Katharine of Aragon (117 page)

1. How would you describe Henry's priorities as King? Can you identify one or more guiding principles to his reign? What do his words and actions with the pregnant Katharine when he is on his way to battle in France—and again on his return, after her miscarriage and defense of England—say about how his many goals relate to each other? Does this relationship remain more or less consistent through his reign?
   

2. What might Cardinal Wolsey have done to secure his position with the King? Is there any way that he and Anne Boleyn could have peacefully coexisted? Discuss what factors you consider most significant in Wolsey's downfall.
   

3. Discuss Katharine's relationship with the women of her household, which included Wolsey's spies and noble beauties to attract the king as well as loyal Spanish friends. Were they more a danger to her or a comfort? How were they most useful to her? How were they most harmful? In what ways did Katharine learn to choose whom to trust, and whom merely to tolerate? Do you think she made the right decisions?
   

4. What, if anything, would have satisfied Henry? Can you imagine a wife who could have answered all his needs—or an arrangement allowing his needs to be met by others—that might have kept peace in the palace? A military victory that would have given him the triumph he longed for? Were any of his goals truly attainable, or was he destined to always want more?
   

LOOKING BACK IT IS DIFFICULT TO DECIDE BETWEEN WHAT
I remember and what was told me. There are certain things though, which stand out very clearly in my mind and one was the visit to Windsor and my meeting with the King.

I was playing with the dolls and talking to Feodore about them. I adored my sister. She was very pretty and twelve years older than I, so she seemed very grown up. I was about seven at this time, so she must have been nineteen. I also had a half-brother, Charles, who was three years older than Feodore, but he was in Leiningen looking after his estates there, although he did come to England now and then. Feodore was with us all the time, and I do believe she loved to be with me as much as I did with her.

She was very interested in the dolls—almost as interested as Lehzen. Lehzen thought they were wonderful. It had been her idea that I should start the collection in the first place; and she and I made some of the costumes together.

Being Lehzen, who always had her eyes on education, she pointed out the dolls represented historical characters. Of course we had Queen Elizabeth. “The great Queen,” Lehzen called her; but when I learned more about her, I did not like her so very much. She seemed to have acted in a way which was not always good.

Aunt Adelaide, who always showed affection for me and would have liked to see me more often if Mama would have permitted it, gave me a beautiful doll. It was bigger than all the others and it had such splendid clothes that Lehzen said we should not attempt to dress it in any other way. So among my collection of historical dolls, it was just the Big Doll; and she always reminded me of kind Aunt Adelaide.

Feodore was saying that Queen Elizabeth's dress had a little rent in it. I knew this. I had torn it myself when I had thrown her down rather roughly. I had just heard that when she had died there had been three thousand dresses in her wardrobe, which was an excessive number. She had clearly been very vain and I was going to let her have a rent in her skirt for a while.

“She is the most beautiful of the dolls,” said Feodore. “I am sure Lehzen will mend that tear very soon.”

“It won't hurt her to have a torn skirt for a while, the vain creature.” Feodore laughed. “I believe you do not like Queen Elizabeth very much,” she said.

At that moment Mama came in. She was quivering. Mama often seemed to quiver, either in rage or excitement. It was because of all the feathers she wore, and the pendants about her neck and in her ears, the frills on her bodices and the rustling of her skirts. It gave an impression of perpetual violent emotion.

She had something to tell us. Normally she would have sent for us and we should have had to go to her, not forgetting to curtsy respectfully. We must always show our respect for Mama, always remember what she had done for us, sacrificing herself all the time for our good.

But as this was a matter of great importance, she had dispensed with the usual formalities.

“At last,” she announced, “that man has seen fit to invite us to Windsor.” I knew at once that she was talking of my uncle, the King, for he lived at Windsor.

“I am of two minds as to whether I shall accept the invitation, but …” began Mama.

I knew she meant that she would accept the invitation, and I happened to have gleaned that it was a source of irritation to her that we had not been invited before.

“I suppose, as after all he does
call
himself King …”

“Do not other people call him King?” I asked innocently. I was very direct and as Mama and Lehzen constantly told me, at this stage of my development I took what people said too literally. In any case, Mama had implied that it was only the King who called himself King.

