the cry of
Germany for a German head carried all before it. In June 1519 Charles was
elected Emperor; and France saw herself girt in on every side by a power
whose greed was even greater than her own. For, boy of nineteen as he was,
Charles from the first moment of his rule meant to make himself master of
the world; and France, thrown suddenly on the defensive, nerved herself
for the coming struggle. Both needed the gold and friendship of England.
Convinced as he was of Henry's treachery in the Imperial election, where
the English sovereign had promised Francis his support, the French king
clung to the alliance which Wolsey in his uncertainty as to the actual
drift of Charles had concluded in 1518, and pressed for an interview with
Henry himself. But the need of France had woke dreams of more than mere
safety or a balanced neutrality in Wolsey and his master. The time seemed
come at last for a bolder game. The claim on the French crown had never
been waived; the dream of recovering at least Guienne and Normandy still
lived on in the hearts of English statesmen; and the subtle, unscrupulous
youth who was now planning his blow for the mastery of the world knew well
how to seize upon dreams such as these. Nor was Wolsey forgotten. If Henry
coveted France, his minister coveted no less a prize than the Papacy; and
the young Emperor was lavish of promises of support in any coming
election. The result of his seductions was quickly seen. While Henry
deferred the interview with Francis till the summer of 1520, Charles had
already planned a meeting with his uncle in the opening of the year.

[Sidenote: League with Charles]

What importance Charles attached to this meeting was seen in his leaving
Spain ablaze with revolt behind him to keep his engagement. He landed at
Dover in the end of May, and King and Emperor rode alone to Canterbury,
but of the promises or pledges which passed we know little save from the
after-course of English politics. Nothing could have differed more vividly
from this simple ride than the interview with Francis which followed in
June. A camp of three hundred white tents surrounded a faery palace with
gilded posterns and brightly-coloured oriels which rose like a dream from
the barren plain of Guisnes, its walls hung with tapestry, its roof
embossed with roses, its golden fountain spouting wine over the
greensward. But all this pomp and splendour, the chivalrous embraces and
tourneys of the kings, the g