and, instructed by Louis, kept his ears open to Henry's angry denunciations of his perfidious allies. He represented to him that Anne, the Queen of France, being dead, there was a noble opportunity of avenging himself on these ungrateful princes, and of forming an alliance with Louis which would make them all tremble. Mary, the Princess of England, might become Queen of France, and thus a league established between England and France which should decide the fate of Europe.

Henry's resentment and wounded honour would of themselves have made him close eagerly with this proposal; but he saw in it the most substantial advantages, and in a moment made up his mind. He had the policy, however, to appear to demur, and said his people would never consent for him to renounce his hereditary claims in France, which must be the case if such an alliance took place. They would ask themselves what equivalent they should obtain for so great a surrender. The shrewd Frenchman understood the suggestion; he communicated what passed to his Government, and proposals were quickly sent to meet Henry's views. Louis agreed to pay Henry a- million of crowns in discharge of all arrears due to Henry VII. from Charles VIII., &c.; and Henry engaged to give his sister a dower of 200,000 crowns, to pay the expenses of her journey, and to supply her with jewelsprobably those of which he had defrauded the Scottish queen. The two kings agreed to assist each other, in case of any attack, by a force of 14,000 men, or, in case of any attack by either of them on another power, by half that number. This treaty was to continue for the lives of the two kings, and a year longer.

Thus was the Holy League, as it had been called, for the defence of the Pope and the church against the King of France, entirely done away with; and this great pretence was not so much as mentioned in any one of these treaties which put an end to it. The King of France strove hard to obtain Tournay again; but, though it was evidently Henry's interest to restore it, his favourite Wolsey, apprehensive of losing the profits of the bishopric, opposed its restoration, and succeeded. Wolsey and Fox of Durham were Henry's plenipotentiaries for the management of the treaty, which was signed on the 7th of August, 1514.

both he and Queen Catherine took an affectionate leave of her, and she embarked for Boulogne, attended by a distinguished suit, in which were the conqueror of Flodden, now Duke of Norfolk, and her lover Brandon, Duke of Suffolk. Anne Boleyn, a girl of fourteen years of age, or thereabout, was one of her maids of honour. A splendid and numerous party of French nobility received their new queen on landing, and conducted her to Abbeville, where Louis met them, and the marriage was celebrated the next day, October 8th, in the cathedral. The ceremony was brilliant in all circumstances but the condition of the bridegroom. It was performed by a cardinal, and was attended by the whole French Court in all its splendour; but Louis himself was suffering all the horrors of a violent attack of gout during the whole of it. After the mass there was a grand banquet given, and Louis appeared highly delighted with his wife; but the very next day the scene changed, and, with a ruthlessness of which in such circumstances perhaps a gouty old gentleman only was capable, he dismissed all Queen Mary's English attendants, excepting three, of whom the little Boleyn was one. He would not concede to his bride's entreaties, accompanied by floods of tears, that at least her governess, Lady Guildford, to whom she was fondly attached, and whom she called "Mother Guildford," should remain with her. Brandon and Norfolk, however, proceeded to Paris as ambassadors. Mary, who did not want spirit, protested against this sweeping dismissal of her attendants, and entreated her ancient spouse; but all in vain. To her pleading for her "Mother Guildford," when she could not obtain leave of stay for the others, Louis replied that he was quite as able to entertain her as her governess. Indignant at this treatment, Mary wrote off to her royal brother, and at the same time to Wolsey. She depicted her mortification in glowing terms, and exclaimed, "Would to God that my Lord of York had come with me in the room of Norfolk! for then I am sure I should have been left much more at my heart's ease than I am now." Mary shows in this who was the really influential man at the English Court now; and in addressing Wolsey, who was already Archbishop of York, she called him her loving friend, and, after describing to him her treatment,

