal, denied at first, doubted of after, then granted by Sir George Douglas.' He would no longer 'be deceived by fair words, and the deeds so repugnant to them,' while in the subtle daughter of the Duke of Guise he imagined that he saw 'a frank and plain manner of proceeding, such as motherly love to the surety of her child should in manner persuade her unto.' In his exasperation he even extended his confidence to her judgment as well as to herself. Those on whom he had depended had failed him. He believed, after all, that he might expect more from the party who had been his open enemies, and listened with despairing credulity to her praises of Cardinal Beton. The latter, to whom the queen-mother had given a hint, supported her assertions by a letter from St Andrew's to Sadler, in which after sending his hearty commendations, he said that having recovered his liberty, he was anxious to offer his services to the King's Majesty, and would be glad to see the English minister at the castle. Henry supposed that the offers perhaps might be meant in honesty. He directed that the invitation should be accepted; he permitted the suggestion of a hope that, if the Cardinal would at length ​honestly lend his help towards the settlement of the kingdom, he would gratefully accept his friendship; and should a change of sides entail the loss of his preferments in France, he undertook to see him substantially indemnified.
Sir Ralph Sadler, on the spot, saw clearer than Henry in London: and, though shaken, he could not wholly share his change of confidences. It was possible that the Queen and Cardinal were desiring only to create suspicion between the Court of England and the Regent and his advisers. It was possible that the latter were still partially honest, and had broken their promises as much from inability to keep them as from unwillingness. He continued, therefore, for the present, to listen to both sides—to wait, as he expressed it, for 'better experience of the fidelity and truth of French and Scottish than he had had as yet, before he would presume to give a certain judgment.' He informed Arran of his interview with Mary. Arran assured him that, whatever she pretended, 'he would find her, in the end, a right Frenchwoman.' Her only object was to preserve Scotland to France, and to prevent the alliance with England which she professed to desire. 'This,' he said, 'is her device, while, as she is both subtle and wily, so she hath a vengeable engine and wit to work her purpose. She laboureth, by all means ​she can, to have the Cardinal at liberty; by whom, being as good a Frenchman as she is a Frenchwoman, she might the rather compass her intent.' April 2.From Arran the perplexed minister went again to the Queen, who assured him positively that, since his last visit, the Regent had avowed to her openly his intention of keeping her daughter for his son. He had told her that 'he would rather die than deliver the child into the hands of the King of England; but he would give good words and make fair weather till better opportunity.' Whatever he promised, neither he nor the lords would accomplish any one real step towards a union of the kingdoms. For herself, she again said, that she feared for her life, and she wished herself in England.
Her eagerness had carried her a little too far. If she wished to be in England, Sadler suggested that there would be no great difficulty in an escape. She would be received with the child with open arms, and would earn his master's gratitude for ever. She turned the subject to the praises of Beton. If Beton had been free, she said, there would have been no difficulty. The treaties would already have been arranged; and even but lately he had sent her word that, could he leave St Andrew's, he would go to London, and with ​his own lips convince the King of his sincerity. The remains of Sadler's scepticism yielded before so confident audacity. 'The Queen, as I take her,' he wrote, when he left her presence, 'earnestly desireth the marriage of her daughter to my Lord Prince's Grace.'
On the other hand, if parties had changed sides on the English alliance, they kept their places on the sister question of religion. The Cardinal continued constant to the Church. The Regent was still liberal towards the Protestants. The contradiction was obvious. The uncertainty returned, and was increased by other causes. The minister had been instructed to urge on Arran's Grovernment three especial requests. The first, for a license for the general use of the Bible, had been at once fulfilled. The second, for the abolition of the Papal supremacy and the suppression of the monasteries, was under consideration, and appeared to be desired. The Earl declared, without reserve, that 'he thought all monasteries were founded to pray for souls in purgatory; and, if there were no purgatory, as he was clearly of opinion that there was not, their foundation was vain and frustrate.' The third point in the commission, which had been hitherto reserved, tested the truth of the queen-mother's story that Arran entertained a private design in the marriage question. It was a ​proposal, in the event of his fidelity, for an alliance between the son whom Mary of Guise pretended that he designed for the young Queen, and the Lady Elizabeth. The suggestion was now brought forward as an experiment of the Earl's honesty, and, to Sadler's surprise, was received with cordial gratitude. The Regent did not deny that he had thought of the other connection, before the King's wishes were made known to him; but he had relinquished all expectation of it, and was delighted at the honour of the King's offer.
These things made in the Earl's favour; but the atmosphere was impregnated with lies. Lord Fleming declared that Arran had said to him 'that sooner than the Queen should marry into England, he would carry her away into the Isles;' Arran evidently dreaded the Cardinal; the Cardinal, as Sir George Douglas as well as the Queen now protested, was in his heart devoted to England; and even at times Sadler himself found the Regent 'utterly determined to abide the extremity of war rather than condescend to the accomplishment of the King's desires.'
If the Scottish question had waited for its solution till the intentions of the nobles could be discovered from their language, the perplexity threatened to be of long continuance. But, in the mean time, Henry had submitted a definite demand to the Scottish Parliament, and they had returned him a definite answer. The despatch of it had been delayed; but the questionable ​embassy to whom it had been entrusted had at length reached London. Their message was delivered, and bore immediate and substantial fruit. The King was sick of lying and tired of evasion. The imagination that, on the union of the two nations, an independent Regent would be permitted to rule in Scotland by hereditary right was too absurd to be entertained. The ambassadors were desired to return instantly, with an intimation that, if the negotiations were to be renewed, it must be through persons whose insignificance should not in itself be an affront. The Scots were alarmed, for Henry was reported to be serious. Lord Glencairn and Sir George Douglas hurried to London, and in three weeks returned with the King's own counter-propositions—so reasonable, he said himself, that, if they were not accepted, 'he would follow his purpose by force;'—so moderate, says Knox, 'that all that loved quietness were contented therewith.' He relinquished his demand for the immediate delivery of the young Queen. She might remain in her own country till she was ten years old; in the mean time, as pledges for the fulfilment of the contract, three Scottish earls and three bishops or barons must reside in the English Court. Their places might be changed half-yearly, but the number should be kept complete. For the Government, the Earl of Arran might remain in office during the minority, provided his conduct continued satisfactory, and provided the whole or a portion of the council ​might be nominated by the English Crown. Lastly, the treaty of peace should be immediately drawn, and the Scots should relinquish the French alliance, and bind themselves to make no separate leagues with any foreign county except with Henry's consent.
The arrival of this message brought matters to a crisis. The endurance of England, it appeared, had its limits; and the Scots saw, or seemed to see, that they must choose between acceptance and open war. Arran, whose feeble understanding swayed under every transient impulse, was at first persuaded into defiance; supported by all the lords except Angus, Cassilis, Maxwell, and Glencairn, he determined to reject the terms and face the consequences. The Cardinal tossed aside his now unneeded mask. The fiction of his imprisonment was no longer maintained. He called a convention of the clergy at St Andrew's, where the 'kirkmen,' with all their voices, shouted for war. Supplies were voted to assist the needy noblemen in raising their retainers, and to bribe them to relinquish their designs upon the abbey lands. 'They had liefer,' said Sir George Douglas, 'all the world should sink than they should lose their pomp and glory.' For the moment even those who sincerely desired the success of the English marriage believed it was hopeless. Arran, constant to nothing, was drawn towards the Church party by fear; for a shadow of illegitimacy hung over him which, if desirable, could be converted into a substance. Matthew Stewart, the young Earl of Lennox, next of kin to the Crown in default of the Hamiltons, was introduced from ​France to displace him if he proved intractable, or to awe him into obedience. The Pope had sent fresh powers to his faithful Cardinal. A legate was already on his way from Rome, with 'fulminations of cursing,' and instructions to take the government, if necessary, from a heretic, and confer it upon a dutiful child of the Church. In vain Henry, appealing to the Regent's better nature, advised him 'to play the governour indeed'—to seize Beton and Lennox, with all their adherents, throw them into a dungeon or send them to England. The imbecile Arran could play no part but that of the wind-vane marking the changes in the aircurrents. Amidst the rage of the clergy, the jealous pride of independence, the intrigues of France, and the menaces of the Papacy, 'the English lords'—as the few noblemen of clear sense and genuine patriotism were scornfully called had little chance of prevailing. They continued, nevertheless, resolutely to fight their battle; and two considerable supports they had with ​them—the dread of the English army which hung on the Borders like an undissolving cloud, and the small band of Protestants few in number, but with a resolute purpose, and with a strength which was steadily growing.
MayWith this assistance they could still make head against the stream. An assembly was called at Edinburgh, in the first week in May, to consider Henry's message. One day the English party carried their point. A concession was determined on. The day after, the vote was recalled through the exertions of Beton and Mary of Guise; the lords resolved to send the Queen into France; and the Count de Montgomery was announced as coming over to take charge of her. But if they concluded thus, there would be an immediate invasion; and at last, deciding nothing, they thought they might gain time by keeping up appearances; Glencairn and Douglas were again sent to London, to ask for a modification of the conditions; the war between France and England was on the point of breaking out; if England was occupied with so powerful an antagonist, they would feel more safe in their resistance.
​The ambassadors went and returned. They had found Henry perseveringly moderate—insisting only on essentials, and ready to admit any terms which left the central resolutions unaffected. They left Edinburgh in the beginning of May; at the beginning of June their report was presented to their Parliament; and the French Court being at the moment unable to send a force to assist them in repelling an invasion, and there being no longer any excuse for delay, the Cardinal, with the extreme French party, held aloof from the discussion, foreseeing that, under existing circumstances, they would not carry their point.
There was 'much bickering;' but the alternative of peace or war lay before them in all its harshness. The Catholic fanatics had absented themselves, and the preliminaries of a treaty upon Henry's terms, but with some unimportant reservations, were at last agreed on. The attitude of the opposition gave strength to the peace party; and, as a check on Beton, the Earl of Angus, Lord Maxwell, and others of the Solway prisoners, pledged themselves by a bond to prevent the renewal of the war, to secure the person of the Queen, and, if she were carried off to the Continent by her mother, to be true to Henry, and to acknowledge no government which had not received his sanction. Arran having wavered back to the English side, they promised to support him so long as he remained with them. If the Cardinal, either by assistance from abroad or by intrigues at home, recovered his control in the administration, they would pay him no obedience, and either see the ​treaty fulfilled or assist in annexing the whole country south of the Forth to the English dominions.
July.The sky seemed at last to have cleared. The Regent, though not venturing on Henry's stronger remedy, 'conferred' with Sadler on the prosecution of the Cardinal and Lennox. The favourable resolution of the Parliament was communicated to England; and in conformity with it the two treaties—a treaty of peace, and a treaty for the marriage of the Prince of Wales and the Queen—were immediately drawn.
The former bound the two countries to an alliance during the lives of the reigning sovereigns, and for one year after the death of either. For that time England was not to make war on Scotland, nor Scotland make war on England, upon any pretext; and should either of the two countries be invaded by a foreign power, whatever it might be, temporal or spiritual, even though it called itself the supreme head of Christendom, no assistance was to be given by the subjects of the other, private or public, direct or indirect. The treaty should be observed faithfully and honourably, and was not to be evaded on pretence of ecclesiastical censures or sentences. The debateable land on the Border was not to continue a ​sanctuary for felons aud traitors; they should be arrested, by the consent and assistance of both Governments, which thenceforward should co-operate honourably and firmly in defence of order and quiet.
No conditions could have been more desirable or just; but the hope of the observance of them lay in the accomplishment of the treaty of marriage. The terms which had been conceded on this point have been already stated. The Queen was to remain with her mother till she was ten years of age; and six noblemen were to be required as her securities. If children followed from the connection, and the Crowns were united, the laws and the name of Scotland were rationally and sufficiently guaranteed. If the Queen, should be left a widow without issue, she would return free and unencumbered to her separate kingdom.
