Henry VII

by S B Chrimes

  Both 1496 and 1497 were outstanding years in Henry’s diplomacy. His conclusion of the important commercial treaty, known as the Magnus Intercursus, in February 14961 achieved an economic agreement regardless of what other powers thought of it. By July of that year he figured as an associate of the Holy League reformed to restrain Charles VIII’s Italian ambitions,2 but was able to do so without attracting any serious hostility from France; and was even able to make a commercial treaty with her in the following May,3 and he refrained from embarrassing Louis XII on his accession in April 1498.

  Ferdinand and Isabella’s desire to strengthen their relations with England induced them to conclude a fresh treaty for the Anglo-Spanish marriage on 1 October 1496, which, however, was not confirmed by Henry VII until 18 July 1497.4 After a great deal of argument matters reached the point when on 19 May 1499 Catherine was married by proxy to Prince Arthur.5

  In the meantime the career of Perkin Warbeck had to run its course before much headway could be made with improvement in Anglo-Scottish relations, however much Ferdinand, the pope, and indeed Henry VII might wish for it. Some progress had been made since 1487, but very slowly. Truces had been made and renewed, but it was not until 25 June 1495 that a commission was issued to negotiate a marriage between Princess Margaret and James IV.1 But by November Perkin Warbeck arrived in Scotland and was taken into the king of Scots’s favour.2 Naturally in these circumstances no headway could be made with such talks, and it was not until after James IV had abandoned Warbeck (July 1496) that any hope of progress could be entertained. At long last in July 1497 fresh instructions could be issued to Henry VII’s experienced negotiator Richard Fox, now bishop of Durham, to reopen the negotiations3 which resulted at first in an indenture of a truce for seven years, later extended for life, and finally in the Truce of Ayton ratified by James IV on 12 February 1498.4 But it was not until after the defeat, capture, and execution of Warbeck, and the Spanish envoy Pedro de Ayala’s mission to Scotland, that a full treaty of peace and a marriage alliance was concluded on 24 January 1502.5 On 8 August 1503 Margaret Tudor and James IV were married.6

  But before this date Anglo-Spanish relations had reached their climax. On 10 July 1499 a treaty of alliance between Ferdinand and Isabella and Henry VII had been concluded in London,7 and confirmed by the Spanish monarchs on 20 January 15008 (before which date both Warbeck and the earl of Warwick had been executed). The die was now cast, and Catherine and Arthur were married by proxy for the third time in November 1500.9 On 2 October 1501 Catherine arrived m England10 and was married in person to Arthur on 14 November. Jubilation and pageantry at these events was great and lavish, and the designers of public spectacle excelled themselves.1 Henry VII’s long-drawn-out negotiations and haggling over terms and conditions had justified themselves, and had brought to conclusion the remarkable and seemingly unlikely marriage alliance between the Tudors and the Spanish monarchs. Much indeed was to spring from this event, all of it quite unpredictable at the time. But the more immediate rejoicings were to be terminated abruptly five months later by the death of Prince Arthur at Ludlow on 2 April 1502.2 Ten months later, on 2 February 1503, Queen Elizabeth, then lodged in the Tower of London, was delivered of a baby daughter, who was christened Catherine and lived for a few days. But in the early morning of 11 February the queen herself died.3

  The cup of Henry’s domestic sorrows had been filled very nearly to the brim, but something might be saved from the wreck of his dynastic hopes. Within five weeks of the death of Prince Arthur, Ferdinand and Isabella instructed an ambassador to reclaim from Henry the hundred thousand scudi that had been paid as the first instalment of the marriage portion for the princess of Wales, to demand that he should deliver to her the lands that had been assigned as her dowry, amounting to one third of the revenues of Wales, Cornwall, and Chester, and to return the princess to Spain as soon as possible and in proper manner. But at the same time they also instructed the ambassador to conclude a marriage between the princess and Henry, the king’s son and heir, and to settle the amount and other terms of the marriage portion and dowry.4 Little time was lost in negotiating a treaty for the marriage. An English draft treaty dated 24 September 15025 led to a formal treaty on 23 June 1503,6 confirmed by Ferdinand and Isabella on 30 September.7 But the treaty itself declared that a full papal dispensation would be needed because Catherine by marrying Arthur had become related to Henry in the first degree of affinity and because their marriage had been solemnized by the rites of the Catholic Church and had afterwards been consummated.1 The marriage was to be solemnized as soon as Prince Henry completed his fourteenth year. If the dispensation were obtained, a marriage by proxy was to be contracted within two months of the ratification of the treaty by both the parties. Agreements about the marriage portion and dowry were made part of the treaty.2 But long delays were to be experienced in obtaining the needful dispensation. The death of Alexander VI – in August 1503 – would have caused delay in any event, but the new pope, Julius II, hesitated to grant it. The precise date when valid bulls of dispensation arrived is uncertain but it was not until some date after March 1505.3

