The Tudor Brandons

by Sarah-Beth Watkins

  Charles relished the social side of life, the tournaments and jousting, the wooing and flirting, the camaraderie and friendship. In the early days of Henry’s reign, pleasure and freedom were all that mattered. Charles was Henry’s companion whenever he wanted him – a loyal spear and a compliant friend. This was to stand him in good stead to become the new king’s closest companion rather than a political creature and to take him one step closer to his future wife, the Princess Mary.

  Charles’ uncle Thomas died in January 1510 and was buried in London Blackfriars on 29 January. Charles became Marshal of the King’s Bench after his uncle and resided at times in the family home at Southwark. His uncle’s position of Master of the Horse passed to Thomas Knyvet, another of Henry’s band of brothers. Charles was especially close to Thomas and the two of them went into business together later in the year along with Edward Howard and Edward Guildford, obtaining the licence ‘to freight a ship called the Mary and John of London, late belonging to William Davy, deceased, or any other ship not exceeding 250 tons burthen, with wools, woollen cloth, leather, lead, tin and other merchandise, and take it beyond the Mountains through the Straits of Marrok, free of custom’.3 It isn’t known if their business venture was successful but Charles was delving into new areas, testing the waters and becoming a man of means.

  Charles’ had also become a father for the second time in June when his daughter, Mary, was born, but unfortunately his wife Anne died not long after. Their wedded life had been short-lived, their relationship fraught from the start. Charles was now back in the marriage market and looking for his next wife. Mary at this stage was fourteen and betrothed to Charles of Castile making her completely unobtainable, even if Charles had been of high enough status to woo her. He would look around for his next match making sure it would be to his benefit.

  Another baby gave cause for great celebration at the start of the year 1511. Katherine had safely delivered a baby boy, Henry, on the 1st January. The king was overjoyed and a two day joust was held on 12th and 13th February in honour of Katherine and their new son. The new mother was well enough to preside over the jousts, giving gifts to the combatants, and Henry showed off for all he was worth, riding out as Sir Loyal Heart and displaying his excellent horsemanship skills to an uproarious crowd where he ‘leapt and coursed the horse up and down in wonderful manner’.4

  Charles joined the joust on the second day, hidden within a prison tower. His jailer walked before the pageant car that rolled through the King’s Gate holding a key in his hand. Stopping in front of Katherine, the jailer unlocked the tower and Charles rode out dressed as a pilgrim, a letter attached to a staff in his hand that was presented to the queen. Katherine ‘sent such answer that the prisoner cast ffrom hym hastely his clothing berd & hat and shewid him sylf In brygth harneys, and fforthwyth smote his horse wyth the sporys and (went) a lusty pace unto the tyyltes ende’.5 Charles ran against the king during the day and as was his wont, allowed him to win and claim his prize from his own queen.

  Sadly though, royal joy was soon to turn to sorrow. The young prince died on 22 February 1511, possibly of meningitis, devastating his parents. Mary had become close to Katherine, spending many hours with her and her ladies. She comforted the new queen through her loss but mourning was never allowed for too long at Henry’s court.

  By May, another joust was underway at Greenwich where Henry rode into the woods to ‘find May’. Charles was by his side along with Edward Howard and Edward Neville to challenge all comers again. Charles would be by Henry’s side throughout many other pastimes that the king enjoyed from hunting, hawking, archery and tennis, to bowls, gambling, watching plays, listening to music and dancing when the weather drove them indoors. His friendship paid off for in November 1511, Charles was made Marshal of the King’s Household in survivorship with Sir John Carew, in March 1512, keeper of the royal manor and park at Wanstead and in April 1512, ranger of the New Forest. All roles that would boost his status at court and increase his financial position.

