Catherine of Aragon (12 page)

I hope she will like it. I would hate to be sent away from my home and family to a castle near Wales, which they say is a very wet place. Thank goodness I am not a princess.

I saw Mark Smeaton catch Rosanna by her waist yesterday and give her a kiss. She was very offended and pushed him away. Mark said he was only trying to wish her a happy birthday, but I don't think she believed it. Mark is one of the court musicians. He plays the lute well and has a good voice, but Rosanna detests him. “He is pathetic,” she said. “Like a trodden-on spaniel, always hoping people will like him. He has no spirit. He is just cheeky, and that is a different thing.” I didn't understand what she meant. I quite like Mark. He gave me a bit of sugar candy the other day.

The King was in high good humour this morning. I saw him run his hand down Anne Boleyn's back as she went through a door ahead of him yesterday, then he laughed and bent his head to kiss her on the cheek. Anne works with Mama and Rosanna as one of the Queen's ladies, but she does not seem to mind being kissed. She smiled up at the King, all gaiety. She has been away at Hever Castle, her parents' home, for the last two years, and only came back quite recently. Rosanna says the King himself is in love with her, and he sent her away because she was having an affair with a young man called Henry Percy. There was quite a rumpus about it, and Cardinal Wolsey, the King's close adviser, told Percy that Anne Boleyn was not a suitable wife for a young man of good family. Percy was sent off to marry someone else. And Rosanna says Thomas Wyatt, the poet, is in love with Anne now.

I think all that is very silly. I love my family and I love the grey cat called Minna and the dogs that lie around when we all eat in the great hall, waiting for bones and scraps to be thrown. I love horses, too. But poets and young men called Percy sound a terrible bore.

This afternoon the King's mood changed completely, and he flew into one of his rages. Papa had a terrible time with him. King Henry loves music and plays well himself, so he is usually easy to amuse, but today something had upset him. Papa found out later that the Emperor Charles has broken off his engagement to Mary. The King has taken it as a personal insult, so his temper has been explosive ever since the news came. The whole court was tiptoeing about for fear of being shouted at, and even the Queen, who is always so calm and wise, dissolved into tears.

 

 

2nd October 1525

I meant to write my diary every day, but there are so many other things to do. I practise my dancing and singing, and Papa has given me a wooden flute, so that is a new instrument to learn, as well as the viol and lute. But I love the sound it makes, and Papa is a good teacher. My fingers are getting quicker at finding the notes.

Mark Smeaton still pesters Rosanna, though she won't have anything to do with him, and Thomas Wyatt gazes with soulful eyes at Anne Boleyn. But so does the King, which I find very odd. If she is too common a girl for young Percy to marry, how can she cast her spell on the King of England? Everyone is whispering that he is in love with her, but I can't understand it. King Henry is married to Queen Catherine, so how can he be in love with Anne? I am sure the Queen must be very upset about it. I asked Mama, and she sighed and said, “Poor lady – if only she had given him a son.”

It is true that the Queen was unlucky. She had child after child, but all of them died except Mary. I know babies die sometimes. Mama had a little boy after I was born, and he died before he was a year old. But at least she has four of us. People say the Queen's last childbirth left her injured, so she cannot have any more children. The King is disappointed because he wanted a son who would inherit the throne of England. All this fuss about sons puzzles me. Surely Princess Mary can be Queen of England when King Henry dies? Her grandmother, Isabella, was Queen of Spain, and she ruled the country, with some help from her husband. If Isabella could do it, why not Mary? Mama shook her head when I suggested this. “King Henry is set on having a son,” she said.

15th February 1526

There was a joust this afternoon. We watched from the covered stand, and Daniel was grumbling that he is not old enough yet to take part. I said, “But you will one day.” He is lucky. I myself will always be sitting on the benches under the striped awning, a mere spectator.

When the men rode in, they looked magnificent, as they always do. They were in armour, of course, but scarlet plumes flew from their helmets, and they wore full-skirted, embroidered tunics. Their horses were beautifully dressed as well, in embroidered trappings that covered them almost completely, just showing the lower part of their legs. There was one I specially liked, in pale blue and silver.

When the King came riding in on his big, black horse, a murmur went up because his tunic was stitched with the words, DECLARE I DARE NOT. All the ladies were giggling behind their hands, and I asked Mama what it meant. Her face had turned quite pink and she said, “Never mind,” so I asked Rosanna later. She told me the words meant the King has a new love, but he dares not say her name. But everyone knows her name. It is Anne Boleyn.

I keep thinking about Anne, wondering what it must be like to be loved by a king who already has a wife. I came face to face with her this evening as she brought a flask of sweet wine to the Queen's chamber. She is hardly taller than I am, a slender wisp of a thing. I suppose I must have been staring because she asked me what I thought I was looking at. She sounded very annoyed. It was no use pretending I hadn't been looking. I dropped her a respectful curtsey while I thought fast, then said, “I was looking at you.”