To these obligations Henry set his hand at Greenwich on the 1st of July. Sir George Douglas and the Earl of Glencairn signed for Scotland, and forthwith returned to Edinburgh to obtain the formal ratification of the Scotch Parliament. It remained to be seen if Beton would still sit by passively, or at the last moment make another effort. His policy in the past month had been to ignore the assembly at Edinburgh as a faction, and to refuse to recognize any decision as legal to which the clergy had not given their sanction. But force only ​could give weight to his opposition. He had again written for assistance to Francis; and the importance of the crisis had produced the desired effect. On the 30th of June, while the treaties were on the point of completion in England, Sadler reported the presence of sixteen French ships of war on the coast of Aberdeen. They had brought with them money, arms, and artillery. Several thousand men were said to be on board, and to be waiting for directions from the Cardinal on the point at which they were to land. They were to remain as the nucleus of a Catholic army, or to carry off the Queen, as Mary of Guise and her advisers should direct. Six days after, when the ambassadors were known to have returned from Greenwich, the Romanist lords, the abbots, and bishops were assembled in council at St Andrew's. The Regent was denounced as a heretic and a traitor. It was agreed that the noblemen and gentlemen who were within reach of the Border should immediately carry forays into Northumberland, and exasperating the English into retaliation, compel a war in the teeth of the Government, while Lennox, Huntly, Argyle, Murray, and the Cardinal himself should disperse to raise their powers, and again meet at Stirling ​on the 20th of July. So hot had grown the war fever of the fiery churchman, that he was said to have threatened to challenge an English knight, Sir Ralph Evers, to single combat; and, although there was a doubt whether report was telling the truth, yet a message, professedly in Beton's name, was brought to Berwick; while Evers, in reply, signified his entire pleasure at the prospect which was opened to him, and offered, sooner than balk the Cardinal's wishes, to go to Edinburgh to meet him.
The wild humours gathered rapid strength. The appeal from the Parliament to the nation, based as it was upon the antipathy of centuries, was fatally successful; and Holy Church and freedom became a popular war-cry. 'Such malicious and despiteful people,' Sir Ralph Sadler wrote bitterly, 'live not in the world as is the common people of this realm, specially towards Englishmen.' He was himself shot at in the garden of his house at Edinburgh; and he was advised, if he did not wish to be murdered, to take refuge in Tantallon Castle. 'What will follow,' he said, 'God knoweth; for undoubtedly there is great appearance of mischief.' From England only came hope or comfort. Misfortune in the shape of six English cruisers, had overtaken the French fleet. Two of the enemy's ships were taken, three were driven back to France, eleven only crawled into the Forth, having suffered so severely as to make their retreat desirable as ​soon as the sea was open. With the details of the action Henry sent a thousand pounds to Arran, and a promise of help in men and money at any moment that he desired it. He urged him to energy. He advised that without delay the Cardinal and his party should be proclaimed traitors; and if any of them fell into his hands, that, profiting by experience, 'he would so bestow them' where they could give no more anxiety; especially he urged the necessity of securing the Queen's person, and removing her from the indefensible palace of Linlithgow to some safer residence.
But Arran had the vice, so rare in a Scotchman, of weakness. The necessity for action paralyzed in him the power to act. He issued proclamations. He talked of raising twenty thousand men. He would bring the Queen into Blackness. He would meet the Cardinal in the field. But meanwhile, he did no one of these things. He sat still, and waited upon events, and laboured to inflict his own inaction on the English. He even implored Henry, if the Borders were wasted, to bear with it, and abstain from punishing the invaders. 'Tell him,' wrote Henry to his ambassador, 'that we shall so chastise those Borderers as with our advice he may plant others in their places; and for this purpose we shave written to our cousin of Suffolk and our Lord Warden of the Marches.' But the temper of steel could not be transfused into lead. The Regent waited on, and the event came. Henry's ships might sweep the seas, ​the Buccleughs and the Kers might be cowed by the English troops at Berwick, but in Scotland the power of action was with Beton. The gathering at Stirling was accomplished. While the Regent talked Linlithgow was surrounded, July 23.the Queen was secured by his rivals, and transported to their stronghold. As soon as he had lost the ability to interfere, Arran was contemptuously invited to allow her to remain in a national fortress, and under national guardianship. He consented with an affectation of pleasure. The Parliament might indorse alliances and issue proclamations, the strength of the country was with the faction in revolt. The Catholic nobles, confident of victory, now signified their insolent readiness to allow a treaty which they might observe at their convenience or violate at their will; July 30.and while the Wardens of the English Marches were proclaiming peace, they were planning forays on the scale of invasions, to rekindle the war.
On the news of this last misfortune Henry's patience was exhausted. He sent his thanks to the Regent for the services which he had intended to perform. Five thousand men, he said, were in readiness on the Borders. They would enter Scotland, and unite with himself and with the Douglases, whom he called on to fulfil their pledges. If those should be insufficient 'to daunt the Cardinal,' he 'would prepare a greater furniture to suppress his malice.' He assured the governor that, in ​case the Queen was taken to France, 'and otherwise disposed of in marriage,' he would advance the English Border to Edinburgh forthwith, and by force of title and superiority make the Earl of Arran King of Scotland beyond the Forth. 'Twice,' he warned those who had called themselves his friends, 'they had been deluded by the Cardinal—once in his own deliverance, and, again, in the seizure of the Queen; let them beware a third time.' It was wise and honourable to avoid bloodshed, as long as peace was possible; but he would have them understand that if Beton was to rule in Scotland, the nation to the last man should smart for it; and, as a final resource, he recommended a secret and resolute effort to seize Stirling and the insolent churchman in person.
August.Henry understood at last the disposition of the people. His chief mistake was in overrating the power of the Douglases and his other supporters, and in believing that at the last extremity they would take part with him against their country. Sadler, replying to this letter, assured him that five thousand men would be worse than useless. If he intended to conquer Scotland, he must trust for the work to English hands. If his so-called friends kept their promises, they had not a tenant, they had not a follower who, on the first news that an English army had passed the Border, would not hasten to the Cardinal. But in fact, he trusted neither them nor the Regent. They were ​playing, so he now thought, in nis impatience, on Henry's credulity, and were serious only in their anxiety for his money. He advised Henry to stay his liberality, and in the treachery which he saw around him he could console himself with the English reflection, 'that though plainness and truth were ofttimes abused with subtlety and falsehood, yet in the end alway truth triumphed, when falsehood should take reproach.'
To the present conclusion the tide had been setting from the moment of the return of the prisoners. Then, and throughout the history of Henry's transactions with Scotland, the professions were all of one kind, the actions of another. The Cardinal and the queen-mother had been among the loudest in their protests of anxiety for the English alliance. The lords who perhaps sincerely desired it were as inconstant in their conduct as Beton and Mary of Guise were false in their declarations.
So entirely had the leading statesmen accustomed themselves to treat words as convenient counters, that, in the face of the attitude of defiance which the nation had assumed, it is no matter of surprise to us to find the Scotch Parliament, within a few days of Sadler's last despairing letter, ratifying in form the treaties of Greenwich. The reluctance ceased from the momsnt that the Queen was secure in Stirling. A convention of the nation sat in August, at which, though the Cardinal did not appear, the majority of the nobles were ​present; and so slight a thing it seemed to bind themselves to verbal promises, that in the name and presence of the three Estates of the realm, tho Earl of Arran swore before the English ambassador to observe the terms of peace and the conditions of the marriage contract.
The imbecility of the Regent discourages an attempt to interpret his conduct. He professed to believe that Beton would acquiesce; and the day which followed the signature he went in person to St Andrew's, as he pretended, to obtain his consent. But Angus, Glencairn, and Cassilis affected no such delusion. They understood and acknowledged the empty hollo wn ess of the ratification; they regretted too sadly that they had dissuaded Henry from entering Scotland in force after Solway. They scattered to their homes, to collect their strength, and to stand on their own defence, while Arran, on reaching St Andrew's, found that the Cardinal would neither see nor communicate with him: and he vented his ineffectual spleen in proclaiming his own and Scotland's master a traitor.
On the 25th of August the Regent had expressed his belief that Beton 'would prove an honest man to his Majesty of England' and to his country: on the 28th he denounced him as a public enemy. On the 3rd of September there was one more change, and the bubble finally burst. The Cardinal was more courteous than he had seemed. In return for the Regent's visit, Sir John Campbell of Lundy presented himself at Holyrood, and, after a secret interview, Arran in a few hours was once ​more on the road to his spiritual father's palace, not any more to persuade him to accept the treaty, not to arrest him for treason, but to ask pardon at his feet, of God and Holy Church, for his own delinquencies. His attitude was now satisfactory: he was welcomed as a returned prodigal. After confessing his offences in having given encouragement to heresy, he was absolved and taken back into the Church. The Cardinal had won the battle, and Scotland was again united.
The reconciliation, which was intended to secure the independence of the country, was immediately marked by a public assertion of it. Sept. 11.A proclamation was sent out that the infant Queen would forthwith be crowned at Stirling. A council of state was chosen, under the presidency of the queen-mother, in which, as an evidence of the return of unanimity, a seat was offered to the Earl of Angus; and the English ambassador, in danger of his life, dared not appear outside his doors. 'I assure you,' he wrote at this crisis to a friend, 'there was never so noble a prince's servant as I am so evil entreated as I am, among these unreasonable people; nor I think never man had to do with so rude, so inconstant, and beastly a nation as this is. They neither esteem the honour of their country nor their own honesty, nor yet—which they ought principally to do—their duty to God, and love and charity to their Christian brethren.' The Cardinal returned in triumph to the capital. Instead of the hostages which ​were promised in the treaty, Henry was insolently told that he might accept, if he pleased, the Solway prisoners, who were on their parole to return. His hopes, a few months before so sanguine, were gone like a dream. His forbearance had been scorned; his credulity had been trifled with. The intrigues of the Papacy, working on a misguided patriotism, had baffled a policy as farsighted as it was generous. Scotland was once more an enemy, and as an enemy it must expect to be dealt with.
The King's first anxiety was for Sir Ralph Sadler, who, he feared, might share the fate of Somerset Herald. To prevent this, or any similar catastrophe, he addressed a few words of warning to the citizens of Edinburgh. 'Being advertised,' he said, 'that our ambassador resident in that town has of late been menaced to be violently and extremely handled, contrary to all law of reason, nature, and humanity, and forasmuch as the injury done to an ambassador hath ever been accounted, among all Christian men, of so high a nature as it was never left unpunished and revenged, we have thought good to admonish you to beware and eschew that outrage whereby ye might worthily provoke our extreme displeasure, and to forbear that attemptate, not only for the detestation of it in all men's ears, but also for fear of the revenge of our sword to extend to that town and commonalty, to the extermination of you to the third and fourth generation.' The menace was brief; but ​it was to the purpose, and would secure Sadler's safety.
For the rest, the King would waste no more time in recrimination or argument. 'When words and writings confirmed solemnly by oath would not serve,' he said, 'such unfaithful people must be constrained to know their duties.' He sent orders to Berwick for ten thousand men at once to enter Scotland, and, if possible, to march on the capital. It was the middle of September, and in favourable weather there would have been still a month for active operations. But the autumn had been rainy; the roads were impracticable for the movements of so large a force; and on the representation of Sir Thomas Wharton, Sir Ralph Evers, and others, the invasion was postponed to the spring. The Cardinal had the winter before him to prepare, and as falsehood cost him nothing, he thought it worth his while to practise even further with English simplicity. After making various efforts to obtain a private audience, he at last secured the English ambassador alone, and expressed his deep regret that he should have offended the King. His conduct had been misunderstood; his motives had been misrepresented. There was no prince in the world, he said, whose favour he desired so much as the King's Majesty's; and no one in Scotland would do more than than he would do, saving his allegiance, to further the wishes of the English Government. If his own persuasions could effect anything, the whole nobility and clergy of the realm should concur in the execution of the treaties.