  At the June joust of 1512, Charles shone as a combatant and a chivalrous knight. In a fantastic display of drama and disguise

  …first came in ladies all in White and Red silke, set upon Coursers trapped in the same suite…after whom followed a fountain curiously made of Russett Sattin, with eight Gragilles spouting Water, within the Fountain sat a knight armed at all peces. After this fountain followed a lady aal in blacke silke dropped with fine silver, on a courser trapped with the same. After followed a knight in a horse litter…When the Fountain came to the tilt, the ladies rode rounde aboute, and so did the Fountain and the knight within the litter. And after theim wer brought two goodly Courses apparelled for the Iustes: and when their came to the Tiltes ende, the two knightes mounted on the two Coursers abidying all commers. The king was in the Fountaine and Sir Charles Brandon was in the litter. Then sodainly with great noyse of Trompettes entered Sir Thomas Knevet in a Castle of Cole blacke, and over the castel was wriiten, The dolorous Castle, and so he and the erle of Essex, the Lorde Haward and other ran their courses, with the King and Sir Charles Brandon, and ever the king brake moste speres.6

  While Henry had been enjoying the pleasures of being king, his mind was never far away from war with France. Vergil wrote that Henry was ‘not unmindful that it was his duty to seek fame by military skill’.7 But his first foray into France was an unmitigated disaster. In June, he sent 12,000 men to join Spanish forces in an attack on the French kingdom but they deserted to invade Navarre. Henry’s army sickened and returned to England with nothing achieved.

  Henry was furious, feeling that his army were now the laughing stock of Europe. In August, he sent Sir Edward Howard, recently made vice-admiral, to attack the French fleet near Berthaume Bay. Edward sailed ahead of twenty-five English warships in Henry’s prized new ship, the Mary Rose, closely followed by Sir Thomas Knyvet and Sir John Carew in the Regent and Charles Brandon and Sir Henry Guildford in the Sovereign. On 10 August, the Battle of St Mathieu commenced.

  In the fleet there were two great ships, one commanded by Sir Charles Brandon, and the other by Thomas Knyvet, a man of greater spirit than military experience. These men, who were particularly inspired to courage by their desire for glory, sailed ahead, rivals for fame and glory, steering straight for Britanny. But Charles, sailing faster, espied from mid-ocean a monstrous ship as large as a castle riding at anchor before Brest. Thinking that an opportunity for performing a notable feat was offered, he made no communication with his admiral, but bore down on her with great speed. The French saw the English ship coming on and cleared their decks, and received her with a broadside against her bow. Charles did the same, boldly coming on, and came alongside for a close fight. But he was compelled to retire when a mast was shattered, and this was his salvation. Seeing him turn away, Thomas greatly rejoiced, as if a great chance were given him and he was being summoned to victory. So he made his attack, accompanied by a single small ship, and sailed at the French ship with more courage than common sense. This was a dangerous maneuver, not to be attempted rashly since it was already certain that the enemy was not unprepared for a defense. He threw his grappling irons, and a savage battle was joined, fought with great contention. It was not just a sea battle, but almost a land-battle, since it was now possible to cross over from one ship to the other. A goodly number of fighting men were either killed immediately or wretchedly cast overboard, while the second English ship circled the French ship and so holed her with cannon fire that she was taking water in several places. Now the enemy had suffered no small amount of damage, and the English were not far removed from coming out on top, when in the middle of the fight, either because the despairing enemy did not wish to die unavenged, or because of some mischance, a great fire broke out on the French ship and spread to the English one. Then the fighters were surrounded by flames and quickly turned from fighting to putting out the fire. But since the ships were chained together, the fire could not be extinguished by any human power before it co
nsumed both ships, together with their crews. This was the most piteous sight in human memory, as the fire consumed men and the water swallowed them. But most plunged into the latter to avoid the former, and a number were rescued by their mates. So the fight was equally fatal and deadly to both sides, and nobody gained the victory. More than six hundred Englishmen perished, including Thomas the ship’s captain. The French losses were greater, and it is said that more than 1,000 men were lost. The reason for this great catastrophe was that because of the all-consuming flames the battle was almost ended before it began, and so neither side could come to the aid of their doomed men.8

  Henry’s close band of brothers had lost its first member, Sir Thomas Knyvet. As the king and his companions mourned, Sir Edward Howard, Thomas’s brother-in-law as well as his friend, swore to revenge his death. For Charles, Knyvet’s death was bittersweet. He had lost his jousting and hunting companion but Henry passed on Knyvet’s position of Master of the Horse to him. It was a move that brought him even closer to the king. He was now in charge of the royal stable and the king’s own horses. Charles had learned the role from his uncle Thomas as a boy fresh at court and he accepted his new responsibilities mindful of the men who had gone before him.