  But before that time arrived, other events occurred which were destined to set in train circumstances that postponed the marriage until after the death of Henry VII himself. On 26 November 1504,1 Queen Isabella died, and the prospect for Anglo-Spanish relations changed at once. The heiress of Castile, Joanna, became queen, but the question soon was to be whether Ferdinand would be governor of that realm, as Isabella had willed, or would Joanna’s husband the Archduke Philip of the Netherlands seek to be recognized as more than titular king of Castile? The Castilian problem thus arose to bedevil Henry VII’s foreign policies for the rest of his reign, and to conjure up in his mind visions of possible aggrandizements that would not otherwise have arisen.

  Both Henry VII and Ferdinand were now in a position to enter into negotiations for new matrimonial alliances on their own accounts. Both watched each other’s moves with close attention; both were most anxious to keep on as outwardly friendly terms with each other as was compatible with the pursuit of their own interests; both were keen enough to steal a march on the other and secure a profitable match for themselves if they could. As things turned out, Ferdinand was able to do this, but Henry VII could not, and in the end, after much fruitless negotiation, he was obliged to content himself with arranging what he thought were the most promising matches for his son and his unmarried daughter. All these negotiations were, of course, conditioned by the underlying motive of trying to maintain the balance of power between England, Spain, France, and Burgundy.

  We can safely acquit Henry VII of having formed any intention to marry his daughter-in-law Catherine, as this improbable allegation has never been based upon any valid evidence.2 His first choice for serious consideration was apparently Ferdinand’s niece, the recently widowed Queen Joan of Naples. At any rate he sent three envoys to Valencia to interview her and her mother the Dowager Queen, Ferdinand’s sister, and to find out all they could about her potential as a bride for him. His instructions to them were astonishingly detailed and comprehensive, in the form of twenty-four questions, including very specific enquiries as to her physical as well as her financial assets. The envoys arrived at Valencia on 22 June 1505, and made a very full report as soon as practicable.1 They were unable to obtain the portrait of Joan that the king desired, but whilst their report on the lady’s physical charms was not unfavourable, her financial position and prospects were much more doubtful. The same envoys moved on to interview Ferdinand himself at Segovia on 17 July, again furnished with full instructions and twenty-two specific questions, including close enquiries as to the political conditions in Aragon and the probable impact of the expected arrival in Spain of Philip and Joanna of Castile.2 In this regard Henry VII was clearly trying to find out what the most profitable line would be for him to take in the Castilian question. The whole document is a remarkable manifestation of Henry’s care and foresight in getting relia
ble information before showing his hand in diplomacy. As regards the project of Henry’s marriage with Joan of Naples, Ferdinand showed himself all in favour of it. But this attitude was of doubtful sincerity, and nothing came of it. Henry VII himself appears to have abandoned the project after it was known that Ferdinand had made an alliance (Treaty of Blois) with France in October 1505 and married Louis XII’s niece Germaine de Foix on 18 March 1506. Information of this intention had reached Henry VII’s envoys in Aragon in July and been included in their report to him.3

  But before this date, other matrimonial plans for Henry VII were being mooted. Before March 1505, it would seem, Maximilian had offered his daughter Margaret, widow of Philibert II of Savoy, and the effective governor of the Netherlands.4 Henry VII in March 1505 instructed his envoy Anthony Savage, sent on a mission to De Ayala, the former Spanish ambassador in England, then in Flanders, to make some searching enquiries into the potentialities of this, to investigate the sincerity of Maximilian’s offer, to find out about Margaret’s likely financial assets, to enquire closely into the intentions of Philip and Joanna of Castile, and, not least, to discover Maximilian’s attitude towards Edmund de la Pole, earl of Suffolk.5