​October.But he might have spared himself a renewal of dissimulation. England was now at war with France, and the Scotch had already begun to take an active part in the hostilities. Cruisers with mixed crews from the two countries were infesting the Channel. Forays, as usual, had commenced along the Borders. The King replied peremptorily that he had heard the last of fair words. If the Scots again desired to treat with him, Beton and Arran, as a first condition, must he delivered into his hands, or at least deposed from power, and the Government must be made over to a council composed as he would himself direct. Events therefore went their natural course. The promised legate, Marco Grimayni, arrived from Rome with the Pope's blessings and encouragements; and rumour added that Reginald Pole was to follow him with money and four thousand men. In connection with the legate arrived a French ambassador, with ammunition and money. The prisoners of Solway receiving easy absolution, it may be presumed, for their perjury, broke their oaths, and refused to return to England. The Council of Constance, they were assured by the Cardinal, had decreed that no good Catholic was bound by a promise to a heretic; and, out of three noble exceptions who refused the discreditable subterfuge, one only was enabled to save the fame of Scotland by observing his parole. Lord ​Maxwell and Lord Somerville, who would have surrendered had they been able, were arrested and imprisoned; the Earl of Cassilis presented himself singly in London, and the King, 'to the intent that all might know that he had an esteem for virtue,' refused to allow him to suifer for his constancy, and sent him back with honour and reward. The reputation of the house of Angus, which had suffered through the instability of Sir George Douglas, was redeemed in a degree by his son, the Master of Morton, who refused to submit to the Cardinal, and held the donjon-keep of Dalkeith Castle against him till he was starved into surrender. But the resistance was almost single. The people had forgotten their sufferings, and were again French. England, it was said, would betray them into subjection. France required only friendship, and would respect their national freedom. Sadler's presence was no longer ​tolerated. November.He withdrew to Tantallon, and thence across the Border; and Beton, confident in the turn of popular feeling, in the promise from France of six thousand troops, and of unlimited funds for the ensuing year, once more summoned a Parliament. It met the first week in December, with its full number and an entire unanimity. The first Act was to grant an indemnity for the irregular seizure of the Queen's person and the armed gathering at Stirling. A few days later the treaties with England were declared annulled; the French alliance was renewed on terms of the closest amity; and the tide of reaction sweeping steadily back, Arran was compelled to repeat in public the recantation which he had made to the Cardinal. The permission for the use of the Bible was withdrawn; and on the 15th of December 'the Lord Grovernour caused to be shewn and proponed in full Parliament how there was great rumour that heretics more and more rose and spread within the realm, sowing damnable opinions, contrary to the faith and laws of Holy Church; exhorting therefore all prelates and ordinaries, ilk ane within his own diocese, to inquire upon all such manner of persons, and proceed against them according to the laws of Holy Church.'
So closed the year—the King of England being compelled for the present to stand still and see the web unravelled which he had wrought so laboriously. He could do nothing; and could only signify, in a general ​manner, his sense of the conduct of the Scottish people. Dec. 16.The day after Arran's declaration against the Protestants an English herald appeared in Edinburgh, and delivered to the Parliament, perhaps in person, a message in the following words:—
'The most excellent, most high, and mighty prince, my most redoubted sovereign Henry the Eighth, by the Grace of God King of England, France and Ireland, and in earth the Supreme Head of the Churches of England and Ireland, hath given me charge and commandment to declare unto you as followeth:
'First, how his Majesty, being in war with you upon provocation of your late sovereign deceased, and having by his death, and victory given by the hand of God upon such as attempted the invasion of his Majesty's realm, a great opportunity to prosecute the same wars, to the confusion and extermination of such as would have presumed to withstand his force, hath been content—in respect of his pronepte, and upon such a suit as hath been made unto his Highness with a visage and countenance hitherto of humility, due reverence, and submission—to do all things that should tend to the conservation of your lady and mistress; to lay aside armour and puissance, and to enter communication and treaty with you, with conclusion to place his pronepte in marriage with the noble prince his Majesty's eldest son and heir apparent, Prince Edward; and in the mean time and after to live in peace, rest, and quiet with you. To which covenant ye have agreed and consented. This ye have all promised. To this ye have all by the ​governour sworn. This ye have ratified. Only there resteth that, like true men to God and their word, like those that should have respect to honour and loyalty, like those that should more regard the wealth of their mistress than your own affections, ye should duly observe and keep that ye have bargained and promised. Ye should remember with whom ye have covenanted, and to whose commodity and benefit the covenant tendeth. Ye have covenanted with a prince of honour, that will not suffer your disloyalty unpunished and unrevenged; whose power and puissance, by God's grace, is and shall be sufficient against you to make you know and feel your own faults and offences. Ye have covenanted for the wealth of your mistress and the poor commons, to whose great detriment your follies and perverse fancies, if ye observe not your pacts, shall chiefly redound. For as, by the peace and marriage covenanted and agreed, the realm shall be preserved to the behoof of your mistress, and the commons live in quiet, to their great wealth and benefit, so, contrarywise, by your unfaithfulness ye shall destroy that your mistress should enjoy, and be cause and occasion whereby the goods of the poor commons shall be wasted and spoiled at home, and their intercourse letted in outward parts. If ye set more by a little gain, or promise of gain, out of France than by your own honour, if ye care more for the maintenance of the Cardinal's appetites and affections than for the observation of your faith and loyalty, yet fear the hand of God over you—fear the power of a prince able to daunt you—fear, you that take upon you to be ​rulers, the understanding of your own people, who, perceiving your abuses to their confusion, shall not endure them—fear the number of such as be honest among you, that shall not endure to continue in that public shame with you. For your conspiracy in so vil a quarrel cannot continue long, and the Devil cannot be author of unity, but discord. Wherefore the King's Majesty, with prudent considerations, admonisheth you to avoid the dangers of your own misdemeanour, and, with princely courage, signifieth unto you in what sort he mindeth to prosecute the same, and willeth me thus to close up my message unto you.
'If ye do like noblemen, and observe your covenants, laying in such hostages as ye have promised, ye shall be mercifully received and benignly handled.
'If ye do follow and persevere in your conjurations already commenced to the contrary, the quarrel of truth and honour shall be with force and puissance so maintained against you as shall, with God's help, be shortly to your confusion.
'If, in the prosecution of such as be the authors and causers of the mischief, the innocent shall suffer, the King's Majesty will be sorry
'If such as mislike the conspiracy shall use any ways or means to declare their own dissevering from the rest, the King's Majesty shall be glad to know them and spare them, and help their deliverance from inconvenients.
'To this message I ask answer within four days; after which time, if ye say nothing, your silence must ​be construed for the worst answer ye could devise.'
The reply was war, whether given in words or tacitly conveyed in acts. Once more Scotland dared the fortune of arms, and nestled behind the shield of France.
While this long episode was in progress, the European quarrel had developed itself, and England had been drawn into the stream. I have already explained the difficulty which for a time brought the treaty with the Empire to a stand. In the form which Henry desired, and which, as we have seen, he had also prescribed to the Scots, the two powers were to declare themselves enemies to each other's enemies, whether spiritual or temporal. The Emperor objected that the claim might compel him to commit parricide in declaring war against the Pope. Henry protested against an exception which would allow Charles to stand neutral or join with his enemies, should Paul find instruments to invade England. Circumstances were rapidly bringing the Emperor to endure the difficulty from which he could free himself by a refusal to act at the moment of extremity; but, in the mean time, counteracting policies, both in the French and English Courts, combined to delay the conclusion. In Paris the Queen of Navarre, the Admiral de Bryon, and the Cardinal du Bellay, desired peace with England and war with the Empire. The Constable Montmorency, the Duke of Guise, M. d'Annebault, and the Cardinal Tournon were at once ​Romanists and Imperialists, who would gladly see a union among the Catholic powers, and a religious war against heresy. In England analogous parties were contending for supremacy. Gardiner and Bonner looked to an alliance with Charles as their own security against the Protestants. The Duke of Norfolk and his family, for reasons not easy to penetrate, were in the interest of France. Gardiner was the personal enemy of Marillac, the French ambassador. The Duke of Norfolk and his brother, Lord William Howard, were in the habit of paying mysterious midnight visits to the ambassador's house on Tower Hill, and never ceased to labour for the Orleans marriage. 1543. January.The Howards were out of favour at the Court in consequence of the discoveries which accompanied the exposure of the late Queen's misconduct, and it is certain that they were dissatisfied with the private policy of the kingdom; while Marillac was notorious as an adherent of the ​Papacy, and belonged to a third French party, opposed to the Empire, but opposed equally to the Queen of Navarre. The situation is too intricate to be explained with the existing materials; and it is of the less importance, since—although it was not, perhaps, without its effect at the time—another singular incident neutralized at the same moment the Norfolk influence.
The speculations on the succession to the crown had " for some time past been succeeded by speculations on the regency. The Prince was likely to live, but the King grew yearly more infirm. His death was certainly at no great distance; and who was to govern England during the minority? Lord Hertford was most likely to be named. He was the prince's uncle—able and ambitious. But Hertford, though of respectable family, was one of 'the new-raised men'—in patrician eyes, an upstart insolent, little better than a Cromwell; and for Hertford to be playing the part of a sovereign was a thought which, to the nobles of the old blood, was intolerable. The young Lord Surrey especially found the prospect unpleasant to him; and, although the full extent of his imaginations remained for three years longer concealed, an accident in the present winter made it known that he was encouraging perilous expectations.
In the middle of January a party of gentlemen, of whom Surrey was one, amused the long hours of a winter night by a riot in London. They paraded the streets with 'stone bows'—they broke the windows of houses and churches, and shot 'pellets' among 'the ​queans upon the Bankside.' After these and other proceedings of imperfect propriety, they disappeared among the unlighted alleys of the City. They escaped detection for the night. In the morning they were traced to the house of a certain Master Arundel, in Laurence-lane. Their names were taken, and the rank of the offenders led to an inquiry by the privy council. The immediate matter was no more than a pardonable frolic; but the examination of the witnesses, especially of Mrs Arundel's servants, showed that Surrey allowed himself to be regarded by his friends as more than the hero of a midnight disturbance. Surrey in ​past years had been a favourite with Henry. An arrest and an admonition were considered an adequate punishment for an act of folly; and he was acquitted of responsibility for the language of others. But conduct which, under any interpretation, was discreditable, added to the cloud over the family; and Norfolk could effect but little in the direction of English policy.
Events dragged on, therefore, in uncertainty. Francis varied as his moods swayed him. In his interviews with the English ambassador he was alternately overflowing with passion and expressing the utmost anxiety for Henry's friendship. At one time he admitted his debts by desiring to compromise them; at another he would declare that Henry had broken the conditions, and had no claims upon him. Jan. 20.In his first disappointment at the disaster on the Solway he instructed Marillac to attempt to rearrange his relations with the English Government. Henry replied that he was ready to meet him in any reasonable agreement; but the money question could not be postponed. He sent in a formal schedule of his claims, with copies of the obligations by which Francis had bound himself, and refused to allow any settlement short of an ​honest payment. He dilated naturally on the behaviour of the French in Scotland. French pirates were hanging about his coasts in fleets; and at that very moment when the French Government were professing a desire for conciliation, they were permitting Scotch cruisers to seize English merchant-ships as they lay at anchor in their harbours under the guns of their forts. If Francis desired a reconciliation, he must alter his conduct as well as his words. If he intended to act as a friend, he had better recall Marillac, and send over some more temperate minister.