Mary Tudor, as may be supposed, was in no hurry to proceed to France to complete the wedding; but Louis, who, though on the point of going out of the world altogether, was of an amorous disposition, and, impatient for the arrival of his blooming young bride, sent repeatedly to hasten her departure. On the 2nd of September he wrote to Wolsey, who was now all-powerful in the English Court, desiring that he would see that the queen was set forward on her journey, and the Duke of Orleans also wrote to Mary herself, entreating her to hasten her departure. It was, however, another month before she set out, when Henry and a brilliant party from the Court accompanied the princoss to Dover. There

took her nearly six hours to advance from the Porte St. Denis to the palace. Besides this, she had to witness a grand allegoric pageant, where the union of the lily and the rose of course figured prominently. Then followed jousts and tournaments, in which Brandon-Mary's husband that should have been-carried off nearly all the honours and prizes, whilst poor Louis-the husband that was-sat or lay in a litter, an object of pitiable decay. The gallant Brandon is said, by his good looks and his chivalrous ascendancy, to have excited a great deal of jealousy amongst the French knights; and we may not be far wrong if we attribute the snappishness of Louis to the same cause, for the French writers of the period declare that the attachment betwixt the queen and Brandon was obvious to all eyes, though they conducted themselves with all honour and decorum.

66

But this unnatural political mésalliance was not destined to be of long duration. Louis wrote in the course of December to Henry, expressing his happiness in possessing so excellent and amiable a wife, and on the 1st of January he expired. The dissipation at Court, consequent on his marriage, is stated in the "Life of Bayard" to have precipitated his end. "For the good king, on account of his wife, had changed the whole manner of his life. He had been accustomed to dine at eight o'clock, now he had to dine at noon; he had been accustomed to retire to rest at six in the evening, and now he had often to sit up till midnight." Louis was greatly beloved by his subjects, who regarded him as a brave, upright, and wise prince, and gave him the honourable title of "the father of his people." His death was a misfortune, if not to his wife, at least to the nation, for it weakened again the alliance with England, and exposed France afresh to the machinations of Maximilian and Ferdinand, two of the greatest dissemblers of any age. These monarchs were extremely anxious to secure Mary now for their grandson Charles, though they had before suffered their original betrothal to be broken. But Francis I., now King of France, exerted himself successfully to defeat their object. There is little doubt that Francis would have liked to have made her his own, but he was recently married to the daughter of Louis and Anne of Brittany, the Princess Claude. That not being possible, he knew, however, where Mary's heart lay, and he did all in his power to strengthen her to follow its dictates.

Ten days after Louis' death, Mary wrote to Wolsey, desiring to know the pleasure of her royal brother regarding her, seeing that the King of France was dead, and giving herself credit for having conducted herself in a manner reflecting all honour on her royal brother and herself. This she followed by a fresh epistle to Henry himself, in which she implored him to recall her home, declaring that there was nothing that she longed for so much as to see his face. Henry dispatched of all others the most welcome messenger to bring her home-her old lover, the Duke of Suffolk, accompanied by Sir Richard Wingfield and Dr. West. Mary, who had been not three months a wife, and now scarcely two months a widow, welcomed Brandon with all her heart, and privately said to him that he had dared once to address her, as desiring to make her his wife, did he now dare to repeat that wish? Brandon, who loved her passionately, was

137

yet deterred by his dread of Henry's resentment, and requested leave to ask Henry's permission; but Mary told him that it would be much easier to obtain Henry's forgiveness when the thing was done, than his leave to do it. Francis warmly seconded this royal wooing, and they were privately married, and set out on their way to England. Mary wrote to announce the marriage to Henry, saying she had once married to please him, and thought it now only reasonable to wed to please herself. Francis also wrote to mollify the royal brother; and though Henry either was, ar pretended to be, very angry at first, he soon relented. The duke and duchess did not proceed at once to Court, but retired to their estate in Suffolk. But as Henry was not only greatly attached to his sister, but to Brandon, who had been brought up with them from boyhood, and was highly esteemed by Henry on account of his superiority in all martial and manly exercises, the storm soon blew over. Wolsey is said to have been in the secret from the first, and such was his influence now, that a much more difficult matter would have given way before it. The young couple were received into favour, and ordered by Henry to be re-married before him at Greenwich, an event which took place on the 13th of May, 1515. So far was the part which Francis I. had taken in this matter from being resented, that he and Henry renewed all the engagements which existed betwixt Louis and Henry, and so satisfactorily that they boasted that they had made a peace which would last for ever.

