by Jean Plaidy
This greatly pleased everyone, and I was so happy that my bridegroom was making such efforts to be accepted by my people. I knew how stubborn they could be, but I did believe he was beginning to win them to his side.
We were to meet at Winchester. The weather continued to be appalling. The rain was torrential. When Philip left Southampton, he had to borrow a hat and cloak to cover his magnificent apparel, but even this was not adequate to protect him, and he was obliged to stop on the way to change his garments. What he must have thought of our weather, I could not imagine. I hoped he did not notice the murmuring that it meant God disapproved.
Poor Philip, how uncomfortable he must have felt to arrive in Winchester, his beautiful velvet garments splashed with mud and his bedraggled entourage soaked to the skin.
Fortunately it was dusk when he arrived and, because of the weather, there were few to see him. He went to the church, and there it was a different story. People had crowded into the building more to get a glimpse of him than to thank God for his safe, if damp, arrival.
After the service of thanksgiving, he went to the Dean's house close to the church. He was to stay there. I was in the Bishop's palace. I was waiting with great impatience. This was to be the most wonderful moment of my life so far. I was wildly excited, and I could not hide my state. Susan was beside me with some of my other favored ladies. I was aware of their anxious eyes on me.
And then he came… escorted by a few of the Spanish nobles who had accompanied him.
My heart leaped with joy at the sight of him. Small he undoubtedly was, and slight, but I had been warned of this, and it mattered not at all. He was wearing a doublet and trunks of spotless white kid. His surcoat was white and silver decorated with gold and silver thread-work. His cap matched it, and in this was a long white feather.
As he came toward me, I was conscious of his handsome looks, his youth, and I was filled with apprehension because I was eleven years older than he and doubtless looked it, particularly after all the trials of the last year. How did I look in my black velvet gown, my petticoat of frosted silver, my headdress of black velvet lined with gold? Was I too somber? Was he going to be disappointed in me? Never had I prayed so fervently that this might not be so.
Now we stood face to face, smiling at each other. I kissed my own hand and took his. He was determined to follow our customs and kissed me on the mouth. I was so happy. I refused to think of my age and that I was not beautiful. I was the Queen, and this man was to be my husband.
I led him to a canopy of state and sat down with him.
He could not speak English, so I spoke in French, which he understood, and he replied in Spanish, of which I had learned a little from my mother.
I told him how glad I was that he had arrived safely, and he said that he was happy to be here.
I asked him to tell me about the crossing and his journey to Southampton.
It was all trivial conversation for two people who were shortly to embark on what is surely the greatest adventure in life. All the time we talked we were studying each other. I was enchanted. I should have been in a state of ecstasy if I could have stopped myself wondering what effect I was having on him.
He was so dignified. If he were disappointed, he would never betray the fact. He said that he must learn some English, for he felt greatly at a disadvantage.
I understood how he felt, I said, and he would be surprised how quickly he would become familiar with our tongue.
“I hope it will be so,” he said. “The people will expect that.”
“I will teach you,” I told him.
“Teach me what I shall say to the lords of the Council when I take my leave.”
“That is simple. You could say, ‘Good night, my lords all.'”
It was amusing to hear him struggling with the words. We smiled together, and I was happy.
Then he said he would introduce me to his gentlemen, and I should do the same for him and my ladies.
He called his party to come to us, and they were presented to me. I was immediately struck by Ruy Gomez da Silva, a most distinguished man who, I discovered later, was a very close friend of Philip.
Then we turned to my ladies. Philip kissed them all. I was rather surprised but he said, “It is an English custom, is it not? I am determined to follow the English customs.”
The ladies were flushed and smiling, liking the attention. And I smiled with them. I was so happy that everything seemed wonderful.
We parted and I returned to my apartments in the palace. Susan was with me.
“What thought you of him?” I asked.
She hesitated and I looked at her sharply. “He is handsome—as they said he was,” she replied.
“You sound reluctant to admit it,” I said.
“N…no. He is like his portrait.”
“But what, Susan?”
“He is a little solemn.”
“It is a solemn occasion.”
“But perhaps not so when he kissed the ladies.”
I laughed. “Oh, he is trying to please us all by following what he thinks are our customs.”
“The custom to kiss the ladies…”
“He has an idea that we kiss, and he has to do it on every occasion.”
“That is a custom of which you will have to cure him,” she said.
“Susan, you are like the rest. You are critical of all those who are not English.”
“Is that so, Your Majesty? Then if you say so…”
I was a little put out because I had the feeling that she did not admire him as I thought she should.
Later that day he called on me. It was dark; the candles had been lighted; he asked to be admitted to my presence, and I was delighted. How romantic, that he should come to me thus, unceremoniously.
“I must speak with you,” he said. “It is why I have come.”
“I am so happy that you did,” I told him.
“I have just heard from my father. He is giving up the kingship of Naples, and it is to be mine. He does this because he thinks you should marry a king and not a mere prince.”
