by David Loades
88
T U D O R Q U E E N S O F E N G L A N D
soon called for reinforcements. She did not trust her nominal colleague in the embassy, the long serving but by now somewhat ineffectual Dr De Puebla, and asked her father to send a suitable nobleman as her colleague.
3 As his interests would be directly threatened by the proposed marriage, he responded swiftly and Don Guitierre Gomez de Fuensalida reached England on 22 February 1508. Fuensalida was inexperienced and inept, but he was disposed to listen to Catherine, who in turn had learned from the much-despised De Puebla. 4 It was probably as much the result of Henry’s deteriorating health as of the diplomatic efforts of the Spaniards, but the marriage never happened, and when the King died on 21 April 1509, she found herself facing a completely different situation. During the lean years between 1502 and 1507, when she had had nothing to do and very little money, and while her remaining Spanish servants drifted away or got married, Catherine had consoled herself with pious exercises. She had also convinced herself that it was the will of God that she should marry Prince Henry. This conviction reconciled her to staying in England and survived his formal repudiation of the agreement in 1505. Indeed the latter was a diplomatic chess move and the young Prince’s true feelings are unknown. The very next year he was referring to her as his ‘most dear and well beloved consort, the princess my wife …’ but that may also have been a diplomatic move intended to press Maximilian. When Henry VIII came to the throne his relations with his sisterin-law can only be deduced. They must have known each other well by sight and that may have been suffi cient to establish a mutual attraction. At almost 18, Henry was a magnifi cent specimen, with his maternal grandfather’s imposing physique – already head and shoulders taller than most of his servants. At this stage of her life Catherine was apparently slender and petite, auburn haired and pretty – if Michael Sittow’s portrait is to be trusted. Whether, however, they had had any opportunity to become familiar with each other, we do not know. According to Fuensalida (who was not the sharpest of observers) the young Prince had been carefully chaperoned right up to the moment of his accession and kept busy with his books and physical exercises. At the same time Catherine lived at court after her allocation of Durham House was withdrawn in November 1505 and her ambassadorial duties required frequent attendance. It is certainly true that Henry’s father gave him no formal duties or responsibilities, beyond his purely notional responsibilities as Prince of Wales, but his virtual seclusion is unlikely. Unlike his brother at a similar age, he seems never to have visited the Marches, let alone lived there. 5 Nevertheless the speed and effectiveness with which he seized the reins of government in May 1509 appears to give the lie to Fuensalida’s description of a boy brought up ‘almost like a young damsel’. Years later, and in very different
T H E Q U E E N A S F O R E I G N A L LY
89
circumstances, the chronicler Edward Hall attributed his actions to the initiative of the council that he had inherited from his father, and whereas that may have been true in respect of his rapid moves against the unpopular Richard Empson and Edmund Dudley, it is unlikely to have been true of his marriage. Hall wrote:
‘… the king was moved by some of his council that it should be honourable and profi table to his realm to take to wife the Lady Katherine, late wife to his brother Prince Arthur deceased …’
6 In fact his council seems to have been taken by surprise. Henry himself later claimed that he had been piously acting in accordance with his father’s dying wish, but on 27 April, fi ve days after the old king’s death, the Council was unaware of any such instruction. On that day they assured Fuensalida that their master was completely uncommitted, and even added that he would be unlikely to consider his sister-in-law because of scruples ov
er the dispensation.7 Then, a few days later, the ambassador was summoned back, and began his interview with a defensive speech, retailing all the diffi culties in Anglo-Spanish relations. Ferdinand had delayed giving his consent to the proposed marriage between his grandson Charles and the King’s sister Mary and he had dallied interminably about paying the balance of Catherine’s original dowry. At that point Henry, who had been waiting impatiently in an adjoining room, interrupted the proceedings with a message. What he wanted, he declared, was a triple alliance between himself, the Emperor and Ferdinand to curb the ambitions of France, and to that end he intended to marry Catherine forthwith. 8 All the wearying diffi culties about the dowry, about Mary’s betrothal and about Catherine’s status, were simply swept aside. Fuensalida’s erstwhile colleague was about to become Queen and his main duty now was to facilitate that as quickly as possible. The Princess was understandably jubilant. Through all the slights to which she had been subjected and all the diffi culties of being a female ambassador linked to a man who turned out to be an arrogant and foolish colleague, her faith in ultimate success had never wavered. Only at the very end, in March 1509, had she apparently given way to a brief fi t of despair. Now she was vindicated and being the pious soul that she was she attributed the entire astonishing reversal to God. He had heard and answered her pleas as only He could do, turning the King’s heart, which (like that of all princes and governors) was in His hand alone. The events of these dramatic days between April and June of 1509 made an indelible impression upon her mind. Henry and Catherine were married on 11 June in the Franciscan church at Greenwich and crowned together at Westminster on midsummer’s day.