“You must learn not to make foolish interjections,” said Mama, quivering more than before. “The fact is we are going to Windsor. I shall insist that we are treated with due respect. Hold your head up. Have you been wearing your holly necklace?”

“Yes, Mama, but I think I can manage without it.”

“It does not appear to be so.
I
shall decide when you may dispense with it. Why are you not wearing it now?”

“Lehzen said that when I was playing with the dolls I could leave it off.”

She was referring to the sprig of holly attached to a cord which I had to wear round my neck to induce me to hold my head high, for when I did not my chin came into contact with the prickles. It was a form of torture which I greatly disliked, and whenever I could I would inveigle Lehzen into letting me go without it.

I could see that Mama's annoyance with me was really her dislike of the King; but at the same time she was pleased that he had invited us to Windsor.

She looked at her elder daughter and said: “You shall accompany us, Feodore.”

“That will be lovely, won't it, Sissy?” I said.

Feodore hugged me. I sometimes felt that she wanted to protect me from Mama's severity.

“You will enjoy the visit,” she said.

“Yes, especially if you are there.”

Mama softened a little. She liked to see the affection between us two.

“Well then,” she went on. “I shall make plans. Victoria, you must remember to behave perfectly so that there can be no criticism. The King is very insistent on good manners. It is the one virtue he himself has managed to retain. People will be watching you. Any little slip will be noticed, you can be sure. There will be malicious eyes on you and tongues to wag if you misbehave.”

I was already beginning to feel nervous. But Feodore pressed my hand reassuringly and I thought: She will be there, so it will be all right.

That this was a most important visit was obvious. Mama might express her contempt for all my paternal uncles—the King among them—but when all was said and done he
was
the King and we were all—even Mama—his subjects.

Lehzen tried to prepare me.

At Windsor Lodge, where I should be presented to the King, I should meet a lady in his company whom it would be quite important not to offend.

“A lady? Do you mean the Queen, Lehzen?”

“Well no … not the Queen, a lady. Lady Conyngham. She is a very great friend of the King.”

“I do know that the King and Queen don't like each other very much.”

Lehzen looked alarmed. “You must never say anything about that.” There were times when she was afraid she had told me too much. I was beginning to recognize signs like that.

“You may be surprised when you see the King,” she went on. “He is rather old.”

“Yes, Lehzen, I know. Mama has often said so.”

Lehzen looked even more alarmed. “You must guard your tongue. It would be wise to speak only when the King speaks to you and then only answer what he asks.”

I was beginning to feel more and more nervous.

“Don't worry,” said Feodore. “Say what is natural to you. I am sure that will be all right.”

Dear, comforting Feodore!

When we were riding in the carriage on the way to Windsor Lodge, Mama was giving instructions. “I hope you have practiced your curtsy. You must be grave. Do not laugh in that really vulgar way you seem to be developing … showing all your gums. Smile. Just lift the corners of your mouth … and remember that although he is the King, you are royal too.”

“Yes, Mama … Yes, Mama …”

I really was not listening. I was admiring the countryside and wondering what Uncle King would be like, and why there was all this pursing of the lips when Lady Conyngham and her family—who seemed to live at Windsor Lodge with the King—were mentioned. I would ask Lehzen. No, not Lehzen. She could be reticent at times. I would ask my other governess Baroness Spath … or Feodore. How wonderful to have such a dear sister who was so much older—grown up and yet not exactly a grown-up. Yes, I would ask Feodore.

My hand crept into hers and she pressed it reassuringly. I loved her so much and thought: we shall always be together.

We had arrived.

At length the great moment came and I was ushered into the presence of the King.

I saw a figure so huge that even the very large and ornate chair in which he sat seemed too small to hold him and he flowed over it as though someone had tried to pour him in and spilt some of him. The analogy made me want to giggle. I restrained myself severely and swept the most profound curtsy I had ever made in my life. It was effective, I am sure. It should have been. I had been practicing it ever since I had known I was to meet him.

“So this is Victoria.” His voice was soft and really musical; and I loved music. “Come here, my dear child.”