“How delightful! How wonderful!” I took his hand and kissed it. “Your Majesty, I am happy for you.”
Philip did not smile easily, I noticed, but he looked gratified.
So I was betrothed not merely to the Prince of Spain but to the King of Naples as well.
By this time a delegation had arrived at the palace; the Council assembled, and with them all the ladies and gentlemen of our households, while a declaration of the Emperor's donation to his son was read out.
The Council was pleased and agreed that it should be proclaimed in the cathedral next day when the marriage took place.
It was a day to which I greatly looked forward but not without a certain trepidation.
The rain had ceased. I looked out of the window. How fresh the earth smelt—how green were the grass and trees. I could catch the sweet scent of flowers below me.
I was in love. Tomorrow would be my wedding day.
I said to myself: This night there is none happier in this land than its Queen.
IT WAS THE FEAST of St. James, which was appropriate, for St. James is the patron saint of Philip's country.
The church in which the ceremony was to take place was magnificently decorated with scarlet and cloth of gold.
I was at the church before Philip, having walked from the episcopal palace. I was wearing a gold-colored robe richly brocaded, trimmed with pearls and diamonds; my coif was decorated with two rows of diamonds; and the kirtle beneath my robe was of white satin with silver tracing. I wore the diamond on the chain which Philip had sent me, and my train was carried by Lady Margaret Douglas.
When Philip arrived, I felt gloriously happy. He looked magnificent in garments which I myself had presented to him. They were quite magnificent, and I congratulated myself that I had chosen just what suited him; and he had the grace to wear them, which was a compliment to me. But how they became him! The trunk-hose we
re of white satin worked with silver; he wore a collar of gold, diamond studded, and at his knee was the Garter which had been bestowed on him as soon as he arrived in England.
We took our seats in the two chairs which had been placed at the altar. Gardiner was waiting—with Bonner, the Bishop of London, and the Bishops of Durham, Lincoln, Ely and Chichester.
Before the ceremony began, the Regent of Naples declared to the assembly that his Imperial Master, Charles V, had resigned from his kingdom of Naples that his beloved cousin Queen Mary might marry a king.
Then we were married and when the ceremony was over seated ourselves in the chairs of state while the Mass was celebrated.
EVERY DETAIL OF THAT wonderful day stays with me. My memories comfort me when I am most melancholy. I want to keep that day fresh in my mind, for I was never so happy as I was then.
We went back to the Bishop's palace for a banquet. I do not remember what we ate. Philip and I sat side by side. I took covert glances at him, which was foolish of me because I should have known I would be closely watched and everything I did would be reported later. I did wish that my subjects would not be quite so zealous in stressing the point that I was the Queen of this realm and, important as Philip might be in his own country, here he was merely the Queen's consort. Why did they have to make his chair less fine than mine? Why should he be served from silver plate and I from gold? I was fully aware of the cold looks of the Spaniards as they noticed these details.
But I would not let that spoil my pleasure.
When the toasts and expressions of good will toward us were over, Philip and I drank one to the guests; and after that we went to our presence chamber so that the English and Spanish might mingle. Language presented a problem. There was dancing but the Spanish ways were different from ours. I remembered how my father had distinguished himself as the finest of dancers because he could leap higher than anyone else. The Spaniards walked in stately fashion rather than danced, and we English did not call that dancing. I think they were a little taken aback by our cavorting and pirouetting. I had always been fond of dancing and was able somehow to match my steps to Philip's. I have to admit that, stately though he was, he was no great dancer. But I loved him the more for this failing.
The festivities ended earlier than we had expected because of these differences in our speech and customs, and Philip and I were escorted to our separate apartments, where we dined. Afterward we met at the lodging where we were to spend our wedding night. We were taken there by members of the Council, and when they had conducted us to our bedchamber, they left us.
So we were alone together. I was apprehensive, lest I should not please my husband; if I did not, he did not betray it. Never had I imagined such kindness and courtesy. I was ignorant of the ways of married people and had only shadowy notions of what was expected of me. Philip, I knew, was greatly experienced in these matters. He had been married before, and was already a father. But I was as romantic as a young girl. I had lived with dreams.
I thought a great deal about our first encounter later, when he had gone. I wondered what was in his mind. One would never know with Philip. But I shall always remember his kindness to me, his patience with my ignorance.
And I was able to say to myself on that night: This is love.
WHEN I AWOKE NEXT MORNING, IT WAS TO FIND THAT HE was no longer beside me. There was a great commotion outside the door. My women were talking loudly, protesting.
I rose and went out to them.
Several Spanish gentlemen of Philip's entourage were standing there, being held at bay by my valiant ladies. They were trying to explain that it was a breach of etiquette to call on a lady the morning after her wedding.
I said, “I daresay it is a Spanish custom.” I would ask Philip when I saw him.