Weary of listening to language with which conduct was in perpetual contradiction, Henry had learnt the necessity of replying to acts by acts. While Francis was debating his answer to this message, listening in the morning to d'Annebault, in the evening to Margaret of Navarre, he took the pirate difficulty again into his own hands. French ships, calling themselves traders, had pillaged English fishing-smacks, and were caught red-handed, with the stolen nets and lines on board. February.Remonstrances had brought no redress, and the Portsmouth fleet again dashed out and seized a number of the offenders, condemned the vessels, and threw the crews into prison. Circumstances thus came to the assistance of the irresolution of the French King. The war-party were allowed to retaliate; and orders were sent out to arrest all English merchantmen in every part of France. Sir William Paget ​demanded the meaning of so violent a measure. Cardinal Tournon, in the name of the council, replied by taking the cause of the pirates. The fishermen who had been robbed were interested parties. Their oaths and the recognition of their property were no evidence. The English had commenced the injury; if they desired reparation, they must set the example also. Paget became violent. Tournon encouraged by contemptuous indifference the spirit which he wished to rouse. Henry supported his minister. He required an instant release of the ships. He approved entirely of Paget's language and attitude. His subjects should not be injured; and if the French Government desired war, they had better declare themselves enemies.
Feb. 6.By this time the fire was kindled. 'There was not a child in France but had war with England in his mouth.' The council met at Fontainebleau, and Paget presented his master's message. Tournon affected this time some kind of moderation, and suggested an appointment of commissions to examine the grounds of quarrel. But d'Annebault took the words out of his mouth. 'Methinks,' he said, smiling ​in scorn, 'you declare a rupture of war against us. If the King my master would have believed some of us, we should have begun with you long ere this, for you have given many good occasions; but no man can put it out of his head that the King your master loveth him in his heart naturally. If you be disposed to begin with us, you shall find us ready, and not unprovided, to receive Emperor, Turk, Soldan, and all the devils in hell if they come.' It was ungracious to include so good a friend as Solyman in the possible list of enemies. Feb. 11.But the French council would perhaps have been less peremptory, had they known that four days previously an alliance which they had believed impossible had been really accomplished. The difficulty of the terms had been overcome; the necessities of both England and the Empire had driven them to a compromise; and Henry had consented not to press Charles with an obnoxious word, if Charles on his part would accept the meaning of it when concealed under a general phrase. On the 11th of February a treaty had been concluded contra Franciscum cum Turchâ confœderatum—against Francis, the confederate of the Turk: painful subjects and painful reminiscences were declared to be buried; and the Emperor and the King of England, with their subjects of all degrees, were for ever after to be friends. The conditions which were agreed upon were so important in their consequences, that they require to be detailed in their fulness.
​The contracting powers engaged that they would commit no act of hostility against each other, nor by aid or counsel encourage acts of hostility in others.
They would neither shelter nor assist each other's refugees, nor permit their subjects to shelter them: a refugee whose presence in either country was complained of should depart within fifteen days, under pain of death.
If England or Ireland, the Isle of Wight, the Isle of Man, the Channel Isles, the Marches of Guisnes and Calais, on the one hand, if Spain or the Low Countries, on the other, were invaded by any foreign enemy whatsoever, the two Governments bound themselves respectively to treat as an enemy both the invading power and any other power which might assist the enterprise by contribution of funds or otherwise.
If the invasion was made with a force exceeding ten thousand men, either Government, at the request of the party invaded, should send help within forty days, at its own expense; the aid to be furnished in men or money, as might be required, at the rate of seven hundred crowns a day: provided always that this liability should not be extended beyond four months in any one year. Should the subjects of either sovereign break the treaty by protecting refugees, by acts of piracy, or otherwise, the treaty itself should nevertheless remain in force. The special fault should be the subject of ​special inquiry; and the offenders should be punished without embroiling their Governments.
Letters of marque should not be granted in such cases for reprisals. The ancient commercial treaties should continue to be observed. If disputes arose under them they should be amicably settled.
In case of war with France or any other power, neither England nor the Empire should treat separately either for peace or truce, except under certain narrow conditions especially defined.
Further (and here we trace the effect of the preliminary differences), it was agreed that the two powers would act towards one another honourably, uprightly, and faithfully; that they would do nothing either of them to the prejudice of the present treaty, especially (with a reassertion of the last condition) that no peace should be made with France unless with their joint consent, and unless both declared themselves satisfied: that the present treaty should be of such force as to override all others whatsoever into which they had entered or might enter at a future time: that neither prince should allow or entertain any confederate who should be the enemy of the other, or against whom ​that other had any outstanding claims unsettled.'
They were to swear, each on the word of a prince, and by oath upon the Gospels, to observe all the articles of their engagements bonâ fide and inviolably. If they broke faith they consented to be held infamous both by God and man. The treaty was to be taken in its plain and obvious signification, 'without those subtleties or oblique interpretations which would, or which might, subvert the just understanding between the contracting princes.'
Henry had thus bound Charles down with as much solemnity and distinctness as words could bind him, to be true to his faith as a man and as a king, and not to avail himself of the evasions which the Pope, in the name of religion, might urge upon him. He was now satisfied and confident; and the treaty concluded with a resolution to present joint demands to Francis, in the following terms:—
'Forasmuch as the Turk, the inveterate enemy of the Christian name and faith, has invaded Christendom, trusting to the support of the King of France; and forasmuch as with the like encouragement the said Turk is now notoriously devising fresh enterprises, to the destruction of all good men, the high contracting powers do require the King of France to desist from his intelligence with the said Turk, to treat him as an enemy, and to recall his ambassadors now residing at that Court. The King of France shall make satisfaction for ​the injuries inflicted on Christian countries by invasions undertaken at his solicitation. He shall restore the town of Maran to the King of the Romans. He shall make good to the Emperor and to the German Diet all such sums of money as they have spent in the war with the Turk; and he shall cease to make war upon the Emperor, and shall leave him at leisure to watch over the defence of Christendom. He shall pay to the King of England those debts which he fraudulently withholds from him; and, as security for the future payment of the pensions to the King of England, he shall surrender and place in his hands the towns of Boulogne, Mottreul, Terouenne, and Ardres, with the country intervening and adjoining.'
If in fear of the punishment about to fall upon him, the King of France would treat for peace, and would consent to honourable conditions, those conditions should be accepted. But (in anticipation that Francis would offer concessions to one sovereign in order to divide him from the other) the contracting powers bound themselves further never to make peace till they mutually obtained that justice which they held to be their due, nor until they had considered in common the terms which he might propose. Should he return no satisfactory answer within ten days of the presentation of the above demands, they would together declare war, and not ​desist therefrom until the Duchy of Burgundy should be restored to the Emperor, and England had recovered her ancient rights in Normandy and Guienne, and in the sovereignty of France. Finally, within a month of the declaration, the Imperial and English navies should unite to defend the narrow seas; and at some period within two years of the ratification of the treaty their armies, each not less than twenty-five thousand eight hundred strong, would together invade France.
Rumour had whispered on the Continent the possibility of such a treaty; but the events of the ten past years—the unpardoned, and, as was supposed, the unpardonable affront which Henry had offered to the Spanish nation; the attitude which Charles had so repeatedly been upon the point of assuming as the champion of the orthodox faith; the schemes of invasion so often discussed; the intrigues in Ireland, and with the English Catholics, added to the Emperor's own repeated declarations that he would ally himself to England only when England had returned to the Church—these things, in spite of warning symptoms, had forbidden the world to believe that such a combination could take effect until it was actually accomplished; and the consternation which the reality created when actually present, was proportioned to the previous incredulity. The friends and the enemies of the Papacy saw the consequences developing themselves before their imagination in the ruin of the powers which they loved ​or detested. Paul, in anticipation of the catastrophe, had bewailed 'the secret and impious councils'—'the new and deadly discords' which menaced the Church. The small scruple which had been raised over a word did not suffice to excuse an act which, construed most favourably, was a defiance of the Papal censures; and Charles, it was evidently believed at the moment, intended to follow the King of England to the full extent of disobedience. Those, on the other side, who dreaded the Turkish galleys for themselves, or Turkish seraglios for their wives and daughters, more than the possible decrepitude of the See of Rome—those who wished well to rational freedom in Christendom—who would have Popish and Protestant fanatics alike crushed into moderation—rejoiced in an alliance which would punish the traitor who had opened the door of Europe to Solyman, and was a first step towards a popular council, where the new opinions could be reasonably considered. 'The Roman Bishop and clergy,' wrote the English resident at Venice to Henry, 'were consumed with sorrow and care, fearing their ruin;' but 'all good men,' he said, 'were beyond measure delighted.' The King of France 'had made himself odious with all men by his practices with the Turk;' and through all Northern Italy 'was an incredible desire and expectation to see his Majesty in arms against France, wherein men ​reckoned to consist the only hope, comfort, and safeguard of Christendom.'
Until the treaty had been ratified by the Emperor in person (which was done with all ceremony and solemnity in Spain, on the 3ist of March), Marchit was not publicly announced; but Paget was recalled from France; a secret of so much importance was virtually none; and Francis, who, like the rest of the world, had, in spite of his pretended suspicions, been really incredulous, was alarmed when the fact broke upon him, and regretted that he had been committed by his minister to extreme measures. Marillac was superseded in haste; as an evidence of pacific intentions, a mild and moderate successor, M. Dorthe, was sent over in his place; and when Paget appeared at Court to present his letters of revocation, they were received with the utmost unwillingness, and the King condescended to explanations and apologies. If any better motive could be imagined to have influenced Francis than fear ​of the coalition against him, and a desire to separate the allies, his language in this interview would not be without interest. He was very sorry, he said, that Sir William Paget was going away. He 'perceived' that his own ambassador 'had not done his part, but had wrought passionately.' 'Howbeit,' he said, 'I trust and believe verily that my good brother—my best brother—my best beloved brother—will not let our public matters fall through for any private folly. Indeed, I cannot find in my heart to believe that my good brother will be my enemy.' The French alliance, he went on to urge, would be far more advantageous to England than the Imperial. If Henry joined the Emperor, he must spend money and be at war; if he remained by the side of France, it would cost him nothing, nor would there be any need for him to break with Charles. 'And what,' he added, 'if the Emperor and I join together, in what case is he then, if I will use extremity? If my brother will go with me, tell him I shall stick upon no money matters: he shall rule me as he list. For the ships, they be but trifles between him and me, and no great cause to part our friendship. He shall himself set therein what order he list; and so I pray you heartily to tell him.'
Three weeks before, such language would have prevented the rupture. It was now too late. Henry was bound by new engagements, which he was not at liberty to violate. Paget returned to England; and the formal ​requisitions which, would precede the war were prepared for delivery.
