Francis I was as good as his word. Once the dauphin, his two brothers, and the assembled nobility had welcomed Richmond, he was granted the status of one of the king’s privy chamber. When the French court returned to Paris for the winter, Richmond was placed in the dauphin’s own lodgings. Every day he took dinner and supper with the French princes. Although Tate was not entirely satisfied, grumbling secretly that ‘I find great fault in [the] setting forward of my lord’s train which as yet is out of f[rame]’ he was optimistic that this would soon be amended. That small protocol aside, it does seem that Richmond was being accorded every outward mark of respect by the French.
Richmond spent the rest of the winter in Paris with Francis I’s three sons. The young princes made their guests welcome, the splendid tournament hosted by the dauphin in January 1533 being exactly the sort of thing Richmond would enjoy.17 Francis, the dauphin, was just over a year older than Richmond, having been born in February 1518. His brother Henri, duc d’Orléans was born in March 1519 and their younger sibling Charles, duc d’Angoulême on 22 January 1522. Richmond probably had most in common with the duc d’Orléans, the future Henri II, who was almost exactly the same age as him.
It is easy to imagine these two young royals getting on well. Henri was a lively child, the one most likely to take Richmond out riding or to play tennis. In the winter months he liked to go sliding on the ice on the pond at Fontainebleau or if the weather turned to snow he would make snow forts to hold snowball fights. The dauphin, described as colder and more reserved, preferred to keep himself to himself. He habitually dressed in black and was perhaps not always the best of company. Charles was not only considerably younger than Richmond, but also widely reputed as having a rather quick temper.
While he was in France, Richmond’s circle of associates was not confined to a choice between the company of the three French princes or his English entourage. Not unlike the model envisaged for him at Sheriff Hutton, children from several eminent French families lodged with the dauphin and his brothers. The houses of Lorraine, Bourbon, Cleves and Guise were among those who had sent their sons to the court to share the royal princes’ sports and studies.
Surrounded by sons of the highest nobility in France, Richmond seems to have made a good impression and been well liked. Several years after his death when Henri and his brother Charles were at a banquet with the English ambassador, Sir John Wallop, Henri suddenly ‘began to speak of my lord of Richmond, lamenting his death greatly, and so did mons d’Orleance likewise’.18 The ambassador was quick to point out that they had brought up the subject of the duke without any prompting from him, and the brothers’ spontaneity, as much as their warm words, seems to indicate fond childhood memories of the duke. However, unlike at Sheriff Hutton, Richmond was far from being the centre of attention. When the French court began its summer progress he was quickly swallowed up in its train.
In general, the French displayed very little interest in Richmond’s presence at court. When Montmorency, the dauphin’s governor, wrote to his cousin, the arrival of the duke was mentioned only in passing and it was clear which piece of news was more important to him:
The King of England has sent here his bastard son, and the son of the lord of Norfolk, who are being nurtured with the King’s children. I assure you that the dauphin is now nearly as tall as I am.19
Direct or indirect references to Richmond’s activities in any contemporary French sources are extremely rare. A passing mention in a letter to Arthur, Viscount Lisle does not exactly count, as it might be expected that he would be interested in news of his king’s only son.
While the French chroniclers record in endless detail the pageantry, speeches, spectacles and gifts which accompanied the progress of the court, describing the separate entries of the king, the queen, the dauphin and other persons of note, not one of them saw fit to mention Richmond’s presence. A contemporary account of the court’s entry into the town of Béziers gives an exhaustive list of those who followed in the French king’s train. Even so, Richmond is lost among the great number of nobles that the author frankly admitted that he had left out. Whatever importance Richmond was accorded by the English people, to the French he was simply the King of England’s bastard son and of small account in their affairs. His exact status, hovering somewhere between private magnate and royal offspring, was in a delicate balance. Yet, whatever importance Henry VIII set by Richmond’s embassy, it seems it was not shared by the French people.
On 23 April 1533, Francis I celebrated the feast of St George’s Day ‘with much ceremony’ at Fontainebleau. Since only a handful of his court were members of the Order of the Garter, this solemn observance of its major festival was no doubt staged in honour of Richmond’s presence. Shortly afterwards the whole court departed on the first leg of their journey towards Marseilles. Their progress was designed to culminate in the celebration of the de Medici marriage and that meeting with the pope. However, this was also the first opportunity that the French king had had to visit much of his realm in person. As the train wound its way across France it was greeted with pageants, processions and presents from the inhabitants of the various towns en route.
Although Richmond never succeeded in attracting the attention of the French chroniclers he seems to have fared rather better with their king. When the lumbering train that was the French court and all its necessaries and attendants split up, the French princes went with their stepmother, the queen, towards the plains of Languedoc. Richmond and Surrey stayed with Francis I, travelling through Lyons and Toulouse until they came to Montpellier. He had now been in France for ten months and whatever the benefits to his education, the long-awaited meeting with the pope had yet to take place. However, in Richmond’s absence, the situation in England had changed.
