by David Loades
4
MARY AS QUEEN OF FRANCE
The afternoon following their strenuous night, on 7 November, the royal couple retired to the Hotel des Tournelles, where they rested until the great tournament in the Queen’s honour, which began on the 13th. It would be difficult to say which of them was in more need of the respite. The tournament was Francis’s idea, and had originally been intended as a friendly encounter between English and French nobles to celebrate the royal wedding at Abbeville. However, it was decided that so exciting a spectacle deserved a grander setting, and so it was deferred, taking place eventually after Mary’s coronation and entry into Paris in the splendour of the capital city. 1 It also lost some of its original purpose, becoming instead a great renaissance spectacle, and a trial of strength between the nations. In assuming the aspect a great sporting encounter, like a modern football or rugby match, it developed a slightly sinister side, because it became Francis’s intention to use the encounters as a means of demonstrating his own skill, and hopefully lowering the colours of the English jousters, at that time reputed the finest in Europe. Local interest was intense, and patriotic pride became engaged, so that it assumed an overriding importance in the long calendar of celebrations. Francis was responsible for the French team, and took it upon himself and the other nine ‘challengers’ to meet all the English ‘answerers’, both on foot and horseback. 2
The English, for their part, were equally concerned for their team’s success, realising perfectly well what Francis was about. Their representatives were chosen by Henry, who must have regretted that Louis’ incapacity meant that he was unable to take part himself, because in the circumstances for him to have appeared would have been an abuse of hospitality. The team was led by the Duke of Suffolk and the Marquis of Dorset, and consisted of Sir Edward Howard, Sir Edward Neville. Sir Giles Capell, Sir Thomas Cheyney, Sir William Sidney and Sir Henry Guildford. All of them were expert lancers, and Suffolk had the reputation of being the finest in Europe (after King Henry, of course). 3 The list had been set up in the Parc des Tournelles, and large stands erected for the spectators, who were expected to be numerous and partisan. The whole court was there. Louis, troubled with recurrent gout, reclined on a couch, with Mary and Claude supporting him. Unfortunately it rained remorselessly, and ten days were needed to get through five full days of fighting. The procedure was complicated, because each participant was required to run numerous courses over three days; these were the jousts proper and consisted of individual combat on horseback with spears. However, these courses were followed by fighting on foot with swords, and by a general melee, in which many knights, organised in groups, engaged simultaneously. Altogether over 300 men took part, and there appear to have been a few fatalities which ‘were not spoken of’. 4 In the midst of this organised chaos, public interest was focussed on the principals, Francis and his brother-in-law the Duke of Alençon on the French side, and Suffolk and Dorset on the English.
On the first day Alençon distinguished himself by running ten courses, and shattering a spear in each, but it was Suffolk who carried off the day’s honours, running no fewer than fifteen courses, thirteen of them as challenger, which was the more demanding role. Remarkably, there appears to have been only one death, although we are told that several horses were slain, presumably by misdirected lances. On the second day also, Suffolk received the most commendation, actually unhorsing his opponent (a very difficult feat to accomplish) in three successive rounds. These bouts were fairly clinical, but the melee which followed was rough. Dorset wrote later that the fighting was as furious as he had ever experienced. He and Suffolk, he explained, had
put our aids thereto because there was no nobleman to be put unto us, but poor men of arms and Scots, many of [whom] were hurt on both sides, but no great hurt, and of our Englishmen none overthrown nor greatly hurt …’ 5
The climax was reached on the 21st, when the courses on foot began, fighting at the barriers. Because he had injured his hand, Francis felt unable to take part, but so arranged matters that Suffolk and Dorset, whom he described as his ‘aides’ for the whole tournament, were set to fight alone against all comers. By elevating them to this place of honour, he seems to have hoped to bring about the Englishmen’s defeat, and so to reduce the prestige which they had gained from the jousting of the first two days. If so, he miscalculated, because Suffolk was victorious in all his encounters, including one with an enormous German who had been infiltrated into the ranks of the French challengers specifically to humiliate him. The German was immensely strong, and came at him fiercely, so that the Duke was almost beaten down. However, he was also relatively unskilled, and did not know how to take advantage of his opportunity. Suffolk rallied, and defeated his opponent, pummelling him about the head until the blood gushed out of his nose. 6 The unfortunate fellow was immediately removed before his identity could be discovered. Far from being diminished by this encounter, the Englishman’s reputation was enhanced, and Francis became jealous. Dorset withdrew after losing his spear, but his place was taken by his nineteen-year-old brother, Lord Edward Grey, who also fought with distinction, overthrowing another giant – only this time a legitimate Frenchman! Only in their accoutrements did the French clearly excel. Francis, the Duke of Bourbon and the Count of St Pol all appearing in stunning armour, changing their tabards each day in a rich variety of colours – purple velvet and cloth of silver. By comparison the English were soberly clad, each man displaying a cross of St George on some part of his apparel. 7 There were clowns and trick riders to enliven the scene between bouts, and the crowd obviously enjoyed the spectacle, in spite of their disappointment at the English success. Suffolk and Dorset both wrote to Wolsey after the event, being suitably modest about their triumph; news of that, Suffolk alleged, would best come from others.