So I went and looked up into that huge face; his cravat came right up to his chins and his cheeks seemed to wobble. He had beautiful pink cheeks and his hair was a mass of luxuriant curls. I thought: Some parts of him are so beautiful.

He was watching me as intently as I was watching him.

Then he said: “Give me your little paw.”

Paw! What a strange name to give a hand! It seemed very funny and I forgot Mama's instructions and laughed.

He took my hand in his, which was very large, white and sparkling with rings.

He laughed with me, so at least he was not annoyed.

“Such a pretty little paw,” he said. He turned to the lady who was standing
close to his chair. She was very beautiful though rather fat—but not nearly so fat as the King. Perhaps it was her clothes which made her seem so splendid. He said: “Lift her up, my dear. I want to see her closely.”

So I was set on his knee, which was soft and wobbly like a feather cushion. It was an odd sensation to be so close to his face. I was fascinated by the delicate pink of his cheeks and the curls of his hair, which looked as though they belonged to a young man, and yet the pouches under his eyes made him look like an old one.

He looked at me as though he found my appearance interesting and because of his lovely voice and his kindly looks I began to wonder why Mama hated him so much. He was not nearly so awe-inspiring as I had expected him to be. He seemed as though he wanted to please me as much as I wanted to please him.

He said how delighted he was that I had come to see him. “It was good of you,” he added.

“I was told I must come,” I said.

Then I felt that was the wrong thing to have said because it sounded as though I didn't want to. I went on hurriedly: “I was so excited. But there was a great deal to remember … so I hope I do not do anything wrong.”

He laughed. It was a very friendly laugh. He said: “My dear little Victoria, I very much doubt that
anything
you did would be wrong in my eyes.”

“But I do
do
things which are wrong …”

“Perhaps we all do … now and then.”

“Even you, Uncle King?”

There! I had said it! Mama would be listening. Oh dear, there would be a lecture.

He was smiling still. “Yes, even Uncle King.”

“Of course I should have said Your Majesty.”

“Do you know, I like Uncle King better.”

“Do you really … Uncle King?”

Then we both laughed again. I was so relieved and I quite liked sitting on his blubbery knee and watching his old-young face and wishing my hair curled as beautifully as his did, and thinking how different he was from what I had expected.

“You look rather pleased,” he said. “I believe you are enjoying your visit and finding Uncle King not such an old ogre as you may have been led to believe.”

I hunched my shoulders and nodded, for that was exactly the truth.

He asked me questions and I told him about the dolls and how I was rather pleased that Queen Elizabeth's skirt was torn and had been for several
days and Lehzen had not noticed it yet. “She was so vain,” I said. “She deserved it.”

He agreed.

Then he said he must give me a little memento of our meeting. I was not sure what that meant but guessed it was some sort of present, and so it proved to be for he said to the plump lady: “Bring it, my dear.”

She brought a miniature of a very beautiful young man set in diamonds. “It is lovely,” I cried. “What a beautiful young man.”

“You don't recognize him?”

I looked puzzled. I lifted my eyes to his face. The plump lady was nodding and trying to tell me something. I did not understand.

“I daresay I have changed since that was done,” said the King sadly.

Then I knew. I looked closely and I did see a faint resemblance between the face in the picture and that of my benign young-old Uncle King.

I smiled. “It is
you
… Uncle King. It was because it was so small and you are bigger now … I didn't see it at first.”

It was a little late, but he did not seem to mind so much after all.

He turned to the fat lady. “Pin the miniature on her dress, my dear.” The fat lady, perfumed and silky, leaned over and smiling at me, obeyed. “There! That will remind you of this day.”

“Oh, I should not have forgotten … not ever.”

“You are a very nice little girl,” he said. “I have given you a present. What will you give me?”

I thought hard. One of the dolls? Queen Elizabeth perhaps … we could mend her skirt.

He said with a smile: “A kiss would be very nice.”

That was easy. In spite of my disapproval of Queen Elizabeth I was glad I was not going to lose her. He put his face forward and I was so happy because the visit, which I had been dreading so much, had been so easy, and because he was kind and hadn't minded in the least being called Uncle King; and partly because he had been a little hurt because I had not recognized him as the beautiful young man in the picture, I put my arms round his neck and kissed him twice.