The Last Days of Henry VIII

by Hutchinson, Robert

  The previous month, Henry cautiously began to pay her court.

  Despite the widow insisting on a seemly period of mourning, the king had decided to pursue her as his sixth wife. She was the ideal candidate. Her personal motto – ‘To be useful in all I do’ – has the ring of a sensible, practical and dutiful Girl Guide captain. After nursing two older men, she was experienced in the ways of the sick room, as well as being gentle and kind. As the childless widow of two dead husbands, there could be no question of unpleasant surprises lurking in her past; indeed, her virtue was one of her proudest and most praised assets.122 Portraits of her show a dignified and graceful matron of some strength of character, with a fashionably pale complexion, tightly brushed-back auburn hair and light-brown eyes. She was slim, around 5 ft. 2 in. tall,123 lively in conversation and, for the time, very well educated. She enjoyed intellectual discussion – and could be very forthright in her views. Some have portrayed her as a kind of sixteenth-century bluestocking; true, Katherine could speak fluent French and Italian and later learnt to both read and write in Latin, but she also loved music and dancing, lavish jewels and expensive, fashionable clothes. She was known to be pious, but not overtly associated with either the religiously conservative or reformist groups still slugging it out brutally for dominance at court. Katherine Latimer, née Parr, Henry concluded, would make the ideal wife and stepmother in his declining years. With the king’s self-belief now restored, he convinced himself it might even be possible that she could bear him a Duke of York, despite the fact that the first flush of youth had long departed her. Finally, there was a political dimension, a factor never lost on the canny Henry: marriage to the daughter of such a powerful and respectable northern family would bring him benefits in that traditionally most troublesome region of his realm. What the king desired, the king would get.

  As a lame and sick man with five unfortunate marriages behind him, Henry resorted to his most powerful asset in pursuing her affections. He used hard cash to woo her, placing an order on 16 February 1543 with his tailor, John Skutt, for a generous package of pleats and sleeves, followed by gowns in the latest Italian, Dutch and Venetian fashions and ‘French hoods’, all valued at a total of £8 9s 5d (just over £3,000 in today’s money). Although grotesquely obese and afflicted with painful and stinking leg wounds, Henry still vainly believed that he knew how to turn a woman’s head.

  He also had patronage to employ as a telling weapon: it can be no coincidence that a string of honours and appointments were pointedly awarded to Katherine’s brother William, Baron Parr of Kendal, at the same time as Henry was courting her, although William had long been a favourite of the king, called ‘his Integrity’ by Henry. In March, he was made a member of the Privy Council124. This was followed by his election in April as a Knight of the Garter and his appointment as Warden of the Scottish Marches, the border territories where he had shone in the latest military campaigns against England’s intractable neighbour.

  The king faced another strong contender for the hand of the rich widow: his brother-in-law by marriage to Jane Seymour, the debonair and roguish Sir Thomas Seymour, who had returned to court that month after eight months based in Vienna, serving as a military observer studying the tactics and weaponry employed in the wars against the Turks. Katherine had fallen heavily for his piratical good looks, his renown as a courageous soldier and his courtly manners and dress. Her head had been turned by his glamour, dash and derring-do; her prim heart excited, after a dull life with two sick husbands, by his wild reputation. She was not even deterred by his notorious bad temper. Henry, however, was apparently aware of their developing relationship. In order not to be outdone and to ensure that the way remained clear for an acceptance of his proposal of marriage, he appointed Sir Thomas, within two weeks of his return, special ambassador to the queen regent in Brussels.

  Katherine was clearly deeply in love with Seymour. Four years later, in a letter, she admitted to him:

  For as truly as God is God, my mind was fully bent the other time I was at liberty, to marry you before any man I know. Howbeit, God withstood my will … most vehemently for a time and through His grace and goodness made that possible which seems to me most impossible; that was, made me to renounce utterly my own will and to follow His will most willingly.125

  Perhaps Katherine weighed up how long the king had to live and realistically calculated that if Seymour would be patient, their love might not have to wait many years before being sanctified by marriage. Henry, for his part, cunningly made it his business to see that Sir Thomas was almost continuously out of the country during the remaining years of his reign. Seymour later served under Sir John Wallop in the English military operations in the Low Countries, and at sea with the fleet under John Dudley, Viscount Lisle who was appointed Lord High Admiral in 1542.