Henry and Anne’s courtship was anything but simple. Everything about 1532 suggests that they were on the brink of matrimony. Anne dressed and acted as if she were queen. The king stepped up his attack on the pope’s authority to be head of the Church in England. What had probably begun as a none-too-subtle blackmail attempt to get his own way became by March 1532 ‘A supplication against the Ordinaries’ which set out Henry’s claim that he was the right and proper head of the Church within his own dominions. The death of the incumbent Archbishop of Canterbury, William Warham, in August 1532 removed a major opponent of their marriage. Rumours abounded that the couple would marry before they embarked for the French summit. Then it was widely believed, even by Charles V, that they would marry while they were at Calais. Henry was certainly reassured to have Francis’ backing in case of retaliation by Charles V or the pope. Ever the optimist, he was also newly hopeful that the pope could be persuaded or pressured into making what he considered to be the only right and proper decision. Yet still Henry and Anne did not marry.
If Anne’s decision to consummate their relationship was intended to ‘bounce’ Henry into a decision, it worked. The discovery that Anne was pregnant in January 1533 gave matters an urgency that had previously been lacking. On 23 January, alleging a licence ‘which if it were seen, should discharge us all’ (and perhaps he actually meant his unborn heir), Henry married her. For several weeks this momentous step remained a secret, even though Anne could not resist making fairly blatant references to her pregnancy. The strange dance between Henry and Clement VII continued, when the king somewhat incongruously applied to the pope for a licence to appoint Thomas Cranmer (a known supporter of Anne) as Archbishop of Canterbury and the pope, equally curiously, approved the request. On 5 April the English clergy agreed that Henry’s marriage to Katherine of Aragon was not lawful. The woman who had reigned as Queen of England for the last twenty-three years was bluntly informed she was now merely Prince Arthur’s widow, the dowager Princess of Wales.
Anne’s star, on the other hand, was firmly in the ascendant. On 12 April she appeared dressed in gold and silver finery and ‘loaded with jewels’, that until recently had been Katherine’s, and went to mass as Queen of England. O
nce again she was attended by her young cousin, Mary Howard, the future Duchess of Richmond, who carried her train. In June, Henry put aside any concerns about her delicate condition and spared no expense on her coronation. Given his track record, the decision to subject her to such an ordeal was a sure sign of his determination that she alone should be revered as England’s anointed queen.
Henry was not quite as sure of himself as this might indicate. In July 1532 the Act in Conditional Restraint of Annates stopped just short of abolishing papal power in England. Even at this eleventh hour, Henry was not yet ready to forgo the possibility that Clement VII would be persuaded to declare in his favour.
As the crucial meeting with the pope drew near, Thomas Howard, Duke of Norfolk was sent to France ostensibly to press Henry’s case. As an experienced diplomat and Anne Boleyn’s uncle he was the ideal choice. Anne’s brother, George, Lord Rochford, accompanied him. When Norfolk’s party arrived at Riom on 10 July, Richmond and Surrey rode a mile and a half out of the town to greet them. This display of filial affection, also allowed them to discuss recent developments in relative privacy. As late as 13 July, Robert Aldridge wrote from France that he was confident that they would yet ‘accomplish our most desired purpose’. Back in England, there was mounting cause for concern.
The pope had recently indicated that the long awaited marriage between the duc d’Orléans and Catherine de Medici would now be delayed until September, which raised the dreadful possibility that the longed-for prince would arrive before the decision about his legitimacy could be secured. Now Norfolk’s instructions encouraged him to mutter darkly about those who ‘play and dally with kings and princes’ and issue dire warnings about an alliance between Clement VII and Charles V, in the hope of persuading Francis I to abandon the meeting. The ploy was not entirely effective. The French king privately complained he was extremely bored by the duke’s pestering. This might explain why Norfolk remained in Lyons, when Richmond and Surrey accompanied the French king on to du Puy. As he awaited the return of the royal party, Norfolk received the news he least wanted to hear.
The pope’s judgment on 11 July 1533 declared that Henry’s separation from Katherine was unlawful. He was given until September to take her back or face excommunication from the Catholic Church. In addition, there was the dreadful sentence that any child born to Henry and Anne would be illegitimate. Norfolk immediately sent Anne’s brother, Lord Rochford, back to England for instructions. Norfolk was told to make one last effort to persuade Francis not to meet with Clement. When that failed Henry recalled not just Norfolk, but Richmond and Surrey as well.
Given the King of England’s efforts to get Richmond invited to the French court and Francis I’s generous hospitality over the last eight months, this abrupt departure must have been awkward on both sides. Fortunately, Richmond had just celebrated his fourteenth birthday, which provided the ready excuse that he was now old enough to celebrate his marriage to Norfolk’s daughter. This ‘pretence’ did not fool the Venetian ambassador, or anyone else. The pope’s decision had ensured that Richmond’s presence at the feast would be an embarrassment rather than an asset. However, the excuse contained enough truth to be an effective face-saving device. On 25 August at Montpellier, the trio formally took their leave of the French king and Francis sent them back to England with assurances of his continued devotion to Henry’s cause ringing in their ears.