  In the meantime the attractions of a marriage alliance with Henry VII had not been overlooked by Louis XII of France, who before July 1505 gave to Sir Charles Somerset, Henry VII’s envoy, full instructions about his views on a number of questions, including the proposal that Henry VII might marry his niece, Margaret of Angoulême, daughter of Charles, count of Angoulême, on certain conditions; and even offered a dowry comparable to that which Henry informed him Ferdinand had offered for Joan of Naples. He also promised to help Henry VII to secure Edmund de la Pole, expressed his desire to meet Henry personally when circumstances permitted, and allayed any fears that Henry might have about the continuance of the pension payable under the terms of the Treaty of Étaples.1

  These plans were known in diplomatic circles by the autumn, together with other real or imaginary projects,2 but with whatever degree of sincerity Henry VII entertained the project, little more was to be heard of it. He was, it seems, much more serious about the prospect of marrying Margaret of Savoy, which, if it should materialize, would go far to change the balance of power in his favour and in that of Maximilian’s family connections. The possibility of such a marriage dragged on until 1508,3 until Margaret herself finally declined the suit. If Henry’s heart went where his money went, he set great store on his relations with Maximilian and Philip of Castile, for he ‘lent’ both of them large sums of money to further their political aims,4 and events in early 1506 brought him into still closer relations with Philip and Joanna.

  On 7 January King Philip, as he was now called, and his wife Joanna, now queen of Castile, set out from Zeeland to voyage to Spain, but violent storms on 16 January in the Channel drove them to seek refuge off Weymouth and to land the next day at Melcombe. Some of his ships were lost and most of them scattered for the time being. When he heard of this Henry VII sent help and invitations. The outcome was the exercise by Henry of zealous and prolonged hospitality, cordially extended with great ceremony and lavish entertainments, with exchanges of the Garter and the Golden Fleece, continued for so long that it was not until 23 April5 that Philip finally set sail again.

  But naturally these three months saw a great deal of negotiation, and Henry was now in a very strong position to drive bargains with Philip. As early as 9 February 1506 in the secret Treaty of Windsor, Henry VII went far to commit himself to the cause of the Hapsburgs in Spain, recognized Philip as king of Castile, and pledged himself (within limits) to assist him with military aid should any person invade his dominions which he was then possessed of or which he or his heirs and successors in future should have right to possess. In effect Henry promised to assist Philip in the Netherlands, in the Narrow Seas, or in Castile. It is true that the promise was limited to ‘such an army as he might be able to spare and as the circumstances may demand’, with the king of Castile paying the expenses, but the importance of the commitment must not therefore be underrated. ‘The Treaty of Windsor countered the Treaty of Blois (which Ferdinand had made with Louis XII), and the realignment of Europe was completed.’1 Henry VII now aligned himself with the Hapsburgs in Spain against the schemes of Ferdinand of Aragon. He had perceived that if Ferdinand’s position in Castile could be undermined, Aragon would sink to a third-class power. The two princes promised mutual assistance and refusal to countenance the other’s rebels. Philip concluded the treaty in his own name and in that of his father Maximilian, but it was to remain valid even if Maximilian failed to ratify it within four months. By 20 March Philip concluded with Henry a treaty of marriage between Henry and Philip’s sister Margaret of Savoy, with full details as to dowry, rights of succession, etc., and all backed by the previously-given authority of Maximilian.2 So far as Henry was concerned, this treaty was ratified on 15 May 1506. Long before then he had had the satisfaction of the fulfilment of what to him was a highly important practical point – the surrender at long last of the ‘White Rose’ in the person of Edmund de la Pole, earl of Suffolk. Edmund was by Philip’s orders brought to Calais on 16 March, handed over and escorted to Dover and the Tower of London, where he remained for the rest of his life.3 A few days before Philip embarked from Falmouth on 23 April he authorized his agents to conclude the commercial treaty to be known as the Intercursus Malus, to be confirmed within three months. Henry duly confirmed it on 15 May, but the confirmation from the other party was never to be forthcoming.1

  Whilst King Philip and Queen Joanna were pursuing their claims and policies in Spain, Maximilian and Henry VII continued the somewhat inconclusive correspondence on the subject of the marriage proposed and at least nominally agreed upon between Henry and Margaret of Savoy.2 By mid-September, however, Maximilian began proposing that a marriage should be arranged between his grandson Charles, Philip’s son, and Henry’s daughter Mary, and at much the same time was obliged to admit that he had not yet been able to persuade Margaret of Savoy to agree to a match with Henry himself, though he promised to continue to try.3 But on 25 September Philip died, and the prospects for the important parts of Henry’s diplomacy died with him, as well as any prospect of an early union between Philip’s possessions in the Netherlands with Castile.