  Lisle wrote to William, Lord Parr, on 20 June 1543 that after Henry had inspected two new havens at Harwich, he returned to London, where ‘none but my lady Latimer, your sister, and Mrs Herbert be both here in the Court’ with Princesses Mary and Elizabeth.126

  Henry was certainly in a hurry to marry his widow woman. Cranmer issued a special licence in Latin on 10 July at Lambeth Palace, authorising the marriage to take place between Henry and ‘Lady Katherine Latimer, late wife of Lord Latimer, deceased’127 without the need for banns being said in any church, oratory or chapel. No time was wasted in arranging the king’s sixth wedding. And this was not to be a hole-in-the-corner, secret ceremony, like those to Anne Boleyn, Jane Seymour and Katherine Howard.

  The wedding, held two days later, was – unusually for Henry – a family affair. Crammed into an upper oratory – ‘the Queen’s privy closet’ – within Hampton Court were Prince Edward, Princesses Mary and Elizabeth and the king’s niece Lady Margaret Douglas (who carried Katherine’s train), as well as a bevy of twenty senior and close courtiers and their wives. Of those attending, only John, Lord Russell, now Lord Privy Seal, and Sir Anthony Browne, Captain of the King’s Pensioners,128 were members of the religiously conservative faction at court. The others were firmly in the reformers’ camp.

  Gardiner conducted the marriage in English, putting the statutory questions to the couple. Henry impatiently answered each with a loud ‘Yea’ and, taking Katherine’s right hand in his, repeated after the bishop:

  I, Henry, take thee, Katherine, to my wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, till death us depart, and thereto, I plight thee my troth.

  Katherine then said her vows, adding after ‘sickness and in health’:

  to be bonair129 and buxom in bed and at board, till death us depart, and thereto I plight thee my troth.130

  With that, the wedding ring was slipped on to her finger and gifts of gold and silver proffered. After Gardiner blessed the marriage, Henry commanded his notary, Richard Watkins, to make the promises public.

  Strangely, history had repeated itself. It was like the king’s first marriage all over again. In both cases, the bride had declared for a close relative – Henry’s elder brother Arthur in the case of Catherine of Aragon, and the king’s brother-in-law – Thomas Seymour – in the case of Katherine Parr. The Christian name of the king’s bride was the same in both cases. Psychologists have read much into this, claiming that Henry had an unconscious desire for an incestuous union.131 Whatever his motives, the marriage turned out a happy one despite a very bumpy patch in 1546, as we shall see later.

  Edmond Harvel, the English ambassador to Venice, rejoiced in a letter to Russell at the king’s marriage to ‘so prudent, beautiful and virtuous a lady, as is by universal fame reported’. The Venetian government had declared ‘no mean congratulations on this marriage’, he added.132

  Chapuys reported the royal wedding to the crown prince of Spain and described Katherine as possibly being ‘about thirty-two years of age. May God be pleased that this marriage turn out well and that the king’s favour and affection for the pr
incess [Mary] continue to increase’.133

  The plague was meanwhile raging in London, and a proclamation was issued on 15 July from Hampton Court forbidding Londoners from entering any house occupied by the king and queen, and banning any servant of the household from visiting the capital.134 The court then beat a hasty retreat a few miles further west to the manor of Otelands. From there, on 20 July, the new queen, writing to her brother, talked of the marriage being ‘the greatest joy and comfort that could happen’ to her. She prayed that he would write and visit her ‘as frequently as if she had not been called to this honour’. The letter was enclosed in another to Lord Parr by Wriothesley, who told him rather prissily that he should frame himself to be ‘more and more an ornament to her majesty’.135

  The royal party then embarked on the traditional summer progress through the Home Counties – Buckinghamshire, Bedfordshire and Hertfordshire. It was just another honeymoon for Henry, but the first taste of royal rank and privilege for Katherine.