Norfolk proceeded with impressive haste to England, having made arrangements in advance for horses to carry him to Calais where ‘I will not tarry . . . one half hour if the wind and tide may serve’. He was already in London by 30 August, although according to the town’s chronicle, Richmond and Surrey did not even reach Calais until 25 September.
While at Calais they had the opportunity to enjoy the hospitality of Arthur, Viscount Lisle, who had been Richmond’s vice admiral, until his appointment as Lord Deputy of Calais in March 1532. Lisle and Richmond also shared the dubious honour of being the only living illegitimate royal offspring. If Richmond harboured any concerns about being overshadowed by a legitimate prince, Lisle was perhaps not the best person to reassure him. Completely eclipsed by his legitimate brothers and cousins, he had received no significant honours from his father, Edward IV.
Richmond could take some comfort from the knowledge that his position was different. He already enjoyed a significant degree of rank and privilege. None of his lands or titles was in any immediate danger of being hijacked for a newborn Prince of Wales, who was traditionally given the title Duke of Cornwall. How the new arrival would affect his personal relationship with Henry was rather more difficult to judge. A father can love more than one child and Richmond was exactly the sort of intelligent, able and athletic son to make any sixteenth-century king proud. Even so, as he made his way back to England, Richmond must have been one of the very few of Henry’s subjects who was not praying for a prince.
If so, his prayers were answered, at least for the moment. News of the birth on 7 September 1533 of a princess did not rule out the prospect of a prince. Anne had conceived easily and the baby was healthy. Yet the arrival of a daughter was also a reminder that there were no guarantees. Anne’s pregnancy had not been entirely trouble- free in the latter stages and she was not getting any younger. Legally, Elizabeth’s arrival had no impact on Richmond’s position. He remained the only male candidate for a throne which his illegitimacy ensured he was not eligible to inherit.
In all these years Henry had never given any indication as to which of his relatives would be his preferred heir if the direct line of succession were to fail, and he did not do so now. This either indicates his supreme conviction that God would grant him a legitimate son or the quiet confidence of a man who knows that if all else should fail he has an ace up his sleeve. Although public hopes were for a legitimate prince, as Richmond came to pay his respects to his infant sister, private thoughts may well have turned to the ready-made alternative.
It had taken Henry VIII more than five years to put aside Katherine of Aragon and marry Anne Boleyn. It was a process that had risked the security of the realm at least as much as it promised to ensure it. Many men could have been forgiven for thinking that they had not endured such turmoil for the sake of a princess. It was still early days, but if Anne could not fulfil her part of the bargain, some other solution would ultimately be needed. In the last few years Henry had moved heaven and earth to get his own way. The ‘re-discovery’ of the Royal Supremacy had taken the power of the king, parliament and statute law to a whole new level. In 1534 parliament would confirm Henry VIII as Head of the Church in England. In the circumstances, the legitimisation of the king’s bastard son can no longer have seemed such a daunting prospect.
Richmond’s claim was further strengthened by the repercussions of Elizabeth’s birth for his half-sister, Mary. If Henry and Anne had had a prince, his claim would automatically have taken precedence as the male heir. Mary had seen her mother put aside and her father remarried, but so far her position as princess had been unaffected. Cromwell had considered that it might be better to keep her in ‘the estate that she is now, and to avoid war, than to diminish anything’. Henry chose to act. As soon as possible, Elizabeth’s position as the heir apparent would be secured by statute. For now Mary was verbally informed that she was no longer to use the title of princess. Henceforth, she would be known as the Lady Mary as befitted the king’s natural daughter.
After eighteen years as the king’s only legitimate child, Mary did not take the news well. She declared ‘her conscience would in no wise suffer her to take any other than herself for Princess’. She assumed, or at least pretended to believe, that her father did not know of the order. She was wrong and her stubbornness and disobedience (perhaps rather too reminiscent of her mother’s conduct) provoked Henry into ever more drastic action. Mary’s household was disbanded. Her governess, Margaret Pole, Countess of Salisbury, was dismissed from her service and she was sent with a small band of attendants to live in the househo
ld being established for the Princess Elizabeth at Hatfield. This public reduction of Mary’s status was designed to remind her, and all who had business with her, that the only true princess in England was Elizabeth. Everyone, from the servants in the household, to the ambassadors who came to pay their respects, to the common folk who stood by the road as their household passed by, were witness to her new position as merely the king’s natural daughter.
Mary made her own opinion of Elizabeth’s true status clear, when she conceded she would acknowledge her as her sister, just as she had always called the Duke of Richmond brother. However, it was not her opinion that mattered. In the eyes of their father both Elizabeth and Richmond now outranked her. Not only did Richmond’s patent give him official precedence over all but the king’s legitimate issue, which no longer included ‘the Lady Mary’, but the new disparity in their households and retinue made that distinction startlingly and publicly apparent. As Mary’s stubborn refusal to acknowledge her ‘true’ status increasingly served to keep her from court and her father’s good graces, Richmond was increasingly prominent.
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