Meanwhile, the spring was coming on; and with the spring the Turks were expected before Vienna. Enormous preparations had notoriously been made at Constantinople. Unfortunately, but a slight preparation to meet them had been attempted in Germany. Ferdinand's disasters in the two preceding summers had roused no spirit of national gallantry. The Princes of the Empire were quarrelling among themselves, or were sitting still in obstinate despondency. It is remarkable that, at this great moment of peril, the 'religious' parties, properly so called, of both persuasions, were insensible to their immediate duty. Papists and Lutherans, alike passionately bent on doctrinal objects, left the defence of Europe to the allied powers, whom they both denounced as lukewarm and unchristian. The Elector and the Landgrave of Hesse were busy expelling Henry of Brunswick from his principality. The Duke of Cleves, now in alliance with Francis, was forcibly annexing the Duchy of Gueldres, a fief of the Empire, and was at war with the Netherlands. The diet met at Nuremberg on the 23rd of February; but few of the princes were present in person, and their representatives only assembled to quarrel. The Regent of Flanders desired them to mediate in the dispute with Cleves. Granvelle entreated for money and men for the Turkish war. But the name of the Turks was a weariness; and the war with France was a private quarrel of the Emperor. The Catholic princes were ​anxious rather to arrange a persecution of the Lutherans. The Lutherans, intolerant as their opponents of opinions which they considered heterodox, desired freedom of religion to the extent of their own liberality, and a reformation of the Chamber of the Empire—the supreme legal court of appeal, by which, as at present constituted, Protestant communities were made amenable to Catholic canons. When these matters had been attended to, and not till then, they would consider Granvelle's demands. In the mean time the Elector of Saxe sent assistance to his brother-in-law the Duke of Cleves; and the Hungarians, worn out with suffering, were reported ready to acquiesce in destiny and submit to the Porte. The hopes of all moderate persons lay in the speedy arrival of Charles out of Spain; and the early summer, at the latest, was to find him in Germany. On his route he would pass through Italy, where it was expected that he was to hold an interview with the Pope, to urge on the Holy Father his forgotten duties; to warn him against encouraging Francis, or in deeper blindness mixing in the quarrel; to protest against any sudden convocation of a council, and to make palatable the English alliance, by holding out the ​delusive hope that Henry would return to his allegiance.
A remonstrance was necessary if the Empire and the Papacy were to escape being forced into a rupture. Sleeping and waking, Paul had but the one idea before him, how best to destroy England; and Scotland and France, the two present enemies of his great adversary, he was instinctively desirous to support.
The interview between the Pope and the Emperor took effect in June, apparently with beneficial results. Rumour, which had decided beforehand on the object of it, confirmed its anticipation with imaginary accounts of its details. But the secret on both sides was carefully kept, and if a record remains of the actual conversation, it lies among the unrevealed mysteries in the Vatican. Only this was certain, that Reginald Pole, who, with four thousand French and Germans, was about to proceed to Scotland to the assistance of Beton, was compelled to relinquish his intention; and the Emperor, after this outward evidence of loyalty to his engagements, began, at the close of the month, his eventful march into Germany.
Henry, on his side, had also given evidence of constancy. The appeal of Francis to Paget having failed, the English and Flemish heralds demanded access, in conformity with the treaty, to present their requisitions to the French Government. The permission was refused, and a separate note was in consequence submitted by the privy council to M. Dorthe. The condition of ​Europe, the advance of the Turks, and the peril which the ambition of the King of France had occasioned to the whole Christian faith, had determined the King of England, they said, in connection with the Emperor, to insist on the relinquishment of his shameful and ungodly alliance. Individually they had to complain of unpaid debts; of breach of treaty in the maintenance of English traitors; of intrigues in Scotland, both under the late King and since his death, to keep alive an unmeaning and mischievous hostility; of the seizure of the English merchant-ships in their harbours; and the arrest of English subjects resident in France. For their particular injuries they required reparation, with security for the future payment of the pensions, and for a cessation of their vexatious interference with their neighbours; while a reasonable satisfaction must be made for the attack upon the Empire, with such guarantees as would secure the peace of Europe for the future. If these demands were complied with, the King of England was ready and willing to remain on good terms; but an answer must be returned within three weeks, or war was virtually declared, and would be continued by sea and land, till France was compelled into submission.
​If Henry had been faithless enough to break his engagements with Charles for his separate advantage, he had now an excellent opportunity. M. Dorthe was instructed by his Government to comply almost unreservedly with the peculiar demands of England, if England would allow the French Government to remain obstinate towards the Empire. The arrears of debt should be paid, and even the interest on them. The pensions should be continued and secured, or redeemed for an abundant equivalent. Scotland should be no longer encouraged in resistance. Even the enlargement of the Calais frontier was not absolutely refused; and an interview between the Kings was suggested, when they might settle their differences in person. The overtures were tempting. To have accepted them would have been infamous, but it would have been convenient; and their rejection, which, at the moment, was a matter of course, appeared like a virtue in another year, and in contrast with the conduct, under similar circumstances, of another sovereign. M. Dorthe, at all events, was unsuccessful. His brief residence was immediately terminated, and the settlement ​of Europe was left to the sword, and to intrigue where intrigue might be more availing.
The winter had been spent in resolute preparations through all parts of France to repair the last summer's failures. A blow was to be struck in Flanders before the arrival of the Emperor, June.and at the beginning of June fifty thousand men crossed the frontiers. They obtained a few rapid successes. Among other places, they seized and fortified the important position of Landrecy; and the Court of Brussels being anxious to see Henry committed to active hostilities, intimated their expectation of assistance in compliance with the treaty, and desired that it might be furnished, not in money, but in men. The King consented with the warmth with which the English so often throw themselves into a first campaign. His only condition was, that the troops which he would send should not be cooped in garrisons, but should be employed in the field; and Sir John Wallop, as a further compensation for his late prosecution, was appointed to the command. He was directed to place himself in correspondence with the Imperial generals, and to act as they should think best, although it was intimated as the opinion of M. de Rieulx that his best employment would be the seizure, so long contemplated, of Mottreul.
The contingent under Wallop's command was inconsiderable in number—from five to six thousand men,—but it was composed of the flower of England. The ​gentlemen of the royal household had generally volunteered. Lord Surrey, emerging from under the clouds, was sent over to burnish up his tarnished brightness; and he carried with him a special introduction from Henry to the Emperor, should Charles reach the scene of action before the end of the summer. It was the pride of the English commander that, amidst the miscellaneous concourse of Flemings, Germans, Spaniards, and Italians, who formed the Imperial force, his own small army should be the model of discipline and order. July.The defence of Flanders requiring the whole available force, the attack on Mottreul was postponed, and the scene of the war lay chiefly along the Flemish frontier, from Landrecy towards Calais. The campaign, on the part of the English, commenced with a passage at arms, which revived the gone days of chivalry. There had been a skirmish under the walls of Terouenne, where a company of mounted archers had especially distinguished themselves. The French had retired within the lines of the town, and the governor being an acquaintance of the English general, the latter sent in a challenge, the circumstances and results of which he thus described in a despatch to the Government:—
​'At night, after our camp was lodged, I sent a letter to the captain, and the effect of my letter was that, seeing he would send out no greater number to skirmish with us, if he had any gentlemen under his charge that would break any staves for their ladies' sakes, I would the next morning appoint six gentlemen to meet with them. Whereunto, early in the morning, he sent me a letter that he had appointed six gentlemen to meet me by the way at nine o'clock, with certain conditions, which I kept and observed accordingly. And those I sent to run against them, by their own requests, were Mr Howard, Peter Carew, Markham, Chelley of Calais, with two of mine own men, Calverley and Hall: and by report of those that did behold them, they did run well, and made very fair courses. Mr Howard at his first course brake his staff in the midst of the Frenchman's cuirass galiardly. Markham strake another upon the headpiece like to have overthrown him. Peter Carew also brake his staff very well, and had another broken on him. Calverley, my man, was praised to make the fairest course of them all; yet, by the evil running of a Frenchman's horse, that fled out, strake him under the armpit through the body, and pierced his harness in the back, so that he is sore hurt, and in great danger, not able to be brought back to our camp, but carried to Terouenne, where he is well intreated. This morning, having heard from them, I have some hopes of his life.'
​History closes over the scene. We know not whether the gallant Calverley lived or died; and the pageantry of war soon gave place to its harder realities. But, on the whole, the campaign lingered. Though superior in number the French declined an action, and contented themselves with fortifying the towns which they had taken at the outset. The garrisons of Guisnes and Calais were successful in several slight enterprises on the Marches. The eleven French ships which had been driven into Leith, and had been reduced to nine, either by the loss or departure of two of their number, were again waylaid, and four more of them were captured. But de Rieulx waited for the arrival of Charles before attempting to act on the offensive; and on the side of the Low Countries, the summer was passing away undistinguished by any event of importance. In Piedmont de Guasto had won a victory, but he had been unable to follow it up into substantial success. In the Mediterranean, Barbarossa was omnipotent, and was wasting the coasts at his pleasure. He passed along the shores of Italy, pillaging and destroying. At Ostia alone, of all places which he visited, he brought disgrace upon the Pope by abstaining from violence, and, with suspicious clemency, paid for the supplies which he required. From thence he passed on to Toulon, where, ​as an honoured ally, ho was received with a splendid hospitality. The French fleet, when he again sailed, put to sea in his company, and, for the first time in history, the Crescent and the Fleur-de-lis were seen floating side by side iii a joint enterprise against a Christian state. Villa Franca fell to the strange allies, and afterwards the town and harbour of Nice. The castle held out till de Guasto could arrive for its relief. But this was the only check which the Turkish admiral had met with. No power could be raised which could hope to cope successfully with him at sea; and, after sweeping the waters in the insolence of a force which he knew to be irresistible, he returned to Toidon, which had been made over to him as a winter station by the King of France.
Strange and offensive, however, as these proceedings appeared, they were still of secondary moment. The eyes of Europe were mainly turned on the central figure of the Emperor. He had made his preparations at his leisure. By midsummer a hundred and twenty cannon had been cast for him at the foundries of Augsburg. Ammunition waggons were prepared and loaded, and ​shot and shell were reported as rising in piles of unimagined magnitude. Thirty thousand Spaniards and Italians were known, in the beginning of July, to have left Milan for Germany; but where the storm was to break, all men were asking and none could answer. The intended movements were a well-kept secret. So strangely were parties confused that nothing could be guessed from probability. Charles and Henry were on one side. Francis, on the other, had sought allies where he could find them; and was in marvellous combination with the Pope and Solyman, with the Duke of Cleves, and through the Duke, with the Elector of Saxe. The Catholic princes of the Empire could not support Charles without indirectly injuring the Papacy. The Lutherans, in attaching themselves to France, were supporting Paul against England; although, at the moment, the Lanzknechts of Cleves, under Martin von Rosheim, were campaigning, like the Covenanters of the following century, with the sword in one hand and the Bible in the other. In such a labyrinth who could foretell the course which the Emperor might choose? ​The moderate Germans, who had expected him with such anxiety, felt their hearts fail them when they learnt the form in which he was at last coming. For the first time the free soil of their country would be trodden by the Spanish infantry, with whose prowess and whose cruelty two hemispheres were ringing. Henry, too, was not without uneasiness. An ally who was sharing the dangers of a campaign was entitled to confidence; and Charles's secrets were locked impenetrably in his own cabinet. There had been a meeting with the Pope, and a veil was flung over it. The treaty had stipulated for ships from Spain or the Low Countries, to assist in protecting the Channel; the English had sent their contingent into Flanders; but the Imperial cruisers delayed their appearance, and the Portsmouth fleet was defending the harbours of Holland. An English renegade, again, a friend of Pole—who, at the request of Bonner, had been imprisoned at the Castle of Milan,—had escaped unaccountably, and, as it seemed, with official connivance. The Emperor, the King considered, was more careful of his own interests than of those of his ally.