  Anne of Cleves’ prominent nose was put out of joint by the marriage. On 27 July, Chapuys wrote to the queen of Hungary that he had heard ‘from an authentic quarter’ that Anne

  would greatly prefer giving up everything that she has … to remaining any longer in England, treated as she is and humiliated and hurt as she has lately been at the King marrying this last lady, who is by no means so handsome as she herself is.

  Besides which there is no hope of her [Katherine] having children, considering that she has been twice a widow and has borne none from either of her deceased husbands.136

  Anne’s reported comments are full of childish pique. ‘A fine burden Madam Katherine has taken upon herself!’ she is supposed to have remarked acidly, for she was marrying a king ‘so stout, that such a man has never been seen’. Moreover, ‘three of the biggest men that could be found could get inside his doublet’.137 Perhaps her situation should excuse her outbursts. Her beloved mother had died and she was trapped, bereft of any man’s affection, in a foreign country. She was locked out of the glittering society of the royal court, now presided over by yet another of Henry’s wives. She could only watch from the sidelines, albeit very comfortable sidelines. Who could begrudge her the outpourings of a little jealousy? All her plans to return to the limelight of society had failed. The Duke of Cleves’ ambassador, whom Henry’s Council suspected was merely Anne’s agent, had been living meanly in a room above a tavern with one manservant and had been called to court twice or three times in the early part of 1543, probably on business connected with the discarded queen. All came to naught, however, and although Chapuys tried hard to obtain an exit passport for him, he remained stranded in London: ‘The poor devil … must very much wish to get out of this country for he does nothing here and gets no assistance in money.’138

  Katherine now began to enjoy life as a queen. She had a pet dog, a small spaniel named ‘Rig’ that wore a collar of crimson velvet embroidered with gold.139 Henry showered jewels upon her. The inventory of her jewels taken after the king’s death includes several very personal bespoke items:

  A brooch containing the image of king Henry the eight with the queen’s image, a crown of diamonds over them and a rose of diamonds under them …140

  A tablet the one side with ‘H’ and ‘K’ a rose and G[arter] all of diamonds with ostrich feathers and five small rubies and on the other side, a fair diamond holden by an image with four other diamonds.141

  A tablet of gold having on the one side the king’s picture painted and on the same side is a rose … containing therein five diamonds and six rubies. On the border thereof is five very small diamonds and one ruby in the top and another underneath and in the border … four very small diamonds. On the other side is two men lifting of a stone, being a diamond, containing on that side twenty-two diamonds, two rubies and a fair emerald.142

  More than 120 items are listed, contained in a coffer ‘having written upon it “the Queen’s Jewels”’,143 held in the king’s jewel house in the Tower.

  For all the splendour and new riches around her, Katherine did not forget her duties as stepmother to the royal children: already she was being reported as behaving ‘very affectionately’ towards Princess Mary. Nor did she forget her other responsibilities: some of the first articles ordered after her marriage were eleven yards ‘of black damask for a nightgown’ and ‘for making a nightgown of black satin with two burgundian gardes [sleeves] embroidered and edged with velvet’.144 On 13 July she ordered perfume for her bedchamber at Hampton Court from the court apothecary, although this may prosaically have had more to do with the smell from the kitchens positioned beneath her room than with the wiles of an affaire de coeur. Katherine knew well how to handle elderly husbands and was not going to make the same mistakes as poor Anne of Cleves.

