In the Shadow of the Crown (6 page)

“The cloth workers of the eastern counties,” I said, “and now in London.”

She was astonished.

She said, “I forget how you grow up. You are too old for your years. I suppose you should know these things.” She hesitated and then seemed to come to a decision. “Yes,” she went on. “There has been trouble. It is the new tax. It was crippling to the manufacturers who could not pay their workers. It was for the war against France. The King and the Cardinal saw that it would be unwise to have trouble at home. So the tax was withheld and the people paid just what they liked.”

“Was that enough?”

“Well…yes…as it turned out, because there was not to be a war in France after all.”

“But was not my father fighting with the Emperor against France?”

“My dear Princess, at one time that was so, but relations between countries…politics… they change so quickly. An enemy of one day is a friend the next.”

“How can that be?”

She was silent for a while, then she said, “A ruler has to consider what is best for his country.”

“But the Emperor is a good ruler and so is the King, my father, but the King of France…he is wicked.”

“Dearest Princess, it may be that one day you will be a ruler.”

I caught my breath.

“Well,” she went on, “you are the King's only child.”

“But not a son.”

“You are the next in line. I have always thought you should learn more of affairs of state. Latin and Greek are all very well… but they are not going to help you rule a country.” She seemed to come to a decision. “I think you should know that at the moment relations between your father and the Emperor are…a little strained.”

“You mean they are not good friends?”

“Heads of state are not really good friends in the sense we think of in our ordinary relationships. If what is good for one's country is good for another, then those rulers are friends. If not… they are enemies.”

“But the King of France has no right to his crown. France belongs to us.”

“The King of France could say we have never had a right to it. It is just a matter of the way one looks at these things.”

“But right must be right and wrong wrong.”

“My dear Princess, you are very clever, but you are young and no matter how clever the young are, they lack experience. You will remember that not
long ago we were friends with the French. You remember the meeting at Guisnes and Ardres?”

“The Field of the Cloth of Gold!”

“Ah, I see you do.”

“But they deceived us. All the time they were pretending.”

“Perhaps everyone was pretending. However, that could be treasonable talk, so let us avoid it and not concern ourselves with who was dissimulating. It is past and it is the future we have to think of. The King of France is the prisoner of the Emperor Charles, and the Emperor is in a strong position. He no longer needs the help of England as he once did. I have to tell you something which may be a shock to you. Of course, you have met the Emperor only once.”

“It was enough to tell me that I loved him.”

“Dear Princess, you know nothing of love … not the sort of love between a man and his wife. Your mother loves you dearly; so does your father; so do I and Margaret Bryan. Many people love you. We want everything that is good for you. It is different with the Emperor.”

“What do you mean? He is going to be my husband.”

The Countess shook her head. “You see, my dearest Princess, these marriages are arranged in accordance with what is best for the country. The Emperor and your father wanted to make an alliance against France; he was unmarried, and the King has a daughter—you. But you must realize that the disparity in your ages did make your marriage rather a remote possibility.”

“Do you mean that the Emperor doesn't want to marry me anymore?”

She was silent and I felt blank with dismay.

Then she went on, “It has not gone as far as that. Oh, I shall tell you, for I think you should know. I, who am here in your household, know you better than anyone perhaps. You are older than your years and I do not believe you should be deluded any longer.”

“Please tell me, Countess.”

“It may be something of a shock. You see, you did not really know the Emperor. People have told you that he is a hero … the greatest match in Christendom. They have represented him as benevolent and powerful. Powerful he undoubtedly is, but he is first of all a ruler. Through his father and his mother he inherited great territories. A ruler has first of all to think what is best for his country.”

“What are you trying to tell me, Countess? That I am not good for his country?”

“He no longer needs your father. He has the King of France in his hands. No ruler wants to impoverish his country in useless wars. The Emperor, it seems, is not one who wants glory for showy conquests; he wants to
bring prosperity and power to his dominions. He no longer needs your father's help.”

“So you mean that it was solely because he wanted that, that he became betrothed to me?”

“That is how royal marriages are made. In fact, the marriages of most of us come about because of the advantages they can bring to our families, and with the sons and daughters of kings it is for the good of the country.”

“You mean that he really did not love me. But I…”

“No, Princess, you did not love him. You did not know him. You were told you loved him. You thought it was love, as in those romances which Vives forbade you to read. Perhaps he was right, for they gave you idealistic ideas which are not always true to life.”

“What has happened? Please tell me, Countess.”

“The Emperor is considering marrying Isabel of Portugal.”

“But how can he do that?”

“With the greatest of ease. He has asked your father to send you to Spain immediately, with your dowry of 400,000 ducats, and he wants an undertaking from your father to contribute half of the expenses of the war with France. Those are his terms. He knows they are ones which your father cannot fulfill for he could not raise the money without plunging this country into disorder.”

“So that means…”

“It means that the Emperor is hinting that the agreement with your father is coming to an end.”

“So it was not I whom he loved…”

“Little Princess, it never was. We do not live in a dream world where gallant knights in shining armor die for their ladies. It is a harsh world, and the realities are quite different. There is love. You have mine. I would do anything I could for your happiness; and you know how dear you are to your mother. But we live close to you. We know you. You are a living human being to us. You are not a counter in a game to be moved this way or that. You are our own dear Princess whom we love. That is the love to seek and cherish; and perhaps, in time, when a husband is found for you, you will grow together and love each other in due course. It happens again and again.