But Charles's intentions were not long in revealing themselves. July 25.On the 25th of July he arrived at Spires. His army followed him in detachments, and was collected in full force by the middle of ​August. Germany, and not France, it was now clear, would be his first object; and those who had outstanding disputes with him had hastily to look to themselves. The Elector and the Landgrave of Hesse sent to him to express a hope that he did not mean to interfere with their religion. They volunteered explanations of their conduct to the Duke of Brunswick, and would submit their case to the Diet. They had reason to be anxious, for their turn would come when Charles was strong enough to deal with them; for the present, his displeasure was satisfied with the punishment of a meaner offender. The Duke of Cleves had replied to the remonstrances of the Emperor on the occupation of Gueldres by invading Holland and Brabant. He had broken his oath as a prince of the Empire by an alliance with a hostile sovereign; and Francis had promised to be at his side before Charles's arm could reach to touch him. The Duke of Cleves, the first of the German powers, was to learn a lesson of obedience. The Archbishop of Mayence, while Charles was still at Spires, came forward, uncommissioned, to intercede; but his interference was set aside with a calm peremptoriness. August 20.On the 20th of August the Emperor, accompanied by Bishop Bonner, embarked upon the Rhine, taking with him thirty thousand veteran soldiers and a train of artillery; for which alone, with the ammunition, he had collected three thousand transport horses. August 22.On the 22nd he was at the gates of Duren; and a herald was sent forward with a proclamation in writing, that whereas William, Duke ​of Cleves, had broken the peace of Germany, had rebelled against the laws of the Empire, and had united himself through France with the enemies of the Christian faith; whereas he had invaded the territories of his liege lord and destroyed his subjects; and whereas the inhabitants of Duren had hitherto assisted the said Duke of Cleves in that his ungracious and unnatural rebellion,—the Emperor willed and commanded them immediately to yield themselves to his mercy. If they obeyed, he would receive them into his favour. If they resisted, they would resist at their peril.
The town was strong, and powerfully garrisoned. A storm was thought impossible; and the stores of provisions within the walls would last till the winter, when a besieging army would be driven from the field. The herald was told scornfully that he might take his proclamation to those from whom it came: the soldiers of Duren knew no reading; he pretended to come from the Emperor; the Emperor had fed the fishes of the Mediterranean when he was seeking to return from Algiers, and from him they had nothing to fear.
August 24.Before forty-eight hours had expired they found reason to know that neither was Duren impregnable nor the Emperor a delusion. The second morning after their reply the Spaniards were led up to the walls, and, after a struggle of three hours, the garrison ​broke and fled. Seven hundred were killed. The rest, attempting to escape on the other side of the town, fell into the hands of the Prince of Orange. Charles, coolly merciless, refused to spare a man who had borne arms against him. The commander was hanged before the gates: the other prisoners were variously executed. By the sunset of the 24th of August the town of Duren was left to the possession of old men and children, and the dishonoured widows of its late defenders.
No second example was required of the consequences of resistance to the arms of the Emperor. Strong cities, powerfully garrisoned, lay in his course as he descended the Rhine; but a panic opened their gates for him. The keys of Gurlik were brought to him by women: every able-bodied man had fled. Bergen, Ruremonde, Herclens, Nieustadt, Stittart, surrendered at a summons. At Venlo only was there found courage to attempt a second defence; and at Yenlo the terrified townsmen prepared to compel the soldiers to submit. All that side of Germany lay at once at Charles's feet. The old Duchess of Cleves, the Puritan mother of Anne, died of sorrow, 'raging,' so wrote Dr Wotton, 'and in a manner out of her wits for spite and anger.' Bonner's train were attacked and almost murdered in the streets of Cologne by some of her partisans; and the unfortunate Duke drew his sword upon his own minister in his council-chamber. Helpless before his gigantic antagonist, he had to choose between submission and ​destruction equally instant. September.On the 7th of September, with the Duke of Brunswick and ten other gentlemen, he rode in deep mourning into the Imperial camp, and fell at Charles's feet, in time barely to save Venlo from the fate of Duren. He confessed his offences, he implored mercy, he renounced Gueldres, and even offered to do homage for Cleves, which had been hitherto independent. Never in so brief a time had success been more rapid or overwhelming. And the Emperor could say with truth that the defeat of the Duke of Cleves was the heaviest blow which he could have inflicted upon France. But, if it was a blow against France, it was a side-blow at the Reformation. The news was coldly received in England; nor was Henry better pleased when he learnt that, as an immediate sequel of the victory, Charles had sent a menacing message to the Elector to restore the monks and nuns whom he had ejected from their houses in the Duchy of Brunswick. Bad news, too, came from Hungary. The English treasury had supplied money to Ferdinand for a third campaign, which had again been ​a failure. Gran had fallen to the Turks, with heavy loss; and the women and children were sent away from Vienna to Ratisbon. The common cause was neglected; and Charles's triumphs, so far, caused as much uneasiness as pleasure.
The King, however, was better satisfied by hearing from Italy of high language which had been used in his favour by the Spanish ambassador to the Pope, and by the Emperor to Cardinal Farnese; and the Emperor himself gave a further and unmistakeable evidence of zeal in hastening, as soon as the matter of Cleves was disposed of, to the allied camp in Flanders, notwithstanding that he was suffering from a severe attack of an enemy as capricious and implacable as the King of France—the gout. The strong will of Charles V. ruled alike his constitution and his passions. Whether sick or well, if possible, he meant to fight a battle with the French before the season closed; October.and on the 19th of October he was at the lines of Landrecy, behind which de Vendosme lay intrenched.
His first step—perhaps because he felt a special ​compliment to his ally to be desirable was to review the English army, when he charmed every one with his courtesy and unaffected manliness. 'I brought him,' said Sir John Wallop, 'to the upper part of the camp, and so along. He, beholding well our army, standing fourscore in a rank, and after having beheld the fortifications thereof, did like them marvellously well—and so did all the other strangers that came with him—saying he had not seen anything of that sort—meaning a trench that I devised more than a pike length and a half from the carts. To whom I said, the first device of such trenches was made to annoy him. How, quoth he, and when? I answered, it was when the French King's camp lay joining to Vienne, when his Majesty came into Provence, I being there at that time. And as he rode a little lower, beholding the same, he saw upon the top of the said trench all your Majesty's captains and petty captains, appointed right well, like men of war, in very warlike apparel. He asked me who were those; and I showed him that they were the captains and the lieutenants of the footmen, and the most part your Majesty's household servants: 'Par ma foy, disoit il, voila une belle bande de gentilhommes.' He began to tell me how sick he had been; and the day before he came hither he assayed his harness, which was a great deal too wide for him, notwithstanding he had made him a great doublet bombasted with cotton. He said further, if the French King come, as he saith he will, I will live and die with you Englishmen.'
​The town of Landrecy was the present object of both armies. The French had taken it, and intended to leave a garrison there for the winter. They meant to remain in the field till the season should make the siege impossible. The Emperor insisted as resolutely that he would stay till the place was recovered, or the enemy were forced to a battle. His huge artillery was incessantly at work. Mortar-batteries were erected, on a plan of Henry's, on adjoining heights; and the shells were heard bursting in the town and the French camp. Still no impression was made. De Vendosme refused to be dislodged; and Charles determined on a flank march and an attack upon the rear. He surveyed the country in person, with an escort of English light cavalry; and a series of manœuvres followed—on the one side to avoid, on the other to compel an engagement. The weather was unfavourable, the roads heavy. The four months were expired during which, by treaty, the English were bound to remain; and they had their eyes still on Mottreul and Boulogne, which were ungarrisoned ​and might be carried easily by a coup de main. But Charles entreated that they would not leave him; November.and at last, in the first week of November, there was a prospect of something decisive. The French had retreated upon Cambray. On Saturday, the 3rd, there had been a severe skirmish; and the Monday morning following had been fixed for a storm of the camp. But de Vendosme had gained his point. The weather and the lateness of the season secured Landrecy till the spring; on Sunday night he withdrew silently from his position, and by daybreak his whole force were across the frontier. It was too late to interrupt or overtake them. The cavalry harassed their rear, but with indifferent success; and a party of English gentlemen—Sir George Carew, Sir Thomas Palmer, and Mr Edward Bellingham—pressing on too hotly in the pursuit, were entangled in a wood, and were made prisoners. The campaign was over for that year, and the allies were dispersed.
The winter set in, and brought with it, in the suspension of hostilities, an interlude of intrigue. The Pope laboured ineffectually to bring the Emperor to agree to a peace. Francis permitted the factions which divided his council to make attempts to separate the allies. But for the present they were staunch to one another and true to the treaty. Charles publicly thanked Wallop for his services. More than twenty vacancies in the order of the Golden Fleece were placed ​by him at Henry's disposal; and the disbanded Spaniards had so far forgotten the injuries of Queen Catherine, that they volunteered into the English service.
Some embarrassment was created by the Scotch question, for the treaty bound Charles to be an enemy to the enemies of England, and as the attitude which Scotland had assumed towards Henry was the special work of the Pope and the Pope's friends, to side with Henry in his attempts at conquest would have increased the anomaly of his position. But he contrived to evade or postpone the difficulty. Unpleasant subjects were buried under mutual civilities; and the year closed with an arrangement for the movements of the ensuing summer.
The two sovereigns agreed to invade France simultaneously, either in person or by their lieutenants. An English and Imperial army should enter on the 20th of June—the latter by the Upper Rhine, the former from Calais by the Somme—and endeavour, if possible, to effect a meeting at Paris. If they succeeded, their future operations would be decided on in the French capital; but it was admitted that the movements of armies could not be arranged beforehand with certainty; ​the commanders in both cases were to consider themselves free to act by the dictates of military prudence, unfettered by absolute conditions. The invading force on each side was increased from that which was fixed originally in the treaty of alliance to forty thousand men; and the Regent of Flanders would undertake the commissariat and transport services for the English, even to finding vessels to bring them across the Channel.
With this resolution, with the disposal of overwhelming strength, and, on the part of the King of England at least, with no objects which were not openly avowed, the allies looked forward with confidence to certain and rapid victory.
{{c|END OF VOL. III.
* ↑ Paget said that Francis 'sat with a sour countenance' while he delivered his message. He then hroke into a passion, cut Paget's story short, and said 'Tush, tush. M. l'Amhassadeur, I will be plain with you; it was the point you went ahout to break him from me, and because you could not compass that by fair means, you went about with force.'—State Papers, vol. ix. p. 246, &c.
* ↑ The Council of Scotland to Henry VIII.: State Papers, vol. v. p. 231.
* ↑ The popular belief was that the document was signed after death. 'As many affirm,' says Knox, 'a dead man's hand was made to subscribe a blank that they might write above it what pleased them best:' and see Buchanan and Calderwood. The Earl of Arran told Sir Ralph Sadler that 'the Cardinal did counterfeit the late King's testament, and when the King was even almost dead, he took his hand in his and caused him to subscribe a blank paper.'—Sadler Papers, vol. ii. p. 136, &c.
* ↑ The upper classes in Scotland were so fickle, that their prevailing disposition is not easily discoverable. It is clear, however, that when by accidental causes the influence of the Church was neutralized, the balance at times inclined towards England and good sense. Paget in January wrote to Henry that he had met a Scotchman in Paris, and had spoken to him about the war. 'The foul evil,' quoth the Scot, 'take them that began it; I am sure it was neither of both Kings,' and laid the fault on the bishops, somewhat railing on them. 'By God's body,' quoth he, 'things had gone otherwise by this time if the temporal lords might have had their will.'—Paget to Henry VIII.: State Papers, vol. ix. p. 263.
* ↑ The difference was, perhaps, more important than it seemed. Sir Ralph Sadler, in a conversation with Sir Adam Otterburn, spoke of the opportunity and occasion offered by God's providence for the two realms to be knit and conjoined in one. 'I pray you,' said Otterburn, 'give me leave to ask you a question: If,' said he, 'your lad were a lass, and our lass were a lad, would you then,' said he, 'be so earnest in this matter; and could you be content that our lad should marry your lass and so be King of England?' I answered that 'Considering the great good that might ensue of it, I should not show myself zealous to my country if I should not consent to it.' 'Well,' said he, 'if you had the lass and we the lad, we could be well content with it; but,' saith he, 'I cannot believe that your nation could agree to have a Scot to be King of England. And likewise I assure you,' said he, 'that our nation being a stout nation, will never agree to have an Englishman to be King of Scotland.'—Sadler Papers, vol. iii. pp. 325–6. Unhappily for the value of the excuse, the Scots had already rejected the offer in the form which they professed to prefer.