Meanwhile, Brandon’s mission had been more than a response to Francis’s challenge in the lists, because he had also been entrusted with a secret mission to Louis XII. This was secret because there were divisions in the English Council over the desirability of a French alliance, and Henry had so far acted upon his own initiative. The ‘bedchamber crisis’ over the sacking of Jane Guildford had brought this to the surface, because Suffolk blamed his rival the Duke of Norfolk for this development, claiming that Norfolk, who was in France at the time, had sanctioned it in order to weaken the Anglo-French friendship, which he distrusted. 8 There was no reason to suppose that this was so, but Brandon hastened his journey to Paris, to conduct his business with the King before the Howards could stop him – as he alleged. His business was to suggest to Louis a meeting between the kings in the spring of 1515 to concert a strategy against Ferdinand of Aragon. Hence the need for secrecy, because if the Howards had gained information to that effect, they would undoubtedly have informed the Queen, and thus warned the King of Spain. In spite of his lack of diplomatic experience, and his preoccupation with the forthcoming tournament, this mission was reasonably successful. He secured Louis’ agreement to the meeting, and even began to put some possible strategies in place. He also succeeded in delaying the Duke of Albany’s passage to Scotland, which Henry would have regarded as an unfriendly act, given the delicate state of politics in that kingdom and his sister Margaret’s role in them. 9 Louis thought well of his efforts and expressed the opinion to Henry that ‘no prince christened hath such a servant for peace and war’. The Marquis of Dorset thought that his diplomatic mission had been at least as fruitful as his appearance in the lists, which was commendation indeed. 10 After the tournament and its accompanying celebrations, Suffolk returned home, to be warmly welcomed by Henry, and by Wolsey, who was the true architect of the Anglo-French alliance, and in view of the King’s reaction, his opponents in the Council kept a low profile for the time being.
The day following the tournament, 24 November, was marked by a banquet given for the Queen at the Hotel de Ville by the University of Paris. This signalled the end of the court season, and on the 27th the King and Queen removed to St
Germain-en-Laye for a three-week break before returning to Paris for Christmas. At the dinner there were many speeches, and the orators competed with one another in their flattery of the Queen of France, and of the coming together of the kingdoms, with France being given the benefit of the comparisons. No king of France, it was alleged, since the days of Clovis, had ever been killed in battle, exiled or murdered by his own people – a clear allusion to the fate of Edward II and Richard II of England, which was a country ‘naturally prone to revolution’. 11 Mary’s husband, it was implied, was more secure than her brother, a hint that the Queen was too diplomatic to take exception to. She may also have been too pleased with the adulation to notice, because such a crowd had gathered around the banqueting hall that the official party had been unable to enter by the front door. Instead they had been obliged to make a detour via the porter’s lodge and the back stairs. Once inside, she was received by the elite of the City and the University, and treated to a meal of the utmost magnificence. No action or gesture on her part was unobserved, and she earned special commendation for asking that a portion of the specially prepared dessert should be sent to the royal nursery at Vincennes for her four-year-old stepdaughter, Renee. 12 One observer, who was not inexperienced in such matters, declared that he had never seen so many distinguished guests so sumptuously attired at any comparable occasion. 13 The politics of the court were complicated at this juncture by the King’s attitude. That he admired and respected Mary is obvious, and she used that favour to help the Duke of Suffolk in his negotiations, because he lacked not only experience but also subtlety, which it was the Queen’s job to present to her husband as ‘plainness’, a virtue which he appreciated. So successful was she in this that Louis came to favour the Duke above his own cousin Francis, whose ambition he obviously distrusted. During these weeks Mary’s behaviour won plaudits all round, except for Francis’s family, who could not stand her. She also flattered his Council by discreetly seeking their advice as to how to deal with her husband. As Suffolk reported she wanted to know
how she might best order herself to content the king whereof she was most desirous, and in her should lack no goodwill, because she knew well that they were the men that the King loved an trusted … 14
Louis was pleased at the pains she was taking, and Henry and Wolsey were delighted to receive such positive reports. On the eve of her departure for St Germain, Dorset declared that she ‘continued her goodness and wisdom’, and consequently increased in favour both with the King and with his Council. She was showing an acute political sensitivity, and a maturity and discretion well beyond her years, because she was only nineteen at this time.