“And why, pray?” she asked.

I told her, “Because you are so beautiful.” Papa has always said a jester must look innocent.

It worked very well. “Bless the child,” Anne said. She patted my cheek and smiled at me. Then she went on to the Queen's door with her flask of wine.

She is not really beautiful. She has a slim figure, but her face is very pale, with a pointed chin. Rosanna says she is quick-witted, with a ready retort to any courtier who makes a flirtatious remark, and the men like her for that. She has jet-black eyes, as lively as a bird's. She makes me think of a magpie; neat and smart and attracted to things that glitter. And I suppose the greatest and most glittering prize of them all must be the King.

19th April 1526

King Henry hurled a jug of wine at Papa today, causing him a deep cut above the eyebrow. Mama said nothing, just bathed the wound and put some knitbone ointment on it. This afternoon we heard that Henry has sent Thomas Wyatt away to Italy on some sort of diplomatic mission that will last for years. Rosanna laughed and said, “His Majesty must be getting desperate. He is not used to having his wishes refused.”

Mama looked at her and shook her head. Neither of them would explain what Rosanna meant. But I met Mark Smeaton coming from the Queen's chamber with his lute, and I asked him. He was happy to tell me. “The King wants Anne to be his mistress, and she has turned him down. So he is raging about like a mad bull.”

I know what a mistress is. It is a woman who lives with a man as if the pair of them were married, only they are not. I am glad Anne has refused to do that. It would be dreadful for Queen Catherine.

Mark laughed when I said this. “Anne has no sympathy for the Queen,” he said. “She is refusing to be the King's mistress for just one reason. She wants to be his wife, and she will settle for nothing less.”

That is nonsense, of course. Henry is married to Queen Catherine, and the Church does not allow marriage vows to be broken. They will be man and wife for ever.

23rd August 1526

Mama says I am a woman now. I was frightened when I found traces of blood and ran to her because I thought I was ill, but she told me it's a very important part of growing up. I felt angry at first. Couldn't I have had a choice about whether I wanted to grow up? I have always wanted to have the same freedom as my brothers, to run about and ride and shoot, but Mama shook her head today, and said women have more important things to do. Perhaps it will not be too bad. The ladies of the court ride horses and fly hawks and go hunting, I suppose. In any case, I cannot change my life, any more than I can stop the winds blowing or the sun shining, so I will enjoy whatever there is to enjoy.

Rosanna has fallen in love with Diego Luiz de Frontera, the son of one of the Spanish attendants who came over from Granada with the Queen. She blushes and says it is not serious, but she cannot keep her eyes off him. He is very handsome, slim and broad-shouldered, with dark hair and eyes. I can see she is very happy.

Poor Princess Mary will not be happy. The French king, Francis I, wants to marry again because his wife died two years ago, and he has offered his hand as a husband for Mary. King Henry is delighted and so is Cardinal Wolsey.

The Queen, however, is not delighted at all. The French have always been enemies of Spain, so she does not want her daughter to marry their king. Besides, Mary is still only ten, and Francis is even older than the Emperor Charles. He could be her grandfather.

20th February 1527

Today is my thirteenth birthday – and I have been appointed a Lady of Court, to wait on the Queen! In a way it is nothing new, as I have always helped Rosanna and Mama, but I feel very grown-up, with my hair braided neatly under an embroidered cap, a present from Rosanna. Mama gave me a new gown, much more elaborate than any of my childhood dresses, and although I have always preferred boyish things, I must admit, this lovely dress is a pleasure. I specially like the slashed and embroidered over-sleeves that show the brocaded fabric underneath. They can be changed if they become soiled, as they are easier to clean than an entire gown. Mama gave me three pairs of sleeves, but my favourites are the pale-green silk ones, embroidered in blue and silver-white.

How strange it is to feel like a court lady! Suddenly I am included in the gossip instead of being sent away like a little girl, and I am starting to understand how things are done. People who want a favour of the King used to ask Queen Catherine to put in a word for them, but now they ask Anne Boleyn instead, knowing she is the one Henry listens to.

The Queen ignores all this. Since Christmas I have been going out with her and some other ladies almost every day, helping her to distribute charity among the crowds who flock to see her. Whatever her private worries may be, she is always serene and kind, and the common people adore her. They have probably heard the rumours about Anne, for gossip can never be stopped, but it has merely made them more protective of their true queen.

 

While the events described and some of the characters in these books may be based on actual historical events and real people, Eva De Puebla is a fictional character, created by the author and her story is a work of fiction.

 

 

 

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First published in the UK by Scholastic Ltd, 2001

(as My Story: My Tudor Queen)

This electronic edition published by Scholastic Ltd, 2013

 

Text copyright © Alison Prince, 2001

Cover Illustration © Richard Jones, 2010

 

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eISBN 978 1407 13347 8

 

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