Patience, Princess Catherine (18 page)

"Long live King Henry the Eighth!" shouted the people until they must have been hoarse. "Long live Queen Catherine!"

I turned to Lady Margaret Pole, who rode beside me. "I have another favor to ask of you, dear friend," I said.

"Only ask it, my lady."

"Please," I said, "will you teach me to speak English?"

 

The ceremonies went on for many hours. The celebrations that followed would have continued for many days, had it not been for the death of the king's grandmother, the countess of Richmond and Derby, reminding us of the fate that awaits us all.

The months of summer were without doubt the happiest of my life. After years of being kept in seclusion by the will of our fathers, Henry and I gave ourselves up to pleasure. We hunted together, ate and drank together, danced together, and at night retired to our blissful bed.

By the first cool days of autumn, I knew that I was with child. My cup of happiness was overflowing. Henry and I prayed fervently for the birth of a son to become England's next king. That would make our joy complete.

Buckden Towers, Huntingdonshire, England December 1533

 

T
HE POUNDING AT MY DOOR HAS RESUMED.
C
HARLES
Brandon, duke of Suffolk, has returned, shouting more threats to drag me away, promising that worse is yet to come. I refuse to answer him. Elsewhere in the castle a horrific racket is taking place, as though it were under siege, I ignore it. Brandon's men have packed up nearly everything that can be moved—beds, tables, tapestries. From my latticed window I watch as carts and men slink away.

For now, at least, Brandon has given up.

The country folk, assured that I am safe when I wave to them, are slowly returning to their cottages, leaving behind their humble gifts of bread and cheese and preserved meat.

There is much more to my story of the twenty-four years of marriage to King Henry, the great love of my life, a marriage that Henry has declared at an end. I am weary now, and in need of rest. There are others who will continue my story.

I have not relented, and I shall not. I have not submitted, and I shall not. Brandon has given up, but I know that the king has not. I am stubborn not for my own sake, but for the sake of my daughter, Mary, who shall, if there be a just God, one day rule this country as its rightful queen. I sign this

Catherine, the Queen
31 December 1533

C
ATHERINE OF
A
RAGON HAD ENDURED AND WON.
H
ER
next test of endurance and courage was her duty—and desire—to provide Henry and the realm with a male heir.

Catherine's first pregnancy, coming soon after her wedding and coronation, ended before its time in the stillbirth of a daughter. She had barely recovered when she became pregnant once again. On the first of December 1510, she made her formal withdrawal from court. Following detailed instructions laid down years before by the countess of Richmond and Derby for Henry's mother, Elizabeth of York, Catherine remained secluded with her ladies in a darkened chamber hung with tapestries that covered the windows and doors, as well as walls and ceilings.

Soon after midnight on New Year's Day of 1511 she gave birth to a fine, healthy boy. Henry came to her with his eyes shining with love and pride, and all of England celebrated the birth of a prince. But joy was brief. While the royal couple and their court were at Westminster in February, word came from Richmond that the infant had sickened and died. For months Catherine remained withdrawn in a somber state, praying, fasting, and weeping.

This dark time became even darker when Catherine learned that her husband had taken a mistress. Her love for him had grown and deepened during their two years of marriage, and though he showed her great respect, seeking her company and her counsel, it was plain that his ardor had cooled. But Henry continued to visit Catherine's bed in an effort to produce a son. Time after time she conceived; time after time she miscarried or the infant was stillborn. Then, on the eighteenth of February, 1516, in the seventh year of marriage, Catherine delivered a healthy, living child—a daughter. They named her Mary, and though they rejoiced in her birth, Mary could not fill the need for a male heir.

For Catherine, there were no more live births. For Henry, there was a new mistress: Elizabeth Blount. In 1519 she bore him a son whom he named Henry, adding Fitzroy—"the king's son." The humiliation was almost more than Catherine could bear, yet she dutifully attended the celebration at which King Henry presented his bastard child to the court. The infant was provided with a complete household, befitting the son of a king.

Catherine forgave Henry, but she would not forgive him passing over their daughter, Mary, princess of Wales, to give his bastard son a string of royal titles, as though
he
were heir to the throne. When Catherine objected, the king punished her by taking away three of her Spanish ladies-in-waiting.

In the winter of 1521 Catherine again lost a stillborn child and knew this would be her last pregnancy. That was the first time she heard Henry say: "Perhaps it is as the Scriptures said—our marriage is sinful, and we are condemned to die without sons."

 

There were more mistresses, many of them ladies of Catherine's court. Most came and went in a matter of weeks as the king's interest moved restlessly from one to the next, lighting at last upon Mary Boleyn, who was, in time, replaced by her younger sister, Anne Boleyn, a woman of dark looks, biting wit, flirtatious manner, and unequalled ambition.

Anne joined Catherine's court in 1522, when she returned from France and the court of King Francis. Catherine watched their flirtation with as much patience as she could muster. Five years later Henry informed Catherine that their marriage was at an end, and that he intended to divorce her to marry Anne.

"The marriage never was," he said. "Our union was based on a misunderstanding of Scripture. It is an abomination in the sight of God! As a matter of conscience, we must divorce."

For more than six years Catherine continued to insist that she was the king's legal wife, her previous marriage to Arthur was unconsummated, and there were no grounds for divorce. Through Henry's petitions to Rome, his appeals to the intellectuals of Europe, and his attempts to intimidate and humiliate her, Catherine stood firm.

Finally Henry ordered Catherine to leave Greenwich Palace for Richmond. There were subsequent moves, each to a lodging more isolated and uncomfortable than the one before. From these remote places, Queen Catherine learned of the annulment of her marriage, the king's marriage to Anne Boleyn, and Anne's coronation with her great pregnant belly showing beneath her robes. In July of 1533, Henry ordered Catherine to move once more, this time to Buckden. Along the way well-wishers lined the road, cheering and calling out their support. In her more than twenty years as their queen, Catherine had become much beloved of the people, and the outpourings of loyalty and devotion touched her deeply, angering the warders who accompanied her.

Queen Catherine was later moved one last time, from Buckden to Kimbolton Castle, another dank and unhealthful place. There were numerous attempts to frighten her, threatening her and her daughter with martyrdom if she refused to acknowledge Anne Boleyn as rightful queen. Catherine resolved to go to her death willingly, if that was to be her fate.

Catherine's health deteriorated. On January 7, 1536, she died without having yielded to the king's demands that she renounce her title as queen. Some suspected that she might have been subjected to a slow poison, but these suspicions went unproven.

King Henry's marriage to Anne Boleyn produced one child, Elizabeth, and ended with Anne's execution, ordered by the king himself, only five months after Catherine's death. King Henry married four more times before his death on January 28, 1547. He was succeeded as king by Edward, his son by his third wife, Jane Seymour. When Edward died in 1553, Princess Mary, daughter of Catherine of Aragon, was crowned queen.