We have had frequent occasion already to introduce the name of Wolsey; we shall for a long period yet, have still more frequent and more surprising occasion to repeat that name: and it is therefore necessary to take a complete view of the man who was now rapidly rising into a prominence before Europe and all the world, such as has few examples in history, in one whose origin was as mean as his ascent was dazzling, and his fall sudden and irrevocable.

In the reign of Henry VII. we find first the name of Thomas Wolsey coming to public view as the private secretary of the king at the time of the forced visit of the Archduke Philip to the English Court. This originally obscure clergyman was the son of a butcher of Ipswich, who appears to have been wealthy, and, therefore, could afford to give his son an education at the university. Probably the worthy butcher was induced to this step by a perception of the lad's uncommon cleverness, for at Oxford he displayed so much talent that he was soon distinguished by the title of the Boy Bachelor. He became teacher of the grammar-school adjoining Magdalen College, and amongst his pupils had the sons of the Marquis of Dorset, on whom he so far won, that he gave him the somewhat valuable living of Limington, in Somersetshire. This might seem substantial promotion for the butcher's son, but an eagle, though hatched in the nest of a barn-door fowl, is sure to soar up toward the sun. Thomas Wolsey was not destined to the obscurity of a country parish. The same abilities and address which won him the favour of the marquis were capable of attracting far higher patrons. The spirit and genius of Wolsey were as clearly made for the atmosphere of courts and the guidance of kingdoms, as the eagle's wings are for soaring and its claws for clutching

royal prey. There was a polarity in his nature which drew him inevitably toward courts. He united in his nature the highest talents for pleasure, talents for yielding grateful homage to his superiors, and for commanding all below him. In a word, he was a great man, not particular about the means of greatness, as sure to rise to the surface of affairs as a cork to the surface of a flood, and of sailing on to glory there, as the most august man-of-war that ever trod down proudly the waves that bore it.

at Limington, Sir Amias Paulet confined him in the stocks-a disgrace of so flagrant a kind to a clergyman in his own parish, that it was not likely ever to be forgotten; and accordingly, when he rose to power, he took care to avenge himself on the unfortunate Amias by a long course of the severest persecution.

Leaving his country parish where he had been thus disgraced, he seems to have been introduced by Sir John Nanfan to Fox, the Bishop of Winchester, and minister to Henry VII., who introduced him to the king, who

Wolsey was all gravity and discretion in the presence of the grave, and all attention to business with a man of official habits whom it was his interest to please; but he could throw off that with the same ease as he threw off his cloak, and come out amongst the genial and the pleasure-seeking one of the most jolly, merry, roystering, and amusing comrades. In his earliest career he is said to have been not so careful of appearances as he ought; and was noted for his unclerical licence of conduct, and his indulgence in the most riotous and sensual dissipations. For his degrading behaviour in his living

was but nineteen, Wolsey was forty; yet not a young gallant about the Court could so completely adapt himself to the fancy of the young pleasure-loving and powerloving king. In a very few months he was Henry's bosom friend-the associate in all his gaieties, the repository of all his secrets, the dispenser of all his favours, and, in reality, his only confidential minister. Henry seemed wrapped in admiration at the union of intellect and courtly accomplishment in the wonderful man. He gave him a grant of all deodands and forfeitures of felony, and went on continually adding to these other offices, benefices, and grants. In November, 1510, he was admitted a member of the Privy Council, and from that time he was really Prime Minister. Henry could move nowhere without his great friend and counsellor. He took him with him on his expedition to France in 1513, there conferred on him the wealthy bishopric of Tournay, and on his return made him Bishop of Lincoln, and gave him the opulent Abbey of St. Alban's in commendam.