  Charles’ marital inclinations took another turn in December 1512 when he was granted the wardship of Elizabeth Grey, the only surviving child of the late John Grey, Viscount Lisle, who had also been Knyvet’s stepdaughter. By entering into a marriage contract between himself and this eight-year-old girl, he would be entitled to claim her lands, her father’s title and her fortune. He could not marry her until she came of age but in an echo of his previous relationship with Margaret Mortimer, this arrangement would add to his increasing wealth and status at court. Their engagement was announced in the following spring. He was made a knight of the garter in April and his noble title of Viscount Lisle was soon to follow.

  Knyvet’s death had been a blow to Charles, the king and their companions but another tragedy was soon to follow. On 25 April, Sir Edward Howard, by now Lord Admiral of Henry’s fleet at just twenty-four, who had never given up attacking the French to revenge Knyvet’s death, launched an assault on the French flagship. Boarding the vessel, his own galley came adrift, leaving Howard and his men to the mercy of the enemy’s sailors. Howard threw his admiral’s gold whistle overboard, his symbol of rank, and was either forced or jumped to his death, drowning in the salty water, weighed down by his heavy armour. He left behind him two sons, one commended into the care of the king and the other to Charles. The band of brothers that Henry had grown so close to was diminished with Knyvet and Howard’s deaths. It did nothing but fuel Henry’s desire for war with France. He would see his friend’s deaths avenged with the blood of French men.

  After a disastrous raid on Brittany in which Sir Thomas Howard and Charles played lead roles, a full scale invasion was planned for July. Charles was appointed High Marshal of Henry’s army, responsible for the vanguard of the king’s ward of around 3,000 men, a small percentage of the 30,000 men who arrived at Calais ready to fight. On arrival Henry was given the keys to Calais with great pomp and ceremony while Charles and Wolsey, Henry’s man and trusted advisor, hurriedly tried to unload the ships and make ready for the advance. But Henry was in no rush, this was his first foray into warfare and his ideal of chivalrous knights saw him parading up and down the streets of Calais in his finest armour, stretching out their stay for three weeks with copious banquets and rounds of jousting. He had waited long enough to show off his military skills and he was going to make sure all who saw him knew him as the great King of England.

  Henry and his men eventually met with the Holy Roman Emperor Maximilian and his Imperial troops, marching to Therouanne for what would become known as the Battle of the Spurs. On 16 August, the French troops were defeated at Guinegate when they fled on horseback, their spurs glinting in the sunlight. Henry wrote a letter to the governor of the Low Countries, Margaret of Savoy, Maximilian’s daughter, on 17 August 1513, to tell her what had happened.

  Yesterday morning, after he and the Emperor had crossed the Lys, which passes before Terouenne, towards Guinegate, news came that all the French horse at Blangy were moving, some toward Guinegate, the others to the place where Lord Talbot was stationed before Terouenne to cut off supplies. A skirmish took place and there were taken on his side 44 men and 22 wounded. The French, thinking that the English were still beyond the Lys, considered they would not be in time to prevent them revictualling the town. The English horse however passed by Guinegate and confronted the French, who were three times their number. Several encounters took place and men were wounded on both sides. After this, in the Emperor’s company, advanced straight against the French, causing the artillery to be fired at them, whereupon they immediately began to retire, and were pursued for 10 leagues without great loss to the English. Nine or ten standards were taken and many prisoners, among whom are the Duke of Longueville, Marquis of Rothelin, Count de Dunois, Messire René de Clermont, Viceadmiral of France, and others whose names are enclosed. It is said that Lord Fiennes is killed, for his horse is in the English camp. The standard bearer of the “grand escuyer de France,” Count Galeace de St. Severin, is also taken. De La Palice is said to be either wounded or killed. The Emperor has been as kind to him as if he were his real father. At the camp at Gynegate before Terouenne, 17 Aug. 1513.9

  After their victory, Margaret of Savoy welcomed them at Lille. She had hoped that the Princess Mary would have joined her before the battle as Henry had planned to deliver her for a visit to the Low Countries to meet her husband-to-be Charles before he attacked the French – plans that changed for reasons only known to Henry.