I could not imagine where he could be. I wondered if I might ask him what induced him to rise so early. I had hoped to wake and find him beside me. But I did not ask him. One did not ask Philip such things. For all my love for him, I felt there was a barrier between us. But I did discover later that it was a Spanish custom for certain gentlemen to come into the bridal chamber after the wedding night in order to congratulate the married pair.
I was learning that the customs of my husband's Court were very different from ours, but at that time I was amused by the differences and told myself how interesting it would be to learn each other's ways.
I was surprised when I did not see Philip all that day. I was told that he was busy attending to dispatches he had received from his father.
It was my duty to meet the wives of the gentlemen who had accompanied him, and I began with the Duchess of Alva. She was very elegant and rather alarmed me by her stately demeanor. But I was in love with all things Spanish. It was natural that I should be. I had Spanish blood in my veins. I remembered snatches of conversation I had shared with my mother years ago. She had been brought up in a Court which must have been very like that in which Philip had lived. I thought of how happy she would be if she could see me now.
The Duchess and I got on very well after a while. I suppose she was as nervous of me as I was of her. I had gone to meet her, which surprised her because she had expected to find me seated, and she did not know how to greet me. She sank to her knees and tried to kiss my hand, but I put my arms round her and kissed her cheek.
I meant to be warm and friendly but my manner seemed to disconcert her; however, after a while we were able to speak in a friendly fashion together.
It was very difficult to break through the solemnity of the Spanish, and I could see that this was going to be a problem with Philip. I could never be sure what he was thinking. He behaved with courtesy and gentleness toward me, yet he was never abandoned, never passionate. If I had not deluded myself, I could have feared that our marriage, our love-making, was to him a task, a duty which must be performed.
Later I believed this was so, for when he had gone, people talked more freely of him, and I have to admit that whenever possible I urged them to do so. There came a time when I felt a certain masochistic pleasure in torturing myself, when I wanted to learn the truth about my marriage.
Then I reminded myself that I was old and he was comparatively young… that I was to him a kind of maiden aunt.
But for the time being I was blissfully happy.
We left Winchester for London and crossed London Bridge at noon, surrounded by the nobility of Spain and England. We were greeted by the pageantry one grows accustomed to on such occasions; but what pleased the people most, I am sure, were the ninety-seven chests—each over a yard long—which contained the bullion Philip had brought with him.
We came to Whitehall, where celebrations continued. These were, however, cut short by the death of the old Duke of Norfolk. I insisted that the Court go into mourning. Poor Norfolk! The last years of his life had been very melancholy. After narrowly escaping being beheaded by my father, he had been a prisoner all through the last reign; and when I had come to the throne, he had been released but his luck had not changed. He had led an inferior force against Wyatt and had suffered the humiliation of being defeated, which would be heartbreaking for a man of his caliber. So it seemed right to put on mourning for an old friend.
At Windsor the ceremony of the Garter was officially performed, and I was happy to see Philip honored. I wanted to give him so much, which could seem only very little after all the happiness he had brought me.
Susan used to watch my exuberance with a certain fearfulness. I know I behaved like a young girl in love; but, if I was not a young girl, I was certainly in love, and older people's feelings can be so much stronger than those of the young, particularly when happiness comes to them late in life after much tribulation.
I wanted Philip to have a coronation. So did Renard, who came to see me about the matter and to stress what a good thing it would be.
“He would take so much of the burden from your shoulders. You have too much to contend with. You must see that he is given the status here
that he so richly deserves.”
“I would willingly give it,” I said.
“There is nothing I want more. I will speak to the Council.”
I did.
Gardiner said, “The people would never accept it.”
“I am the Queen,” I reminded him. “I intend to rule as my father did.”
“It was different in your father's day. It is not long since people flocked to Wyatt's banner. There is your sister…”
“I know you want to have her…removed… but I will not allow that. She is not concerned with this. I am sure the country would welcome a king to help in governing them.”
“The time has not come…yet,” insisted Gardiner.
It was a sort of compromise. Not yet, he said. He must mean that we should wait awhile.
I had to admit that he was right, for after that first enthusiasm when we had our ceremonies and pageants, which people always enjoy, they began to display their dislike of foreigners in general and Spaniards in particular. It was said that there were more Spaniards than English in the streets of London. “England is for the English,” was their cry. “We want no aliens here.” Those who had come in Philip's train were rich, and that aroused the people's envy. Children called after them in the streets and threw stones at them. Quarrels were picked and there was frequent fighting. The Spaniards began to fear that it was unsafe to go out alone, for they were constantly being robbed.
I was ashamed of my countrymen, but Philip remained calm and as courteous as ever; he would not give up his Spanish household and, as I had provided him with English servants, he kept the two, which must have been a great expense; but as he could not easily dismiss those I had found and would not give up those he had brought, he accepted the cost.
I wished that we could have talked more openly together. I wished I had known what was in his mind. There were constant dispatches arriving from the Emperor. Philip would spend most of the day dealing with them. I saw very little of him except in company, and when we were alone in our bedchamber, very few words were spoken.