  CHAPTER TWO

  God’s Imp

  ‘I shall, during my life, while I am here, pray to Almighty God that … [the] most noble imp,1 the prince’s grace, your most dear son, may succeed you to reign long, prosperously and felicitously to God’s pleasure …’

  LETTER FROM THOMAS CROMWELL, IMPRISONED IN THE TOWER OF LONDON, TO HENRY VIII, 30 JUNE 1540.2

  In 1542, one of Prince Edward’s doctors told the inquisitive French ambassador Marillac that he could not predict a long life for the four-year-old ‘fat’ and ‘unhealthy’ heir to the English crown.3 Such remarks have helped to create a persistent tradition that the child was weak, sickly and prone to constant infection. If any sickness was in the offing, it was believed that Edward would catch it.4 In reality, this seems far from the truth: only seven months before, the same diplomat had reported Edward to be ‘handsome, well-nourished and remarkably tall for his age’5 and from the end of October 1541, the prince was recovering from a quartan fever6 – suffering high temperatures every fourth day – far more quickly than his elder half-sister Mary.7 Edward became an active youth, enthusiastically hunting, jousting, playing tennis and regularly trying his hand at archery.

  However, his fever of 1541 – by any reckoning dangerous to a child of tender years – came at a terrible time for the ageing king, struggling as he was to contain his shock and grief over the allegations of promiscuity and, afterwards, reckless adultery committed by his queen, Katherine Howard. Was the heir to both the crown and the future of the Tudor dynasty now also threatened? Henry, in those terrible weeks, must have thought his once ordered, secure world was tumbling all around him. All the uncertainties of both past and future had returned to haunt the king’s waking hours. For ten days or so, the prince’s life may have been in danger, and Henry desperately consulted a number of doctors regarding suitable cures.8 But to the relief of the king and his physicians, Edward recovered and grew strongly into a slim, confident, attractive child, adorned with blond hair and the waiflike facial features of his mother, Jane Seymour.

  His birth on 12 October 1537 was marked by salutes fired from cannon along the battlements of the Tower of London: more than 2,000 rounds boomed out in ‘a great peal of guns’ to mark the jubilation of the capital and ‘the rejoicing of all Englishmen’ in the arrival of the long-sought male heir. All the parish churches within the city walls celebrated a Te Deum and their bells rang out in celebration until late into the evening. The citizens rejoiced in more secular style with celebratory bonfires in the streets and the consumption of large quantities of fruit and wine.9

  The child’s christening, at midnight on Sunday 15 October 1537, was a spectacular affair staged in the Chapel Royal at Hampton Court. Gertrude Courtenay, Marchioness of Exeter,10 carefully carried the infant on a cushion from his own lodgings in the palace, beneath a canopy of cloth of gold, in a winding procession through the echoing council chamber, the great hall and thence into the recently (and expensively) refurbished chapel. Henry’s complex preparations for the ceremony were made with one eye on practicality, the other on the all-important pomp and circumstance of the occasion.11 Within the chapel, a silver-gilt font was elevated on a stepped dais within a screen
ed area, with a temporary side-room to the south heated by a brazier filled with perfumed [char]coals ‘for making ready the Prince [for] the christening’. Silver basins held warm water to ‘wash the Prince if need be’.12 Favoured courtiers Sir John Russell, Sir Francis Bryan, Sir Nicholas Carew and Sir Anthony Browne, prosaically wearing aprons and carrying towels, took charge of the font. Edward’s nurse and the midwife who had delivered him after Queen Jane’s drawn-out confinement were also close by, ready to provide instant assistance if necessary.

  Archbishop Cranmer christened the prince, who was wrapped in a richly embroidered white ‘chrisom’ or robe.13 Henry’s choice of Christian name was highly symbolic: the child was named Edward after his maternal great-grandfather, King Edward IV, and also because his birth came on the eve of the feast of St Edward the Confessor, England’s own royal saint of special pious and sacred memory. At the moment of naming, the torches of virgin wax carried by all the esquires, gentlemen and knights amongst the 400-strong congregation14 standing packed in the chapel were simultaneously lit. Garter King at Arms, the chief herald, then proclaimed in a loud voice:

  God, of his infinite grace and goodness, give and grant good life and long to the right high, excellent and noble prince, Prince Edward, duke of Cornwall and earl of Chester, most dear and most entirely beloved son to our most dread and gracious lord, King Henry VIII.15

  Then twenty-four of the king’s trumpeters sounded a strident fanfare that echoed around the fan-vaulted ceiling of oak timbers, completed the previous year and now resplendent with bright blue paint and gleaming gold leaf.