* ↑ Sir John Dudley, created Lord Lisle on the death of Arthur Plantagenet, son of Edward IV.
* ↑ State Papers, vol. v. pp. 236–7.
* ↑ Henry VIII. to Lord Lisle: State Papers, vol. v. p. 242.
* ↑ Holinshed.
* ↑ Paget's graphic descriptions must not be mutilated. 'I hear say,' quoth the Scot, 'they [the prisoners] be gone home. Wot you for what cause?' 'I wot not,' quoth I, 'but that it be to make their ransom.' 'I believe not,' quoth he, 'the King your master would let them go home for that purpose.' 'Yea, by my troth,' quoth I, 'for the King my master is a prince of so good faith that he thinketh every other man of honesty to be the same.' 'By God's body,' quoth he, 'they be fools if they come again.' 'Say not so,' quoth I, 'for shame of your country; you never learnt that disloyalty in Scotland.'—Paget to Henry VIII.: State Papers, vol. ix. p. 263.
* ↑ 'I hear credibly that they be much afeared here that your Majesty will marry my Lord Prince to the daughter of Scotland. They say your Majesty doth therein what you can, but they trust to break your purpose.'—Same to same: ibid. p. 273, &c.
* ↑ 'They do boast the Scots,' he adds, 'with brags and lies, that it is wonder to hear.'—State Papers, vol. ix. p. 257.
* ↑ Paget to Henry VIII.: ibid p. 287; letter written in cypher.
* ↑ 'The harbour here is so frozen, that, notwithstanding all the policy and good means possible used, as well in breaking of the ice by men's labour as otherwise, the said ships be not yet gotten out.'—Suffolk to the Council from Newcastle: State Papers, vol. v. p. 244.
* ↑ Lisle and the Bishop of Durham to Henry VIII.: State Papers, vol. v. p. 235, &c.
* ↑ Knox's History of the Reformation in Scotland.
* ↑ Lisle to the Duke of Suffolk; State Papers, vol. v. p. 249.
* ↑ 'Your lordship must consider that you meddle now with the most noble prince and father of wisdom of all the world. His Majesty will not he trifled with in no case.'—Lisle to the Earl of Arran: ibid. p. 250.
* ↑ State Papers, vol. v. p. 250; Sadler Papers, vol. i. p. 108.
* ↑ The Prince, it is to be observed, was described as 'Prince of Wales,' although his formal creation was deferred, and was never actually accomplished.
* ↑ Acts of the Scottish Parliament, March 13th, 1543.
* ↑ Acts of the Scottish Parliament, March, 1543; Sadler Papers, vol. i. p. 59; State Papers, vol. v. p. 271, &c.
* ↑ Acts of the Scottish Parliament, May 15th.
* ↑ 'Then might have heen seen,' says Knox, 'the Bible lying about upon every gentleman's table. The New Testament also was borne about in many men's hands. We grant that some, alas, profaned that blessed word. Some, perhaps, that had never read ten sentences of it had it most common in their hands. They would chop their familiars in the cheek with it and say, this has lain under my bed-foot these ten years. Others would glory, how often have I been in danger for this book, how secretly have I stolen away from my wife at midnight to read upon it. And this was done to make court thereby, for all men esteemed the governour to be the most fervent Protestant that was in Europe.' 'Nevertheless,' he adds, 'the knowledge spread.'—Knox's History of the Reformation.
* ↑ Sir Ralph Sadler to Henry VIII.: Sadler Papers, vol. i. p. 70. One of the many critics who have undertaken to expose my erroneous estimate of the character of Henry VIII. has quoted these words (changing the 'it' into 'him,' and the 'in' into 'against '), as an evidence of the detestation with which the King was regarded by his subjects. I presume that he had seen the passage in a quotation, and was too well satisfied with the burden of it to inquire from what despatch or document it was taken. But the fallacy of extracts could scarcely be carried further.
* ↑ Henry Sadler to Henry VIII.: Sadler Papers, vol. i. p. 84, &c.
* ↑ Sadler Papers, vol. i. pp. 100, 101.
* ↑ Ibid. p. 104.
* ↑ Privy Council to Sadler: State Papers, vol. v. p. 280, &c. It is necessary to relate these dreary intricacies of deception, that Henry's ultimate resentment and the storm which at length he let loose on Scotland may be seen to have been not unprovoked.
* ↑ Ingenium,—'disposition.
* ↑ 'At liberty,' that is, to leave St Andrew's and come to Edinburgh, to take a share in the Government. If he could dupe Henry into a momentary reliance upon him, he would recover his power without difficulty.
* ↑ Sadler to the Privy Council: Sadler Papers, vol. i. p. 108.
* ↑ Sadler Papers, vol. i. p. 115.
* ↑ Ibid. p. 116.
* ↑ Sadler to the King: Sadler Papers, vol. i. p. 128. It is remarkable that the ambassador, though writing to Henry, reports these words with evident sympathy on his own part, and with as evident an expectation that they would be read with approval.
* ↑ Sadler Papers, vol. i. p. 127.
* ↑ Ibid. p. 147.
* ↑ State Papers, vol. v. p. 280, &c. Knox's History of the Reformation
* ↑ 'His Majesty hath thought good to advise him to have such a regard to the matter as he may pull the feathers off his enemies in time, and by that mean provide both for the indemnity of himself and his friends, and also for the advancement of such things as shall tend to the universal benefit of that realm, which forasmuch as it cannot be brought to pass unless that, as well the legate be empeached of his enterprise as also the Cardinal and the Earl of Lennox be better looked upon than they have been hitherto, his Majesty's advice and counsel is that the governour do now shew himself a man of courage, and play the very governour indeed; and procede with great diligence, secrecy, and sufficient furniture of men to the apprehension of them with all their adherents, even now specially, if it can possibly be done, as they sit at their Convocation.'—Privy Council to Sadler: State Papers, vol. v. p. 286.
* ↑ Sadler Papers, vol. i. pp. 190, 191. The Laird of Drumlanrig, who was present, and had promised to inform the Warden of the Marches of the temper of the meeting, said that 'There was so much falsehood and inconstancy among the lords, that such agreement as they determined and made one day they would break the same the next day; so that by reason of their falsehood so often determining and changing their purpose, he would not take upon him to write any news to the Warden.'—State Papers, vol. v. p. 286.
* ↑ 'If there happen any division or trouble to arise in Scotland by practice of the Cardinal, kirkmen, France, or otherwise, we shall stick and adhere only to the King's Majesty's service [until such time] as his Highness may attain these things now pacted and covenanted, or at the least the dominion on this side of the Firth.'—State Papers, vol. v, p. 319. The form was sent from England.
* ↑ A reference to the Pope's Bull of Deposition.
* ↑ Rymer, vol. vi. part 3, p. 93. The treaty was not to extend to the lordship of Lorn in Scotland, nor to the Isle of Lundy. Lorn was notoriously the haunt of outlaws and marauders, and Lundy, after De Valle's followers were destroyed, seems to have been occupied by a fresh gang of French and Scotch pirates.
* ↑ Sadler Papers, vol. i. pp. 225, 226, &c.
* ↑ 'The Cardinal hath not only stirred almost the whole realm against the governour, but also hath procured the Earl Bothwell, the Lord Hume, the Lord of Buccleugh, the Laird of Seaford, and the Kers, which be wholly addict unto him, to stir all the mischief and trouble they can on the Borders, and make raids and incursions into England only of intent to break the peace and to breed contention between the realms.'—Sadler to Lord Parr: State Papers, vol. v. p. 321.
* ↑ Sadler Papers, vol. i. p. 233, &c.
* ↑ State Papers, vol. v. p. 323.
* ↑ Sadler Papers, vol. i. p. 238, &c.
* ↑ State Papers, vol. v. pp. 328, 329.
* ↑ Henry VIII. to Sir Ralph Sadler: Sadler Papers, vol. i. p. 246.
* ↑ Sadler Papers, vol. i p. 262.
* ↑ Sadler to Lord Parr: State Papers, vol. v. p. 535.
* ↑ King Henry VIII. to the Citizens of Edinburgh: State Papers, vol. v. p. 334.
* ↑ State Papers, vol. v. p. 340.
* ↑ Sadler to the Duke of Suffolk: Sadler Papers, vol. i. pp. 306–7.
* ↑ Sadler to Suffolk and Parr: Sadler Papers, vol. i. p. 312.
* ↑ Harvel to Henry VIII.: State Papers, vol. ix. p. 546.
* ↑ Sadler Papers, vol. i. pp. 313, 314.
* ↑ Buchanan.
* ↑ Buchanan.
* ↑ Known in later years as the Regent Morton.
* ↑ 'Assuring your lordships that, as far as I can see, the whole body of the realm is inclined to France; for they do consider and say that France requireth nothing of them but friendship, and would they should continue and maintain the honour and liberty of their realm, which of themselves they naturally do covet and desire; whereas, on the other side, England, they say, seeketh nothing else but to bring them to subjection, and to have superiority and dominion over them: which universally they do so detest and abhor as in my poor opinion they will never be brought into it but by force. And though such noblemen as pretend to be the King's Majesty's friends here could be contented, as they say, that his Majesty had the superiority of this realm, yet I assure your lordships, to say as I think, there is not one of them that hath two servants or friends that is of the same mind, or would take their parts in that behalf.'—Sadler to the Privy Council: Sadler Papers, vol. i. p. 326.
* ↑ Sadler Papers, vol. i. p. 338.
* ↑ Acts of the Scotch Parliament, December 3, 1543.
* ↑ Ibid. December 15.
* ↑ Message of the English Herald to the Scots: State Papers, vol. v. p. 350.
* ↑ 'John Torre saith that at such times as Marillac was ambassador here for France, this examinate upon occasion that he had long dwelt in France did often resort to the said Marillac; and because this examinate used always, in his communications as well with the said Marillac as with his secretary, to declare himself much addressed to the French party, they would often open their minds to him. And the said Marillac's secretary told him that, though there were wars against France, yet should the French King have friends in England, for he hath friends for his money in every country; as also the secretary told him that a woman, whom the said Marillac did keep, had almost marred all, for she being in his house continually did see such as came secretly to his house by night or early in the morning; and being examined whether he had heard any of their names, he saith that Marillac's secretary told him that my Lord of Norfolk and my Lord William Howard did use to come thither by night divers times.'—Deposition of John Torre: MS. State Paper Office, Domestic, vol. xix.
* ↑ The lane which ran down from the south side of Laurence Poultney-church-yard, now known as Laurence Pountney lane.—See Stowe's Survey of London, p. 84
* ↑ 'A meat dealer from the City, examined, deposed that on the 19th of January a maiden servant of one Arundel, of St Laurence-lane, came to him and complained of the meat which had been furnished to her master. She desired 'that at all times she might be serv'ed of the best, for she said that peers of the realm should eat thereof, and besides that a prince.' 'Deponent asked what prince that should be? She answered, the Earl of Surrey. Unto whom deponent said that he was no prince, but a nobleman of honour, and of more honour like to be. Then she said yes; and if aught other than good should become of the King, he is like to be King. Unto whom deponent said, it is not so. said she, it is said so.'''Mistress Arundel, examined, said that the Earl of Surrey and other young noblemen frequented her house, eating meat in Lent, and committing other misdemeanors.' 'Further, she saith, how at Candlemas they went out with stone bows at nine o'clock at night, and did not come back till past midnight, and the next day there was a great clamour of the breaking of many glass windows both of houses and churches, and shooting at men that night in the street; and the voice was that those hurts were done by my lord and his company. Whereupon she gave commandment unto all her house that they should say nothing of my lord's going out in form specified. Item, she said, that that night or the night before they used the same stone bows, rowing on the Thames; and Thomas Clear told her how they shot at the queans on the Bankside. Mistress Arundel also, looking one day at Lord Surrey's arms, said the arms were very like the King's arms, and said further, she thought he would be King, if aught but good happened to the King and prince.''—MS. State Paper Office, Domestic, vol. xiv.