The ascent of Wolsey was now rapid. From the very commencement of his career at Court no man had been able to stand before him. Bishop Fox had first recommended his introduction into the Privy Council because growing old himself, he perceived that the Earl of Surrey, afterwards conqueror of Flodden, and Duke of Norfolk, was winning higher favour with the king than the ancient bishop; because his martial tastes and more courtly character were more attractive to Henry. Wolsey soon showed himself so successful that he not only cast Surrey, but his own patron, into the shade. In everything Wolsey could participate in the monarch's pursuits and amusements. Henry had already an ambition of literary and polemic distinction. He had studied the school divinity, and was an ardent admirer of Thomas Aquinas. Here Wolsey was quite at home; for he was extensively read, and would, as a matter of course, soon refresh himself on any learned topic which was his master's hobby. While he flattered the young king's vanity, he was ready to contribute to his whims and his pleasures.

The churchman was not the less ready at the feast and in affairs of gallantry. He soon perceived Henry's fondness for pageants and expensive Court entertainments, and he at once showed himself the most accomplished master of revels and contriver of decorations and devices that had ever appeared. Fox hitherto had been the "arbiter elegantiarum," but his genius paled at once before the more resplendent one of Wolsey. Wolsey flattered Henry in all his follies to the top of his bent, and soon was seen the ruling power at Court, whether in the hours of business or merriment. With all his deep-lying cunning, and boundless ambition, he had an air of honest bluntness which, above all things, charmed the young king, who delighted in the title of Bluff Harry. At that early period when Henry, says one of the writers of the time, had "as little inclination to trouble himself with business as a wild ox has to be yoked to the plough," Wolsey took care that the business should not be neglected. It was his advice that "the king should hawk and hunt, and, as much as him list, use honest recreations. If so be he should at any time desire suddenly to become an old man, by intermed

dling in old men's cares, he should not want those (meaning himself) that would in the evening, in one or two words, relate the effect of a whole day's consultations." And thus the butcher's son was in brief time become the real ruler of the nation, the master of the monarch.

On the 14th of July, 1514, Leo X. addressed a letter to Henry, informing him that his ambassador, Cardinal Bambridge, the Archbishop of York, had died that day; and that, at the request of the deceased, he had promised not to appoint a successor till he had learnt the pleasure of His Majesty. This pleasure, there can be no doubt, was already known; and that the Pope, like every one now, perceiving the power of the favourite, was ready to conciliate him. The king at once named Wolsey to his Holiness, and showed that he was quite satisfied that that nomination would be confirmed, by at once placing the archbishopric and all its revenues in the custody of the favourite. Thus was this great son of fortune at once possessed of the Archbishopric of York, the Bishoprics of Tournay and Lincoln, the administration of the Bishoprics of Worcester, Hereford, and Bath, the possessors of which were Italians, who resided abroad, and were glad to secure a portion of their revenues by resigning to the great native prelate the rest. Henry even allowed Wolsey, with the See of York, to unite that of Durham, as he afterwards did that of Winchester. The Pope, seeing more and more the marvellous influence of the man, before this year was out made him a cardinal. "For," says Hall, "when he was once archbishop, he studied day and night how to be a cardinal, and caused the king and the French king to write to Rome for him." Leo found a strong opposition amongst the cardinals to this promotion; but, desirous to oblige both Henry and Francis, he declared him a cardinal in full consistory, on September 11th. Francis was, at the moment, in Italy, and was in haste to be the first to give Wolsey the joyful news. Wolsey pretended to be unwilling to accept so high a dignity; but Henry settled all his feigned modesty by saluting him as "My lord cardinal."

My Lord Cardinal Wolsey almost immediately received a fresh favour from the Pope, who appointed him legato in England. This commission was originally limited to two years, but Wolsey never relinquished the office again. He obtained from succeeding Popes a continuation of the post, asking from time to time even fresh powers, till ho at length exercised within the realm almost all the prerogatives of the Pontiff. The only step above him now was the Papacy itself, and on that dignity he had already fixed his ambitious eye.

From the moment that Wolsey saw himself a cardinal and Papal legate, as well as chief favourite of the king, his ambition displayed itself without restraint, and we shall have to paint, in his career, one of the most amazing instances of the pride, power, and grandeur of a subject. When his cardinal's hat was brought to England, ho sent a splendid deputation to meet the bearer of it at Blackheath, and to conduct him through London, as if he had been the Pope himself. He gave a reception of the hat in Westminster Hall, which more resembled a coronation than the official investiture of a subject and a clergyman. His arrogance and ostentation disgusted all