19
At the end of the year, “the King kept a solemn Christmas at Greenwich to cheer his nobles.”1 The Wardrobe issued twelve yards of yellow sarcanet to Sir Henry Guildford and Nicholas Carew, a young gentleman who was of the King’s “own bringing up,” for a “mummery” in which Brandon and Mistress Carew also took part.2
Nicholas Carew was rising to prominence through his expertise in the lists. The son of the Captain of Calais, whose forbears had been loyal servants of the Crown, he was a cultivated youth of about seventeen, “well-mannered and having the French tongue.”3He had been placed in Prince Henry’s household at the age of six, and shared his education; the King thought very well of him, and often sought his company. Carew’s wife was Elizabeth, the beautiful daughter of Sir Thomas Bryan, Vice Chamberlain to the Queen; her sister Margaret was Guildford’s first wife.4
Soon after Christmas, Henry went down with “a fever” which proved to be smallpox. “The physicians were afraid for his life,” but by the beginning of February he had risen from his bed, “fierce against France.”5 He could not wait to return to the field.
The King was still convalescent when he rewarded those who had served him so well during the campaigns of 1513. At Candlemas, 1514, he created Charles Brandon Duke of Suffolk and restored to Surrey the dukedom of Norfolk. The King’s cousin and Lord Chamberlain, Charles Somerset, Lord Herbert, was at the same time made Earl of Worcester. He was the bastard son of the last Beaufort Duke of Somerset, and had acquitted himself with valour in France.
The ceremony of ennoblement took place after high mass on 2 February in the great chamber at Lambeth Palace, and followed the form laid down in the fourteenth century when Edward III had advanced his sons to the peerage. Each Duke was invested with a crimson robe and cap of estate, a coronet and sword, and a gold rod. He now had the right to be styled the “right high and mighty Prince,” but was usually addressed as “Your Grace.”6 The ceremony was watched by the Queen and her ladies, the Duc de Longueville, and a host of peers who were in London to attend Parliament. The press of people “was somewhat great, notwithstanding the doors were straitly kept.”7
The new peerage creations were not universally popular, especially that of Suffolk. “Many considered it very surprising,” wrote Polydose Vergil. Buckingham especially was furious at the ennoblement of Brandon, whom he considered an upstart and “not of a very noble lineage,” 8 and pointedly stayed away from the ceremony. It was Buckingham’s rival Wolsey who had advised the King to advance his friend, possibly with a view to offsetting the new Duke of Norfolk’s influence on the Council.
When Henry granted Brandon the estates formerly held by Edmund de la Pole, Brandon became at a stroke much wealthier, and therefore more powerful, than most of the landed aristicracy. He seemed, wrote a Burgundian observer, to be “a second King, . . . one who does and undoes.” 9 The standard-bearer’s son took it all in his stride. “No one ever bore so vast a rise with so easy a dignity,” declared a Venetian, assuring the Senate that Suffolk was now “the chief nobleman of England” and “a liberal and magnificent lord.”10 The older nobility looked askance: they were jealous of Suffolk’s influence and distrusted his ambition. Erasmus spoke for them all when he wrote scathingly of the former Master of the Horse, “The King has recently turned that new Duke from a stable boy into a nobleman.”11
Suffolk’s power now rivalled that of the other new Duke, Norfolk, who, in recognition of his victory at Flodden, was granted the right to display the royal arms of Scotland alongside his own, with the Scottish lion impaled with an arrow, as James IV’s had been. He was also made Earl Marshal of England for life. Norfolk’s son, another Thomas Howard, now became Earl of Surrey at the age of forty-one. In 1512, on his father’s resignation, he had succeeded as Lord Treasurer of England, and in 1513 he had commanded the vanguard at Flodden. He had been married first to Anne of York, daughter of Edward IV, but she and their four infant children were dead by 1513, and Howard had recently married Buckingham’s fourteen-year-old daughter Elizabeth. Naturally, the blue-blooded Howards had little love for Suffolk, and were poised to destroy him should the chance arise.
The King did not forget the man who had worked so hard to make the French campaign a success. On 6 February, Wolsey was appointed Bishop of Lincoln; his consecration followed on 26 March. Wolsey was to further prove his worth when, in March, Henry’s allies, Ferdinand of Aragon and Maximilian, went behind his back and signed a truce with Louis XII. The King, in truth a political innocent, was devastated at their desertion, and characteristically sought a scapegoat for this betrayal. Queen Katherine, the faithless Ferdinand’s daughter, bore the brunt of her husband’s anger, and suddenly ceased to be be his most trusted adviser; there were even rumours in Rome that year that he intended to divorce her.
To make matters worse, Henry’s sister Mary was betrothed to the Archduke Charles of Austria, Prince of Castile, the heir to both Ferdinand and Maximilian. Preparations for the wedding, which was to take place abroad before 15 May, were already well advanced. The King was fond of his sister and, at enormous cost, had provided her with a fabulous trousseau of sumptuous clothing, jewellery, furnishings, and plate.12 He had even sent fabric samples to Margaret of Austria, Charles’s aunt, and asked if Mary’s clothes should be made up in the Burgundian style; the Regent had simply advised that her dress should be “queenly and honourable.” 13 Queen Katherine had appointed the Countess of Oxford as the Princess’s chief lady-in-waiting, and a list of the 101 persons who would make up her retinue had already been sent for Margaret’s approval.