* ↑ State Papers, vol. ix. p. 246, &c.
* ↑ Paget to Henry VIII.: State Papers, vol. ix. p. 271; passage in cypher.
* ↑ The Privy Council to Paget: ibid. p. 277.
* ↑ 'Indeed, sire, to tell you the truth, I swore an oath or two, and with his wilful answers I was somewhat chafed, saying, 'Why think you to have my master in bondage, and will make him do as you list; and in case such order be taken with your ships as pleaseth you, then our ships shall be released, and if the order shall not like you, then our ships shall tarry still?' For the passion of God, look better to this thing, both for the quietness of the realm and the safeguard of your honour.'—Paget to Henry VIII.: State Papers, vol. ix. p. 298.
* ↑ Ibid. p. 305.
* ↑ Paget to Henry VIII.: State Papers, vol. ix. p. 303.
* ↑ Paget to Henry VIII.: State Papers, vol. ix. p. 306.
* ↑ This article applied only to England, the Calais Pale, and the Low Countries. Spain and Ireland being more remote, the obligations of assistance were left undefined.
* ↑ 'Sed mutuis et communicatis consiliis de pace et Treugis sive Induciis, nec nisi mutuo et communi consensu in aliquâ parte conditiones pacis Treugs sive Induciarum convenire possint. Proviso semper quod imminente necessitate obsidionis aut gravioris periculi liceat alterutri dictorum principum cum hoste communi de Treugis et Induciis temporalibus seorsim et separatim altero principe non consulto pacisci et convenire, ita tamen ut ultra duos menses hujusmodi Induciæ non contineant aut durent.'
* ↑ Cutting off Charles from the Pope on one side, and Henry from the German princes on the other.
* ↑ The words must be carefully recollected: 'Nec aliter in ulla fœdera pacta conventiones Treugas Inducias cum eodem Gallorum Rege conveniet concordabit aut paciscetur eorum alter quam de communi et mutuo consensu eorundem, et donec ne quousque utrique eorum de iis quæ speciatim exprimuntur fuerit ab eodem Gallorum Rege satisfactum.'
* ↑ Rymer, vol. vi. part 3, p. 86.
* ↑ 'Novas et exitiales discordias oriri, et quod omnium maxime abominandum occulta et impia consilia machinari vidit, quæ et concilium quemadmodum hactenus retardare, et totam Christianam rempublicam non sine gravissimâ omnium culpâ subvertere possint.'—Intimatio Concilii: State Papers, vol. ix. p. 225.
* ↑ Ibid. p. 367.
* ↑ State Papers, vol. ix. p. 361. The Catholic clergy were sensible of their danger even in a remote parish of an English county. 'Master Lovell, Priest of Sturmiston parish in Dorsetshire, came by chance into an alehouse, where he sat in communication with two honest men of the wars between the Emperor and the King of France, and the Pope taking the King of France's part. Whereat he said he should have God's blessing and his that took the King of France's part and the Pope's, and wished himself to be under the Pope's feet to be sure of his Holy Father's blessing, and said if he had his blessing he cared not whose curse he had. For he said that he was sure that, if our Holy Father the Pope and the King of France, after their deaths, came not to heaven, that God is not in heaven; and that if our King's Grace and the Emperor, after their departing, went not to hell, the devil is not in hell.'—Miscellaneous Depositions: Rolls House MS. A 2, 30, fol. 29.
* ↑ Paget to Henry VIII.: State Papers, vol. ix. p. 322.
* ↑ Mont to Henry VIII.: State Papers, vol. ix. pp. 331, 332.
* ↑ 'Nec spes est res Germanicas gravi discidio et partium studio scissas et convulsas componi posse nisi per ipsum Cæsarem Cæsaris æquitas et clementia omnium animos in bonam spem adducit et erigit. Nobiliores per Germaniam canonici non benefactis et piis studiis animos populi demereri student sed obstinatione et pervicaci superstitionum et abusuum propugnatione res laceras dissipare et magis exasperare student.'—Same to same: ibid. p. 321.
* ↑ State Papers, vol. ix. p. 434.
* ↑ Ibid. p. 385.
* ↑ 'These things, so repugnant to the obligation of treaties, with the desire and affection of our sovereign lord as a faithful and Christian prince towards the commonwealth of the faith, now enfeebled and reduced by the invasions of the Turks, through the mean and instigation of the King your master, have induced him to unite and make common cause with his antient ally the Emperor to enforce the just demands of both princes.'—State Papers, vol. ix. p. 389.
* ↑ 'Quant a la guerre des Escossois le fera cesser.'—Dorthe to the Privy Council: State Papers, vol. ix. p. 392.
* ↑ 'Et quant a la ville d'Ardre, pour che que le roy mon maistre ne pense que le Roy d'Angleterre, son bon frere luy en vouloit aulcune chose demander, attendu la grande et parfaicte amytie qu'ils ont tousjours eu ensemble, et aussy que c'est son vray heritage; il me semble sy plaist audict Signeur Roy d'Angleterre, que celle soit remis sus la veuee et communication dentre leurs deulx, qu'ils en porront mieulx accorder par ensemble que par mila autres.'—Ibid.
* ↑ State Papers, vol. i. p. 747.
* ↑ Ibid. p. 752.
* ↑ 'Thanks be to God, your army here hath ever since their setting forward ordered themselves with such obedience, modesty, and temperance, without any fray or quarrel either within themselves or to any stranger, that it is not only to our great comfort to see the same, but also to the great marvel of strangers, being rather like the civility of a city or town than an army of men of war.'—Wallop to Henry VIII.: State Papers, vol. ix. p. 462.
* ↑ The story is told less circumstantially in Hooker's Life of Sir Peter Carew.—Archæologia, vol. xxviii.
* ↑ Sir John Wallop to the Privy Council: State Papers, vol. ix. p. 457.
* ↑ State Papers, vol. ix. p. 488.
* ↑ Ibid. p. 489.
* ↑ 'This thing,' Harvel wrote from Venice to the King, 'turneth the Bishop to incredible hate and infamy that such favour should be shewn him by Turks, as though he were their confederate.'—Ibid. p. 446. Even the Court of Brussels affected to be scandalized. Dr Wotton, the resident there, told them, 'It stood well with all reason that the Turk and Bishop of Rome, heing both of one mind and purpose, and both going about one thing, that is, to destroy the Christian faith, should live like brethren and help each other.'—Ibid. p. 451.
* ↑ Barbarossa seems to have treated the French much as they deserved. 'The Turks that be at Toulon,' says a State paper, 'spoileth all the churches thereabouts, beateth down the walls, and maketh them again, after their sort, temples and oratories after the usage of their laws; and therein doth their sacrifices.'—Layton to Henry VIII.: State Papers, vol. ix. p. 584.
* ↑ Shells were used freely in this campaign. See Vol. II. p. 193, note.
* ↑ 'I heard a merry tale credibly reported, that Martin von Rosheim, remembering that the Hollanders and people about Amersfort have been of late years much inclined to the profession of the Gospel, and having no priests about him meet for that purpose, causeth some of his Lanzknechts, that can best tell their tales, to preach at Amersfort the liberty of the Gospel, trusting thereby to allure the Hollanders rather to follow him. It must needs be a good sight to see a Lanzknecht, his cap full of feathers, his doublet and hosen cut and jagged, his sword by his side, an arquebuss on his neck, to preach and set forth the Word solemnly, as though it were not Christ's Gospel, but Mahomet's Alcoran.'—Wotton to Henry VIII.: State Papers, vol. ix. p. 465.
* ↑ 'Ego uiversam Germaniam sollicitam et conturbatam animadverto. Vident enim et non sine suâ jacturâ sentiunt rapacissimam et crudelissimam gentem in Germaniam inductam quod jam multis sæniis nemo ausus fuit.'—Mont to Henry VIII.: ibid. p. 470.
* ↑ Ibid. p. 483.
* ↑ Ibid. pp. 404, 420.
* ↑ State Papers, vol. ix. p. 489. It is a singular fact that the people of Germany very generally believed that the Emperor had been lost on his way back from Africa. Sleidan says, that even the Duke of Cleves shared the prevailing error.
* ↑ State Papers, vol. ix. p. 498.
* ↑ State Papers, vol. ix. pp. 501–6.
* ↑ 'The matter seemeth at a point,' said Wotton, in a second letter, 'the which to me seemeth one of the strangest things that chanced these many years. I would never have believed that for one town cowardly lost by assault, such a great and strong country should have been wholly lost without in manner stroke striking. The Emperor may write to his friends as Cæsar wrote to his friends, veni, vidi, vici. Surely it appeareth that God hath blinded and intendeth to punish the French King that hath none otherwise assisted the Duke of Cleves; for he might by him have wrought more displeasure to the Emperor by a small power, than by himself he shall be able to do with four times as much.'—Wotton to Henry VIII.: ibid. pp. 505–6.
* ↑ Mont to Henry VIII.: State Papers, vol. ix. p. 518.
* ↑ 'The Bishop of Rome had for certain granted four thousand men against your Majesty; but by persuasion of the Imperial orator he is removed from that deliberation, not without great difficulty, labouring the said orator five hours with the Bishop upon the matter.'—Harvel to Henry VIII.: ibid. p. 520.
* ↑ 'Granville saith that the Bishop of Rome dare not stir nor attempt anything, and specially for because of the word that the Emperor said unto the Cardinal Farnese, that if the Bishop of Rome did anything against your Highness, he would take it as done against his own person.'—Wotton to Henry VIII.: ibid. p. 639.
* ↑ Wallop to Henry VIII.: State Papers, vol. ix. p. 522.
* ↑ He wrote himself to Henry to express his admiration of these troops. On one occasion they rode forward to clear the country in advance, 'and when he saw them hurl up the hill so lightly,' he cried out with delight. Their uniforms were white embroidered with the red cross of St George, and their ensigns were on the same pattern. In the churchwardens' account books, at Dartington in Devonshire, I find, in a list of vestments preserved at the church, in the first year of Edward VI., 'The white banner with the red cross which was made for the war.' Dartington had belonged to the Marquis of Exeter. It was forfeited ou his attainder, and was still in the hands of the Crown; so that among the light horse which excited Charles's applause we probably identify a party of Crown vassals from this parish.
* ↑ State Papers, vol. ix. p. 547.
* ↑ Wallop even wrote that, 'If it was his Majesty's pleasure to keep any arquebusses through the winter, they should be much better to serve him than any other nation, their desire was so much towards his Highness.'—State Papers, vol. ix. p. 545.
* ↑ Henry, in a message to Charles upon the subject, did not seem to hold the Scotch noblemen in very high esteem; he described James as having left his young child behind him, 'unprovided among the hands of a sort of wolves.'—Ibid. p. 534.
* ↑ 'Selon que la raison de la guerre moyen des victuailles et ce que fera l'ennemi et aultres empeschements le comporteront.'—Treaty between Charles V. and Henry VIII.: State Papers, vol. ix. p. 572. The reader must undertake to burden his memory with these words.