“I was eighteen years old when I married. It is a good age to marry, for although one is young, one has had time to glean some experience. My husband was chosen for me.” Her eyes were reminiscent, as she went on, “He was Sir Richard Pole and owned lands in Buckinghamshire. The King, your grandfather, approved of the match and he made him a Squire of the Body and a Knight of the Garter. He served the King faithfully. He distinguished himself in the Perkin Warbeck revolt and he fought well for the King in
Scotland. Then he went to Wales as a Gentleman of the Bedchamber to Prince Arthur, who, as you know, was married to your mother before she married the King.”

“Yes, I know,” I said, “but it was no real marriage. He was too young and sick.”

She nodded. “My husband and I were married for nearly fourteen years and then he died.”

“You must have been very sad.”

“Yes… but I had my children. You see, there are compensations. They made it all worth while. We had five children: Henry, Arthur, Reginald, Geoffry and Ursula.”

“My mother must envy you. She is sad because she has only one.”

“But that one is more precious to her because she is the only one.”

“But all yours are precious to you. I know by the way you speak of them…particularly Reginald.”

“Parents should not have a favorite.”

“But they do… and yours is Reginald.”

She smiled at me. “So you see, my dear, you must not grieve. You must look for happiness. You must accept your lot, and if the marriage with the Emperor does not take place, after all, you will say to yourself, perhaps it was for the best.”

“I cannot forget him as easily as that.”

“Dear child, you did not know him. You have built up a picture of him. You are so young. You know nothing of these matters.”

“Because no one tells me.”

She was silent for a while. Then she said, “Perhaps I have talked too much. Your mother is very unhappy at this time.”

“She wanted so much for me to marry the Emperor because he is half Spanish and her nephew.”

“Yes. You should wait until she talks to you of these matters. She has much on her mind. When she is with you, you must try to distract her from her melancholy. Do not let her see that you are affected because this marriage with the Emperor is not to take place.”

I nodded gravely. She took my hand and kissed it.

“You are a good child,” she said and there were tears in her eyes. “I hope and pray that all goes well with you. It has been my great privilege to serve in your household, and you will always be as my own to me.”

I kissed her tenderly. I loved her very much and I could see how anxious she was, fearing that she had said too much. What she had said could have been construed as treason. Since her brother, Edward, Earl of Warwick, had been murdered on the orders of my grandfather, Henry VII, for no other reason
than that he was a Plantagenet with a claim to the throne, the Countess had lived under the shadow of the axe, for it could descend upon her if she were to utter one careless word which could be construed as treason.

She had taken certain risks in talking to me so frankly, and I knew that it was because of her love for me that she had done so. She had realized that certain events could not be kept from me much longer and she wanted to prepare me for them.

I was desolate. I told myself that I should be heartbroken if it really came to pass that the Emperor jilted me.

NOW THAT THE COUNTESS had spoken to me more frankly than ever before, the ice was broken and she was less restrained than she had been hitherto. She must have felt that, having gone so far, there was no point in holding anything back which it would soon be impossible to keep from me for long.

But I was still in the dark regarding the really great trouble which was to make such a difference to both my mother and me and which was to cast a dark shadow over our lives. I thought at the time that my mother's tragic looks were due solely to the fact that she was upset because of the strained relationship between my father and the Emperor, but I soon learned this was not so.

An event took place in June of that year which I found irritating, though little did I understand its significance at that time.

I had always been aware of the existence of Henry Fitzroy and what a trial he was to my mother because he was a continual reproach to her.
She
could not give the King a son but another woman could, which pointed to the conclusion that the fault lay with the Queen.

Henry Fitzroy had been born in June six years before, and to celebrate his birthday there was a very grand ceremony, and on that day he was made a Knight of the Garter.

To bestow such an honor on one so young seemed in itself ridiculous but the King was anxious to show his feelings for his son, and at this time— though I learned this later—he was calling attention to the sorry plight in which he and the nation had been placed by his marriage to a woman who could not bear a son.

I did not see my mother at this time. Even my father would not expect her to be present at such a ceremony, for he must have realized how painful it would be to her. It was an indication of his resentment that he had allowed it to take place. Later I saw how every act of his at this time was working toward one end.

This ceremony concerned me too. I was the heir to the throne. What did
the King mean by bestowing such an honor on his bastard? It must have occurred to many that he intended to set the boy above me. It would never be tolerated. The people of England would not have a bastard on the throne.

Being but nine years old, and only just made aware of the perfidy of rulers, I could not grasp the significance of these events; but at the same time I was aware of disaster looming. It was like the shivering of aspen leaves when a storm is approaching; it was in the silences of people around me and the sudden termination of conversations when I approached.

Soon after the ceremony the French envoy, De Vaux, came to London. He had been sent, the Countess told me, by the mother of François who was acting as the Regent of France during the King's absence in Madrid.

“Why is he here?” I asked.

“It is to make terms with your father.”

“That means there is peace with France?”

“There will be.”

“What of the Emperor? Our alliance with him is over?”

“Well, the war is over now.”

“So we are no longer friends with him?”

“Oh, it will be amicably settled… but no one has any wish to continue with the war.”

“But why does the French envoy come here?”

“He will make peace terms with your father.”

“It seems so strange. We hated them so much and now there are lavish entertainments for the French.”

“That is diplomacy.”

“I do not understand it.”

“Few people understand diplomacy. It is a veil of discretion and politeness covering the real meaning.”

“Why do people not say what they mean?”

“Because that could be very disturbing.”

I did know that I was one of the subjects which was being discussed by my father, the Cardinal and the French envoy. First it was announced that I was to go to Ludlow.

My mother came to tell me this. I noticed that she looked older. There was gray in her hair, more lines on her face, and her skin had lost its healthy color.