On the 29th July 1521, a commission was appointed to conclude a treaty for Mary’s marriage with the Emperor for which a dispensation was to be obtained from the Pope on account of their near relationship. This treaty was concluded, signed and sealed on the 24th November of the same year, on which day also, Francis I., writing to his ambassador in London, remarks that the contract between the Princess of England and the Dauphin is to remain in its entirety,[29] a curious satire on the good faith of princes. Moreover, while Francis thus proclaimed the peace and amity supposed to exist between himself and Henry, Charles was stipulating with Henry for a descent to be made by the English on the shores of France, not later than March, 1522. A fleet was to be provided by both parties, each contributing 3,000 men. It would be possible to regard Francis with some pity, as a miserable dupe, were it not for his own propensity for the same amount of false swearing. By February, he was in possession of the facts, but for some reason or other, war was not declared till June. On the 6th May, Contarini, the Venetian envoy, was able to inform the Signory of Mary’s approaching betrothal to the Emperor, adding that Henry was about to send a gentleman to France, to repudiate the French treaty. On the 27th, Charles landed at Dover, and was received on the sands by Wolsey, attended by 300 nobles, knights and gentlemen. Leaning on the Cardinal’s arm, the Emperor proceeded to Dover Castle, where he remained for two days, being joined by Henry. On the road to Canterbury, and thence to Greenwich, they were greeted by the people with every demonstration of joy, the English looking upon Charles as the monarch of the world, and feeling flattered by his condescension in wedding a daughter of England.[30] At the great gates of Greenwich Palace stood the Queen and her daughter Mary, now six years old, to welcome him. The Emperor dropped on one knee, and asked Katharine’s blessing, “having,” says the chronicler Hall, “great joy to see the queen, his aunt, and in especiall his young cousin germain, the lady Mary”. All who saw Mary at this time spoke favourably of her appearance. “She promises,” said Martin de Salinas, “to become a handsome lady, although it is difficult to form an idea of her beauty, as she is still so small.” Others describe her as a fair child, with a profusion of flaxen ringlets, and the admiration of all.