Mary Tudor was then eighteen, “a nymph from Heaven, a paradise.” 14 “Nature never formed anything more beautiful,” declared Erasmus.15 Mary was tall and graceful, with the red-gold hair of her race16 and a fair complexion achieved without the aid of cosmetics.17 She had a charming, lively manner, excelled at conversation, and loved dancing and music; she sang well and played several instruments. No prince could have had a more fit mate.
But now there was to be no wedding. Wolsey sought to save the King’s face by advocating an alliance with France. Wolsey was no imperialist, and regarded successive emperors as his adversaries in his later quest for the papacy. Throughout the period of his ascendancy, he would remain strongly pro-French, which was one of the reasons why Queen Katherine so distrusted him.
It took a while to persuade the King to favour this new alliance, but one thing was blindingly clear to everyone, and that was that Henry had come to rely on Wolsey’s judgement and advice more than anyone else’s. Wolsey had become the chief councillor, answerable only to the King, and from now on he would be all-powerful.
Even Suffolk did not enjoy as much influence, so it is not surprising to find that the Duke was jealous. Hitherto, of the “two obstinate men who govern everything,” he had been the foremost in the King’s counsels.18 Now, although Henry might still be firm friends with him, he had been bested by his more able rival, and although on the surface the two remained cordial, it would be some time before he could bring himself to establish an amicable working relationship with Wolsey. Before that happened, he would have cause to be very grateful indeed to Wolsey.
There was mutual hatred between the Howards and Wolsey. The last years of Norfolk’s life were overshadowed by a bitter power struggle with his adversary, who never ceased in his attempts to poison the King’s mind against him; to Henry’s credit, he did not let this undermine the affection and respect he had for the Duke. In 1529, Wolsey confessed to the then Duke of Norfolk (who was Earl of Surrey in 1514) that he had been trying to destroy him for the past fourteen years, and had the Howards had the chance, they would doubtless have done the same to him. Nevertheless, they often found themselves in agreement with Wolsey’s policies and working in tandem with him, whereas Buckingham and Shrewsbury were opposed to everything he did on principle.
Buckingham loathed Wolsey, and was probably his greatest enemy. He certainly led the noble opposition to the lowborn arriviste who had usurped the aristocrat’s traditional role of chief adviser to the King. On one memorable occasion, when the Duke had the privilege of holding a basin for the King to wash his hands in before dinner, he was shocked when Wolsey had the temerity to dip his fingers in the same water, and deliberately spilt some over Wolsey’s shoes, which resulted in a very public row.19 Buckingham had not the sense to perceive that it was his own hauteur, aloofness, and sheer lack of ability that had prevented him from achieving the preeminence he felt ought to be his, nor the tact to hide his bitterness at being excluded from the royal counsels. Like most of his caste, he hated the French, England’s traditional enemies, and could never bring himself to approve of Wolsey’s foreign policy.
While Wolsey negotiated an honourable peace, Henry began building the first of his recreational complexes, at Greenwich. This consisted of two high octagonal brick towers with pinnacles at either end of a gallery overlooking a new tiltyard that measured 650 feet by 250 feet; from now on, a greater number of spectators could enjoy a better view of the jousts, and when not in use as a grandstand, the gallery would be utilised as a store for jousting equipment.20 Greenwich seems to have been a favourite venue for tournaments: at least ten were held here in the decade before 1520. The tiltyard complex can be seen clearly in drawings of the palace made by Anthony van Wyngaerde around 1555–1558.21
The new tiltyard may have been completed in time for the tournament held in May 1514, when the King and Suffolk appeared in the lists disguised as hermits, Henry in a white velvet habit with a cloak of leather and cloth of silver, Suffolk in black. Before the jousts began, both threw off their disguises and tossed them to the Queen and her ladies as largesse. Now Henry was in black and Suffolk in white as they thundered down the field. In total, 114 lances were broken.22
On 19 May, there arrived for the King from Rome a sword and cap of maintenance, consecrated by Pope Leo X. The Pontiff had also been offended by the duplicity of Ferdinand and Maximilian, and wanted to reassure Henry of his friendship and retain his goodwill as an ally.
The papal ambassador, Dom Leonardo Spinelli, was received in London with great pomp by “sundry lords with some 400 horses.” Crowds thronged the streets, eager to see the Pope’s gifts. The cap was carried aloft on the tip of the gilded sword; it was of purple satin, a foot high, with an embroidered brim and pendant tails of ermine.