  The death of Philip opened up the possibility that his widow might marry again, and that Henry might be her second husband. There was nothing shocking about such a proposal at this time. Profoundly shaken by her bereavement as she was, there was not as yet any reason to suppose that she was deranged. Henry had seen a good deal of her during the visit to England, and apparently had been favourably impressed by her.4 It was all the more likely that his thoughts would turn towards her after Maximilian had informed him that despite prolonged personal argument with his daughter, Margaret of Savoy had turned down the prospect of marrying Henry and had decided to remain a widow.5 All that Henry could do by May 1507 was to write amiable letters to Margaret, now regent of the Netherlands for her nephew the young Archduke Charles, seeking to placate her on the commercial questions, and hoping for a confirmation of the treaties that Philip had agreed upon, without, presumably, the clauses relating to the marriage project or the more objectionable parts of the Intercursus Malus6 It was still possible, however, to envisage a future marriage between Henry’s daughter Mary, and Philip and Joanna’s son the Archduke Charles. A treaty including that proposal, as well as a treaty of alliance between Henry and Charles, was concluded on 21 December 1507, and finally confirmed by Margaret as regent on 1 October 1508.1 The future prospects for a powerful alliance seemed assured.

  But nothing was to come of the project for a marriage between Henry and the widowed Joanna. Catherine of Aragon could inform her father Ferdinand of Henry’s aspiration before March 1507,2 and could herself write to her sister on 25 October commending the match in glowing terms3 (perhaps at Henry’s behest); Ferdinand could dissemble and assert several times that if Joanna ma
rried anyone it should be Henry VII,4 but time passed without any outcome, and the project faded away, not surprisingly because in fact Joanna was being kept in close confinement, first by Ferdinand and then by the archduke, later the Emperor Charles V, in harsh and at times brutal conditions, and the story of her ‘madness’ was never, until perhaps towards the end of her long life, more than very successful propaganda put out by her ruthless and unscrupulous father and son. It is probable that Henry VII knew or suspected the truth, which oddly enough appears largely to have evaded the serious consideration of modern historians.5

  In the few months that remained for Henry, he was not able to carry any of his own matrimonial schemes to fruition. No further alliances were to be concluded. He had woven his complicated webs of diplomacy; his agents had probed here and there; his indefatigable and ill-rewarded resident ambassador in Spain, John Stile, could send him an immense amount of news, rumour, and gossip from Spain on 26 April 15091 – that was to be too late for his master ever to receive it. Henry remained on friendly even if wary terms with the chief powers of Europe, who all seem to have held him in respect, even though perhaps by 1508 they had begun to discount somewhat his capacity to intervene effectively in their affairs. He seems, indeed, to have lost some of his grasp of international affairs towards the end of 1508; he fell ill for a time and was unaware of the realities underlying the conference of the powers summoned to meet at Cambrai in December of that year. He assumed that the meeting would be between Burgundy and France, and that Ferdinand would not be invited.2 In fact it was Henry who was not invited, and the League of Cambrai that resulted was a league aimed against Venice formed by Maximilian, the Archduke Charles, Louis XII, the pope, and Ferdinand. All these rulers in one way or another, however, continued to display moderate goodwill towards Henry; and did nothing to thwart his plans for the prospective marriages of his son and daughter. No vital interests of his were threatened by the League, and indeed the preoccupation of its members with Italy diverted any pressures they might otherwise have been inclined to exert towards England. When the end came for Henry on 21 April 1509, he had no reason to feel unduly apprehensive about England’s international position. He had brought her to a point at which her friendship had been courted by all the chief powers, who, even though they could scarcely by then have feared any active military intervention on his part, had learned to respect his financial power, his knowledge of foreign affairs, and his diplomatic skill, his shrewd judgment, and up to a point his reliability. He had attempted no grandiose schemes, no aggrandizement by military threats; he cherished no illusions that he could or should emulate the glories of Henry V, but he achieved a solidity of position beyond the reach of the victor of Agin-court. What his son and heir might be able to build on this position, if anything, remained to be seen.