The Jenny Wilson Show (featuring Henry VIII and his six wives) (5 page)

“That she sacrificed her own life to do so,”

“And the child died too.”

“A girl, Catherine. And the Tudor dynasty hung by a thread: me. It was a lesson I learned well – a king needed sons. But the politics of the time meant our betrothal went ahead.”

“Isabella of Castile seems to have earned your respect,” I said to Henry, having seen the expressions chase across his face when Catherine talked about her upbringing.

He shifted slightly in his seat. “Yes.”

“She was a queen regnant,” I said.

“Yes,” he replied. “But the Spanish and English are different. We were not ready for a queen regnant. Not in my time.”

“It wasn’t so very long after your time that your daughters proved you wrong,” said Catherine.

Henry glared at her.

“But then my mother died. And once again, that changed things for me,” said Catherine. “Not just because I had lost my mother but because my status had changed. I was a princess of Spain until that point but the union of Castile and Aragon was only for the duration of my parents’ marriage. After my mother died, my father retained his kingdom of Aragon but the throne of Castile was inherited by my sister Juana. My father did rule as her regent for she was declared mad and eventually the thrones of Aragon and Castile were united by her son, my nephew Charles and my position was powerful again.”

She paused before adding, “But all that was far in the future. I became caught up in a plot to enable King Henry and my sister’s husband Philip of Burgundy to plot against my father. I did not know what my duenna, Dona Elvira, was about when she asked me to write to the king suggesting that he invite my sister and brother-in-law to court. It was only when De Puebla warned me that she and her brother, the ambassador to Philip’s court, were plotting against my father that I realised what was happening and sent a second letter to the king explaining I had written under duress.”

With a rueful grimace she said, “De Puebla urged me to be silent but I could not pretend I did not know what a traitor to my father Dona Elvira was – and so, we quarrelled and she left my service. After all that, my sister and brother-in-law were shipwrecked in Dorset by storms and Philip invited himself to the English court in any case. We all met at Windsor.”

“Indeed,” said Henry, “I much admired Philip. I was much saddened when I heard he died. He was a chivalrous and gallant knight, someone I looked up to and wanted to emulate. I remember he refused to dance with you.”

Catherine nodded. “He did. As Henry says, he was such a gallant knight.”

“You were my enemy!” A shout from the audience followed by some muffled scuffling noises.

“Sorry about that,” said Lucifer. “Gag slipped.”

“We’ll meet up later,” Henry called.

A short pause and Lucifer called back, “He’s looking forward to it.”

Hastily, I tried to re-gather my thoughts. I hoped audience members weren’t going to interrupt too much. The problem was I didn’t really know who was out there.

“So Philip your brother-in-law was rude to you because you were his enemy,” I said.

Catherine nodded. “He knew of my loyalty to my father. I think that is why he only allowed Juana and me a short meeting. He was afraid of my influence over her. He should not have been; Juana had become his creature. I never saw her again but then I had not looked to see any of my family when I left Spain, so even a short meeting was precious. I had become very good friends with Henry’s youngest sister, Mary, so I was making my home among the Tudors. But it did not seem as if the Tudors wanted me any more.”

Henry nodded. “It was shortly after Philip’s visit that I was called upon to renounce the marriage because the betrothal had been made when I was too young. It was my father’s wish.”

“It was then that my hardships really began. King Henry deliberately treated me badly in the hope it would force my father to send the rest of the dowry. My household was disbanded and I lived as a pensioner at court with no income. I had to sell jewellery to buy clothes. When my father failed to send the dowry by its due date, I was treated with contempt and my confessor confirmed that the marriage with Henry might not go ahead.”

“Catalina had not been told that I had already renounced it,” he explained. “She still did not speak English, so if anyone had been sympathetic enough to whisper a word to her, she would not have understood them. As for disbanding her household, it was a veritable wasps’ nest and everyone thought it was best to abandon it.”

“That’s unfair,” she said. “We just didn’t know what to do for the best.”

“It was your household, maybe you should have told them.”

“I was a princess. Sheltered from the worst of men, apart from my brother-in-law, of course, and having to face your father’s double-dealing and meanness. Could you have done any better?”

“I’d like to think I’d be master in my own house.”

“What did happen,” she continued, “was that I became my father’s ambassador to the English court and was given the task of negotiating a marriage between King Henry and my sister Juana. I learned to lie like a diplomat.”

“As you proved later,” Henry sniffed.

“This is good stuff, Alice,” Ruth said.

The control room had been silent for so long, I’d forgotten they were there.

Catherine flapped her hand at him. “My treatment improved. I learned to write in ciphers and to talk direct to kings rather than through an ambassador. My father then sent Fuensalida out as ambassador. I was pleased. I had requested that he replace De Puebla who I did not feel was of sufficiently good birth to be my father’s representative in England.”

“You were such a snob,” said Henry, “we Tudors cared more about a man’s ability than his birth.”

“That’s what comes of having a wardrobe master for great grandfather instead of a proper descent from kings. Anyway, the old issue about the plate and its worth was conceded by my father, who agreed to make up the difference in my dowry. Everything should have progressed with my second marriage. But then King Henry betrothed his daughter Mary to Charles, my sister’s son. My father was not pleased and Fuensalida ordered me not to take part in the court ceremonies for the betrothal. But not taking part would make it look as if I were not to marry Prince Henry after all.”

“As, indeed, you were not, at that point.”

“Well, I did not know that,” she continued, “and so I asked my confessor, who said I should take part and so I ignored Fuensalida. That meant Fuensalida was not pleased and he tried to get my confessor removed.”