Two days later, Henry, who had been staying in the Bishop’s Palace by St. Paul’s, donned robes of purple satin chequered with gold flowers, “a jewelled collar worth a well full of gold,” a cap of purple velvet with two jewelled rosettes, and a doublet of gold brocade, then rode on a beautiful black palfrey in procession to the cathedral, surrounded by his courtiers. At the door he dismounted and walked to the high altar, where the papal envoy waited with the sword and cap. As the King knelt, two noblemen girded him with the sword and placed the cap on his head. It was too big, and covered his face completely, but he presumably adjusted it before making “an entire circuit of the interior of the church.” After the procession, “high mass commenced with great pomp and with vocal and instrumental music.” The King left the cathedral at 1 P.M., followed by the ambassadors and courtiers walking two by two back to the Bishop’s Palace. A Venetian estimated that thirty thousand spectators had come to watch.23
The King had for some time been building up England’s navy, of which he is with justification regarded as one of the chief founders. Henry adored ships and was fascinated by the technology of naval warfare. He had inherited only a few vessels from his father, but was determined make his navy a power to be reckoned with on the high seas. By the end of his reign, he had built forty-six warships and thirteen smaller galleys, purchased twenty-six other ships, and captured thirteen more.24 At the time, this was the greatest navy in the world: although equal in size to those of other countries, it was far better organised and disciplined.
Henry was also interested in navigation. Among other scientific aids, he owned a rare tidal almanack of Europe and a perpetual lunar calendar. 25 He knew more about French tidal waters than the experts did, 26 and his Lord Admirals learned to trust his encyclopaedic knowledge of naval matters.
On 13 June 1514, Henry launched his greatest ship yet, the Henry Grace à Dieu, which came to be known as the “Great Harry.” The King and Queen, accompanied by the Princess Mary, various ambassadors, and the whole court,27 went in their state barges by water from Greenwich to Erith, where the great warship lay; eyewitnesses claimed this was the greatest pageant yet seen on the River Thames. 28 The King was dressed in a vest and breeches of cloth of gold with scarlet hose, while around his neck hung a whistle on a gold chain, the insignia of the supreme commander of the navy.29
The Henry Grace à Dieu was a very large vessel with “five decks and seven tops.”30 She had “no equal in bulk” and had “an incredible array”31 of more than two hundred bronze and iron cannon.32 When the King and court had boarded the splendid vessel, she was blessed with “many masses, including high mass sung for the benediction.”33 Then Henry conducted everyone on a guided tour of the ship.34 He would always retain a special affection for the “Great Harry,” and when she was in dock at Rye some years later, he went to view her and dined on board.
Wolsey’s negotiations with France reached a successful conclusion in the summer. On 30 July, at the royal manor of Wanstead, Essex, the Princess Mary formally renounced her betrothal to Charles of Castile. A week later, the peace with France was proclaimed, and it was announced that Mary was to marry King Louis himself.
Henry showed his gratitude to Wolsey by immediately nominating him Archbishop of York, the previous incumbent, Cardinal Christopher Bainbridge, having just died in Rome. A month later, Wolsey was also made Bishop of Tournai. It seemed the King could not do enough for him. He now wrote to the Vatican, urging Pope Leo to appoint him a cardinal, “since his merits are such that the King can do nothing of the least importance without him, and esteems him among his dearest friends.”35
Wolsey did not set foot in his northern diocese for many years, nor was he immediately consecrated. He was more interested in the trappings of power and status. His promotion brought him York Place at Westminster, which had been the London residence of the archbishops of York since the thirteenth century. Wolsey immediately had it surveyed, then set about extending it in the grand manner, creating “a very fine palace”36 where he could entertain the King and others in princely style. 37 In 1514–1515, he spent £1,250 (£375,000) on improvements.
Visitors were overawed by the splendour of York Place. Now faced with red brick and built on a courtyard plan, it had a great hall and chapel, a watching chamber, a presence chamber, a dining chamber, a gallery, an armoury, and a cloister. Beneath the watching chamber was a wine cellar, which still survives.38 Giustinian described how he “traversed eight rooms before reaching [Wolsey’s] audience chamber. They were all hung with tapestry which was changed once a week. Wherever Wolsey was, he always had a sideboard of plate worth 25,000 ducats.”39 The palace was a monument to exquisite taste, and boasted brightly jewelled chapel plate; sets of rich tapestries and hangings; paintings of the saints, the Emperor Trajan, “Dame Pleasaunce,” and the Duc de Berry; fine furniture of estate; jewellery; and a bedstead of alabaster bearing Wolsey’s arms and gilded flowers.40 There was also a delightful garden for the Archbishop’s personal use.
With the peace about to be concluded, Henry was satisfied and Wolsey triumphant, but the royal bride was not at all happy. She had no wish to marry the ailing King Louis, who at fifty-two was thirty-four years her senior, because she was almost certainly in love with Charles Brandon. The letters that passed between Mary, Suffolk, and Wolsey in 1515 reveal not only that the King was aware of his sister’s feelings, but that she had only “consented to his request, and for the peace of Christendom, to marry Louis of France, though he was very aged and sickly, on condition that if she survived him, she should marry whom she liked.”41 It transpired, however, that Henry had no intention of keeping his side of the bargain.