The King chose St Germain for the court’s retreat because it was near to Paris, and because (although he would not admit it) he was finding travel both painful and fatiguing. He seems to have intended enjoying some hunting, but was too sick to indulge in such a strenuous pastime. Part of the time he was confined to bed, and his wife sat by him, becoming daily more accustomed to the role of sick-nurse. 15 Nevertheless they managed to return to the Hotel des Tounelles in December, whereupon Louis took to his sickbed permanently, and began to prepare for the end, which he realised could not be long delayed. The great household continued to function with apparent normality, and Christmas was duly kept, but without any of the festivities normally associated with the season. Meanwhile Mary sat by her husband’s bedside and talked to Francis, or rather he talked to her. She felt that he showed insufficient concern for his father-in-law’s situation, and rather too much for hers, and although his behaviour was outwardly correct, she began to be disturbed. His conversation was sophisticated, and interspersed with personal observations that alarmed her, so that she began to feel that he could become a problem if (or rather when) Louis’ protection was removed. She confided her anxieties by letter to both Dorset and Suffolk, and may have been prompted to take some of the French Council into her confidence in case it should be necessary at some time in the future to restrain the Duke of Angoulême’s ardour. 16 It was well known in the court that Francis was of an amorous disposition, and considered himself irresistible to women. If he had been less conceited, her off-putting responses would have been sufficient to deter him. Whether he would have been prepared to cuckold his liege lord is another matter, but for the time being Mary’s best defence lay in absolute loyalty to her husband. She could not, however, afford to alienate her admirer, who for all his innuendos was gracious and witty, and when Louis died, he would be king. It would be an exaggeration to say that he could then dispose of her as he thought fit, but his position would obviously be much strengthened, while hers would become weaker. 17
Gossip circulated about the King’s sickbed, most of it unflattering to the Queen, who was given singularly little credit for her continence. Much of it probably emanated from the anti-English faction at court, which was led by Louise of Savoy, but it is hard to trace to its source. There was clearly another side to the popular perception of her beauty and graciousness, because as represented in these stories, she was flirtatious, light-headed and irresponsible, ‘giddy in six languages’ as one author put it. She is supposed to have regarded her marriage as a joke, and the Italians in particular circulated salacious stories about her, even before Louis’ final illness deprived him of all capacity to please her. One contemporary historian, Robert de la Marck, Seigneur de Fleuranges, put the derogatory case succinctly. ‘The king,’ he observed, ‘did not feel very strong, because he had desired to be a pleasing companion with his wife, but he deceived himself, as he was not the man for it …’ 18 He had abandoned the strict diet which his doctors had prescribed for him, and they warned him that if he continued he would die of his pleasure. It is from these stories that the image of a flirtatious and impetuous Mary derive. In fact during Louis’ last illness she behaved with admirable restraint and discretion, and Henry and Wolsey were well advised of the fact. If it had not been so, Henry, who was something of prude, would have made his displeasure known, and the Queen’s position would have become even more precarious. The records do not say very much about Louis’ last weeks, and the traditions are probably deceptive. They represent the King as abandoning all restraint, indulging in rich foods and late nights in an effort to charm his youthful bride. Louise of Savoy, who was prepared to believe anything to the discredit of the royal couple, recorded in her journal that ‘ces amoureuses noces’ had been fatal to him. 19 There may have been an element of truth in all this, because overindulgence and unaccustomed activity, both of which were features of his attempts to please her, would probably have hastened his death. However, to blame the Queen for this seems altogether irrational, and on the other side of the coin, his marriage had undoubtedly revived his wish to live. The Earl of Worcester, who had remained behind when his fellow ambassadors had returned home at the beginning of December, wrote to Wolsey that he ‘hath a marvellous mind to content and please the Queen’. Apart from banning Jane Guildford and Jane Poppincourt from his wife’s entourage he had been the very model of a solicitous husband. 20
Christmas was quiet at the French court in 1514, because the King was growing progressively weaker, and his death was clearly only a matter of time. On 28 December he rallied his fading energies to write to his ‘good brother’ the King of England. It was a letter full of expressions of contentment with his wife, who
has hitherto conducted herself, and does still every day, towards me in such a manner that I cannot but be delighted with her, and love and honour her more and more each day; and you may be assured that I do, and ever shall so treat her as to give both her and you perfect satisfaction … 21