  Instead Mary had stayed in England with her new tutor, John Palsgrave, preparing for the new life that stretched before her. Palsgrave was a priest who had graduated from Corpus Christi College in Cambridge and had studied theology in Paris before his ordination. He was paid £6 13s 4d a year for being Mary’s schoolmaster and his responsibility was to aid Mary in her upcoming role as Princess of Castile, to improve her French (although already excellent at this stage) and to broaden her literary horizons.

  Palsgrave was later to write the first French textbook for learners entitled L’Esclaircissement de la Langue Francoyse. Its gives us an insight into how he taught Mary and the types of texts she was reading and translating. The Roman de la Rose was popular – a medieval poem about courtly love – as was Ovid’s Heriodes, a book of verse letters from frustrated and angry Greek and Roman heroines to their absent husbands or lovers, and the Epistres de l’amant vert, written by a poet from Margaret of Savoy’s court, Jean Lemaire de Belges, who had penned his melancholic love poem for his patron. Romance was a key theme.

  Margaret of Savoy missed having Mary to visit but Charles Brandon made up for her disappointment. Being his usual big, brash self, and single (although betrothed) once again, he attempted to woo her, spurred on by Henry. Margaret, having to explain this flirtation later wrote that Henry had said of Charles that ‘he schuude be to me trewe and humble servant; and I to hyme promised to be to hyme syche mastresse alle my lyff as to hym who me semed desyred to do me most of servyce’.10 Margaret would later regret any promises she had made. But Charles hadn’t finished toying with her affections just yet.

  Henry and his men had taken the town of Therouanne; a small victory but one Henry was delighted with. He had beaten the French and proved himself to be a king of military might – in his mind at least. And the news from England was also great. Katherine had acted as England’s regent during his absence and commanded his army to quell a Scottish uprising. His sister’s husband, James IV, King of Scotland, had been defeated and killed at the Battle of Flodden. Not only had Henry cowed the French but the Earl of Surrey had cowed the Scots on his behalf too.

  But there was more to do. Riding back to his troops, Henry joined them for the siege of Tournai with Charles being responsible for the main artillery battery and taking possession of
one of Tournai’s main gates. The town fell to the English on 23 September. Henry gave Charles the keys to the town and left him in charge of occupying it, to deal with his prisoners and keep order in the coming days.

  How else would they celebrate their victory but with a joust? In October, Margaret of Savoy visited the victorious king not only to watch the celebrations but to confirm to Henry that she was anxious for Mary’s marriage to her nephew Charles, who had joined them, to go ahead. Henry and Charles Brandon challenged all comers at a rain-soaked joust and continued their merriment at a banquet afterwards where ‘a hundred dishes were served’.11 And here Charles’ relentless flirtation continued. Margaret of Savoy had been betrothed to Charles VIII of France who spurned her to marry her stepmother but she went on to marry her first husband, John, Prince of Asturias, who lived for only six months after their marriage and her second marriage was only to last three years. She swore afterwards that she would never marry again, causing her poet, Jean Lemaire de Belges, to refer to her as ‘Dame de deuil’ or Lady of Mourning. Margaret had no intention of marrying but neither did she want to upset Henry when the negotiations for her nephew and Mary’s marriage were so nearly completed. Charles insisted on courting her, egged on by Henry, who thought that a match between them would be marvellous, giving him a close ally in the Low Countries and more control in Europe.

  After the banquet, Charles used his charm on Margaret, so obviously setting his sights way above his station but caught up in the moment. She later wrote:

  I take none in this affair to witness but the King and him; and himself first: it is that one night at Tournay, being at the banquet, after the banquet he put himself upon his knees before me, and in speaking and him playing, he drew from my finger the ring, and put it upon his, and then shewed it me; and I took to laugh, and to him said that he was a thief, and that I thought not that the King had with him led thieves out of his country. This word ‘laro’n he could not understand; wherefore, I was constrained for to ask how one said in Flemish ‘laron’. And afterwards I said to him in Flemish ‘dieffe’, and I prayed him many times to give it me again, for that it was too much known. But he understood me not well, and kept it on to the next day that I spoke to the King, him requiring to make him to give it me, because it was too much known – I promising him one of my bracelets the which I wore, the which I gave him.12