9 This was unprecedented. Richard II, Henry V, Henry VI, Edward IV and Henry VII had all been unmarried at the time of their accessions but Richard and Henry VI had 90
T U D O R Q U E E N S O F E N G L A N D
succeeded as minors and all their respective Queens had been crowned separately. Only in the case of Henry VIII did marriage intervene between accession and coronation in a way that made this unique event possible. Despite the fact that the King’s Council remained largely unchanged, the atmosphere of the court was transformed. Archbishop Warham remained as Chancellor, Richard Fox, Bishop of Winchester, remained Lord Privy Seal and the Earl of Surrey remained Treasurer, but there was a new king and that was what mattered. The fact that Henry was lavishly praised by humanist scholars on the look out for patronage is less important than the general contemporary evidence of how full of life and joy the royal couple were at this point. Their coronation was celebrated with a magnifi cent tournament, featuring the Knights of Pallas and the Knights of Diana, who symbolized that odd mixture of Italian humanism and Burgundian chivalry that was Henry’s distinctive trademark. There had been no such tournament in England since the high days of Edward IV. Although he had had no enthusiasm for these sports himself, Henry VII had made sure that his son had been instructed by the very best masters-at-arms and, at the time of his accession, Henry VIII had the reputation of being the fi nest jouster in the land. This may not have been entirely deserved, but he was certainly very profi cient, and for the next twenty years his enthusiasm for the sport was inexhaustible. On many subsequent occasions he was to enter the lists in person, but not this time. Jousting was a dangerous sport, even for the most accomplished and he was probably persuaded that the last thing England needed at such an auspicious juncture was for any misfortune to befall him. Instead he did honour to his mistress with ‘noble triumphs and goodly shows’, which featured the Queen’s symbol of the pomegranate ‘gilded with fi ne gold’ in every conceivable place. The joy of these days was somewhat tempered by the death at the end of June of the King’s grandmother, Margaret Beaufort, ‘a woman of singular wisdom and policy, and also of most virtuous life’ as the chro
nicler put it.10 She had, however, died full of years and honours and although her obsequies were fully observed there is no sign that the King mourned unduly. He was too full of the opportunities of his own sunrise. Catherine was equally happy. ‘These kingdoms … are in great peace, and entertain much love to the king my lord and to me. Our time is spent in continual festival’, she wrote to her fath
er, who was as surprised and gratifi ed as anyone by what had happened. For the time being Henry was behaving like the overgrown schoolboy that he was. He would burst in on Catherine and her ladies at unseasonable hours and in all sorts of elaborate disguises, expecting her to be endlessly diverted and amused. She responded to this exuberance with tolerance and good humour and all the evidence suggests that at this time their relationship was both warm and loving.
T H E Q U E E N A S F O R E I G N A L LY
91
They had, after all, much in common. Their intellectual tastes and educational background were very similar, allowing for the gender differences of the time. Both loved fi nery and display, both rode well and hunted with enthusiasm. Catherine took great pains with her physical appearance and was punctiliously deferential to her Lord in public – and probably in private too. He was, after all, worthy of her respect. He was not only an effective and conscientious king, he was also an intelligent man, with a splendid body. What more could any girl want?
It is probable that her piety was both deeper and more heartfelt than his – he was always inclined to be rather intellectual in his faith – but the deep fl aws of personality that the strains of life were subsequently to make only too clear were not obvious in the Henry of 1509. Meanwhile, Catherine was far more than a bedfellow. Her credentials as an ambassador had, of course, come to an end with the old king’s death and had not been renewed in the new circumstances but her function continued. It is unlikely that Henry needed any prompting in the direction of alliance with Ferdinand, or war with France, but if he did, Catherine provided it. Her political experience was far greater than his and her intelligence just as sharp. Added to which the King was at ease in her company – far more so than with leading councillors such as William Warham or Sir Henry Marney. How much Catherine may have known of the domestic affairs of England is uncertain. Her knowledge of the language had come on by leaps and bounds since she was accredited as ambassador and now as Queen she was no longer inclined to seek the companionship of Spanish-speaking familiars. Instead she showed an unobtrusive but effective capacity for friendship and quietly rebuilt the good will of some aristocratic families, which the old king had treated with indifference or hostility – the Duke of Clarence’s widowed daughter, Margaret Pole being a good case in point.