“Always squabbling, the Spaniards, even the priests,” said Henry. “Do go on,” he grinned as she glared at him.

“To make matters worse, Fuensalida’s rough handling of the council and the king meant they refused to receive him. How could a man finish the negotiations for my marriage when those he must negotiate with would not see him? He believed the English were preparing to make war with Spain and that the only way out was for the pair of us to leave. Even De Puebla had managed my affairs better than Fuensalida! I thought I had known despair when they talked of not letting me go to Ludlow with Arthur. Now, I knew I had failed. I wrote to my father asking him to make arrangements for me to go back to Spain.”

“And then,” said Henry, “everything changed.”

Catherine smiled broadly for the first time. “From the depths of despair to elation. King Henry died and the new King Henry was so very different.”

Henry smiled, “I was young, then. Not yet eighteen and I had been educated to believe that justice and virtue were what kings should aspire to. I had been brought up on tales of the Arthurian legends, chivalry and the fifth King Henry. I wanted to be great. I wanted to go down in history as King Henry the Great. And the first thing I could do was right the wrongs that had been done to the Infanta Catalina and make her England’s queen. So, that is what I did.”

“And cut to a break,” said Julian.

“Well done everyone,” said Ruth.

Chapter Four

“OK Alice, we’re back on air.”

“Welcome back to The Jenny Wilson show,” I beamed into camera two. “For those of you who’ve just joined us, we’re helping Katherine Parr re-visit the greatest dilemma of her life by talking to Henry the Eighth and his previous five wives. So far we’ve heard about Catalina of Aragon’s arrival in England, her first husband’s death and her despair at the wrangling that took place between her father and Henry’s over her second marriage. Then we heard that almost the first action Henry took when he came to the throne was to right the wrongs done to her. Tell me, Katherine,” I said, turning to Katherine Parr. “What do you think of Henry’s action in marrying Catalina as soon as he became king?”

“I think it’s very romantic,” she said. “Very chivalric.”

Henry smirked.

“How quickly did you decide?” I asked him.

He shifted in his seat. “My father’s death was not announced for two days,” he said. “That was so we, that is my officials and myself, could ensure a smooth transfer of power. My Yorkist relatives had not been treated well during my father’s reign and there was a fear that an uprising might be staged. One thing I needed to do was make a strong marriage, to make allies you understand.”

I nodded.

“Also, as I intended to pursue my claim to the French crown which the fifth King Henry had won, it made sense to ally myself with Spain and the Low Countries. A Spanish princess was already at court, the contract had already been negotiated in my father’s reign so there was no need to wait the interminable months for the contract to be negotiated and my bride to arrive. It could all be done quickly. And my position would be that much stronger.”

“And you knew her,” I suggested.

They looked across at each other.

“Not really,” said Henry. “We had met many times on formal occasions but my father had been very careful about who I saw privately and what I did. I was not even allowed to joust,” he sniffed.

“I knew more of Henry than he knew of me, I think,” said Catherine. “I knew that our educations were similar and that made a bond.”

“And also my father had treated us both harshly,” said Henry. “For me that made a bond too.”

“So all the wrangling was over?” I said.

“Effectively,” said Henry. “Ferdinand paid the remainder of the dowry and we married privately on the eleventh of June.”

“It was very different to my first wedding,” said Catherine, “but I liked that. Seven years of wrangling during King Henry’s time and then to be married within just seven weeks was little less than miraculous to me. I had money and clothes again. Oh it was a happy time!”

“Why such a quiet wedding?” I asked.

“Well, my father was newly dead and the coronation was to take place on midsummer’s day, which was less than two weeks later and…”

“Ah,” interrupted Catherine, “it was so good not to have to fear midsummer’s day.”

Henry glared at her, “I was about to add there was the matter of you having been my dead brother’s wife.” He smiled at me, “But no doubt we shall come to that later.”

“We shall,” I confirmed, trying to stop my knees weakening as I felt the warmth of his smile. “Why did you fear midsummer’s day?”

“Well, it was always the date by which my father should have sent the remainder of my dowry and he always failed,” said Catherine. “Some years even the excuses were late.”

“We need to move on,” said Julian. “This is a live show, you know.”

I fought the urge to grimace at the control room. The whole point about PL-TV is that it just runs. Our audience does not need to sleep, eat or take comfort breaks. They just want to be entertained and there’s always an earth channel we can tune into when we need to break shows up for technical reasons.

“Don’t worry about it,” said Ruth. “You’re doing fine.”

The interruptions meant I’d lost the thread of the conversation. What had I been going to ask? I floundered, imagined myself gasping like a fish out of water.

“The coronation,” snapped Julian. “Where did we get this amateur from?”

“You were crowned together?” I asked. I really, really wanted to strangle Julian. I struggled to restrain my mind from contemplating whether that was still a possibility.

“Yes, although the ceremony meant I was crowned first and my queen second,” said Henry. “She did not have an oath to swear.”

“But I was anointed with holy oil,” said Catherine, “and so I was as much queen as you were king. Nothing could ever change that.”

“Queens had stepped aside when they were unable to bear heirs,” said Henry irritably, “the coronation of a queen consort emphasises that her role is to bear children. And when we look at the mess you made of your first pregnancy, it seems you were always ill-equipped there madam!”

“What happened with your first pregnancy?” I intervened before Catherine could answer Henry directly.

She sighed. “I miscarried a daughter but my stomach still grew and my physicians assured me I was still pregnant, so I took to my chamber in March. And then I waited and my belly shrank and there was no child. It was not even embarrassing, it was humiliating.”

“Humiliating for me as well: I needed an heir. There we were planning for an heir and then there was none.”