The nature of her sexual relationship with her husband can only be deduced from circumstantial evidence. The chances are that both were virgins when they married and although that would not be surprising in the case of a well brought-up royal princess – even if she was 24 – it would have been unusual for such a vigorous specimen of young manhood as Henry. However his name had never been linked with any woman, even in the most salacious gossip, and it seems that in that respect at least, Fuensalida was right. When it came to the test, it seems likely that Henry’s sexual performance never had the stallion-like qualities that he liked to pretend and that it was left to his equally inexperienced but perhaps more worldly wise wife to coax him into action. If that was the case, she succeeded very well, because she conceived within weeks of her wedding – a circumstance that seems to have given her husband rather more confi dence than he deserved. Catherine’s pregnancy was part of the general euphoria of the court 92
T U D O R Q U E E N S O F E N G L A N D
in the autumn of 1509. There were further jousts and this time Henry wore her favour in the lists and laid his trophies at her feet. Then there was a hitch, which looks more ominous with hindsight than it did at the time. In January 1510
the Queen was delivered of a child – only instead of the healthy son that her mother-in-law had managed in similar circumstances, this child was a girl, born prematurely and dead. In Spain, Ferdinand heard the news at the same time that he learned that his daughter’s other great project – the Anglo-Spanish treaty of alliance, was sig
ned and sealed.11 The royal couple shrugged off the misfortune of the still-birth. These things happened. They were both young and, more importantly, had proved their fertility. Within a few weeks, as the diplomatic preliminaries to war with France continued to build, Catherine conceived again. For the time being, at least, there was nothing wrong with their sexual relationship – and the Queen was certainly a trier. This time her pregnancy ran its full course and on New Year’s day, 1511, she was delivered of a son. The whole country exploded with joy. The prince was named Henry, and baptized with great magnifi cence. The King, with what everyone thought was a proper sense of priorities, made a pilgrimage to Walsingham to give thanks for the birth of his heir, before turning his attention to more secular festivities. When celebrating, the King’s mind was nothing if not conventional. A great tournament and feast was decreed, and Henry appeared in the guise of ‘Coeur loyale’ to win the chief prize (of course) and lay it at Catherine’s feet.
12 It is to be hoped that she, recently convalescent and newly churched, was suitably impressed. Their joy, however, and that of the country, was shortlived, because on 22 February the young Prince died in his magnifi cent cradle at Richmond. We have no idea what killed him. There was no recorded birth defect and the modern suspicion would be an infection of some kind but at the time it was seen as a judgement of God. Modern research suggests that something like 40 per cent of aristocratic children who were born alive failed to survive their fi rst year but without the benefi t of such knowledge, Henry and Catherine were devastated. If it was a judgement – who was being judged?13 In the event of a miscarriage or still birth it was customary to blame the woman but this was neither and the Queen’s life was conspicuously blameless. Could it be Henry himself who was under the cross and, if so, why? Catherine spent agonized hours in prayer, seeking for a solution. The King, more resilient or less introspective, after a brief agony of self-pity, turned his attention to other things. In May he sent an expeditionary force of 1,000 archers under Lord Darcy to assist Ferdinand against the Moors. The result was a fi asco because the King of Spain changed his mind and sent them home again. Henry would probably have been a good deal more chagrined than he was if he had not been at the same time engaged
T H E Q U E E N A S F O R E I G N A L LY
93
in joining the Holy League, with Ferdinand and the Pope, which gave him the perfect pretext for the war that he was seeking against France. He shrugged off his disappointment over Darcy’s dismissal and began to prepare for a much larger expedition in 1512, which was to form part of an Anglo-Spanish attack on Aquitaine, designed (in Henry’s eyes at least) to recover England’s ‘ancient right’
to Gascony, which had been lost 60 years before.
14 So Henry had got his war but success continued to elude him. The Marquis of Dorset duly arrived at Fuentarrabia in June 1512 to fi nd none of the support services promised by Ferdinand in place and he was stranded without supplies and with no agreed plan of campaign. Meanwhile the Spaniards used his presence as a cover for the seizure of Navarre. After several weeks of inaction, the English force became mutinous and taking advantage of an illness that had laid low their commander the offi cers hired ships and returned to England. Henry was furious and Ferdinand self-righteous. ‘The King of Aragon was sore discontent with their departing, for they spent much money and substance in his country, and said openly that if they had tarried he would have invaded G
uienne …’15 Whether there was any truth in this protestation we do not know but the King of England certainly felt betrayed. He was too deeply committed to the war to back out but he lost his appetite for combined operations in the south. Instead he turned his attentions to Picardy and his target for the campaign of 1513
became the city and fortress of Tournai. Whether his suspicious relationship with Ferdinand had any affect upon his marriage is hard to tell. According to rumours picked up by Don Luis Caroz, now the Spanish ambassador in London, Henry was casting lustful eyes upon Anne Hastings and Elizabeth Ratcliffe, two married sisters of the Duke of Buckingham. From the same source we learn that this led to a furious spat wi
th the Duke and to the dismissal of Elizabeth from the Queen’s service. As the lady was a favourite of Catherine’s, this in turn led to a domestic quarrel of some ferocity
.16 Caroz, however, was not particularly close to the Court and the Queen kept him at an arms length. She might no longer be offi cially ambassador but no one was going to usurp her position when it came to mediating between her father and her husband. The rumours probably arose not from any actual infi delity on Henry’s part but from his enthusiasm for a kind of charade known as ‘courtly love’. This was a game played by bored courtiers wherein a man would chose a ‘mistress’ from among the available ladies, would bombard her with trivial gifts and amorous verses and profess his undying devotion. She would then respond as the mood took her, with coy encouragement or furious disdain – usually the latter. This game could go through several rounds, and the ‘winners’ were those who kept up the pretence longest and most convincingly – particularly the ones who produced 94