The King's Secret Matter (52 page)

It was a bright April day when Katharine heard the news. It came to her in a letter from Chapuys. Now that she was exiled she did receive letters more freely than she had when she had been at Court surrounded by Wolsey's spies, and so was in constant touch with the Spanish ambassador.

Often she thought that, had her nephew sent her a man with the energy of Eustache Chapuys some years ago, she might have had the advantage of very valuable advice. Chapuys was indefatigable. She had a great admiration for him; she knew that he was of humble origin and that he had come to England hoping to achieve fame and fortune; yet, when he had heard of the wrongs done to her, he had thrown himself so wholeheartedly into her cause that he had become the most ardent champion it had ever been her good fortune to have. Alas, she thought, luck was never with me, for he came too late.

Now she read his letter and the news it contained startled her.

The King, wrote Chapuys, had secretly gone through a form of marriage with the Concubine who was shortly to be proclaimed Queen. The fact was that she was with child by the King and Henry was taking no chances of the child's being branded illegitimate. Therefore, Katharine would shortly receive a summons to appear before a court which Cranmer was about to open at Dunstable. On no account must she answer that summons. Nevertheless they would conduct the court without her; but her absence would cause some discomfiture and delay; and owing to the recent law that ecclesiastical cases must be settled in England and not referred to Rome, they could be sure that Cranmer would pronounce the marriage null and void. She would see, of course, that there would then be no need of a dispensation from the Pope, because such a dispensation was unnecessary as the King would accept the ruling of Cranmer's court, which would be that Katharine and the King had never truly been married.

She sighed as she read these words.

She would obey Chapuys's instructions. He was one of the few people she could trust; and when the summons came for her to appear at Dunstable, following quickly on Chapuys's warning, she ignored it.

But her absence could not prevent the court's being opened and the case tried.

On the 23rd of May Cranmer declared that the marriage between King Henry VIII and Katharine of Aragon was invalid, and that the Queen of England was no longer Katharine but Anne.

The weary waiting was over. The matter had been settled simply by cutting the knot which bound England to the Church of Rome. There need no longer be talk of the divorce,
for a divorce was not necessary between people who had never been married.

News came to Ampthill of the coronation of Queen Anne. Great pomp there had been in the streets of London; Katharine heard of how Anne had ridden in triumph under a canopy of state in purple velvet lined with ermine. A Queen at last! All the nobility had attended her coronation; they dared do no other; but the people in the streets had shown less enthusiasm than was usual on such occasions. Royal pageants were the highlights of living to them; they always welcomed them, especially when the King ordered that wine should flow in the conduits; but on this occasion there were few cheers.

Katharine's women tried to cheer her as they sat at their needlework.

‘They say, Your Grace, that there was scarcely a cheer as she rode through the city.'

Katharine nodded, and Maria who sat beside her knew that the Queen was remembering her own coronation: coming to the Tower from Greenwich, dressed in white embroidered satin, a coronal set with many glittering stones on her head, her long hair hanging down her back: remembering the ardent looks of Henry, who had insisted on marrying her against the advice of his ministers. In those days she had believed that nothing could happen to spoil their happiness.

‘I heard,' said one of her women, ‘that my lord of Shrewsbury declared he was too old to shout for a new Queen. He also said that the new Queen was a goggle-eyed whore; and many people heard him cry “God save Queen Katharine who is our own righteous Queen!” '

Katharine shook her head. ‘Do not repeat such things,' she warned.

‘But, Your Grace, I had it on the best authority. It is true the people do not like Queen Anne. Many of them say they will not have her as their Queen.'

‘You should pray for her,' answered Katharine.

Her women looked at her in astonishment.

‘Pray for Nan Bullen!'

‘Once,' said the Queen, ‘I rode through the streets of London, the Queen, the King's chosen bride. He faced opposition, you know, to marry me.' She had dropped her needlework into her lap and her eyes were misty as she looked into the past. ‘And look you, what I have come to. It may not be long before she is in like case.'

There was silence, and the Queen took up her work and began to sew.

It was clear to all that Katharine's thoughts were far away; and when the sewing was over, and rising from her chair she was about to go to her private chapel, she tripped and fell, driving a pin into her foot.

Maria and others of her ladies helped her to her bed, and in the morning her foot was swollen and it was necessary to call her physician.

During the next days she remained in her bed. She had developed a cough which would not leave her in spite of the warm summer weather. And as she lay she wondered what steps the new Queen would take to further her discomfiture, for she was sure this would come. She pictured Anne, riding through the streets filled with sullen people. Ambitious, haughty and bold, Anne would certainly take measures to show the people that she was their new mistress.

Katharine did not have to wait long.

She was still in bed on account of the accident to her foot, and her cough had not improved, when her women came to tell her that a party of men had come from the King, and at their head was Lord Mountjoy.

Lord Mountjoy! He had once been her chamberlain and a very good servant to her; she was pleased then to hear that he it was who had been chosen to convey the King's wishes to her.

But when he was brought into her presence she realised quickly that her one-time servant was now the King's man.

‘Your Grace,' he told her, ‘you will know that at the court at Dunstable your marriage to the King was declared null and void by the Archbishop of Canterbury, and leave was given both to you and the King to marry elsewhere.'

She bowed her head. ‘I have been informed of this.'

‘You will know also that the coronation of Queen Anne has also taken place.'

Katharine nodded once more in acquiescence.

‘The King decrees that, as it is impossible for there to be two Queens of England, you will henceforth be known as Princess of Wales since you are the widow of his brother Arthur, Prince of Wales.'

Katharine raised herself on her elbow. ‘I am the Queen of England,' she said, ‘and that is my title.'

‘But Your Grace knows that the Lords spiritual and temporal have declared the marriage invalid.'

‘All the world knows by what authority it was done,' retorted Katharine. ‘By power, not justice. This case is now pending in Rome and the matter depends not on judgment given in this realm, but in the Court of Rome, before the Pope, whom I believe to be God's vicar and judge on Earth.'

‘Madam, you speak treason,' said Mountjoy.

‘It is a sorry state,' answered the Queen mournfully, ‘when truth becomes treason.'

Mountjoy handed her the documents he had brought with him from the King and, glancing at them, she saw that throughout she was referred to as the Princess Dowager.

She called Maria to bring her a pen and boldly struck out the words Princess Dowager wherever they occurred.

Mountjoy watched her in dismay, and as he did so he remembered the occasion of her coronation and how she had always been a just mistress to him.

‘Madam,' he said, pleading, ‘I beg of you to take care. It would be a grievous thing if you were charged with high treason.'

She smiled at him. ‘If I agreed with your persuasions, my Lord Mountjoy, I should slander myself. Would you have me confess that I have been the King's harlot these twenty-four years?'

Mountjoy felt unnerved, and could not proceed as he had been instructed to do. Katharine sensed this and softened towards him.

‘Do not distress yourself,' she said, ‘I know full well that you do what you have been commanded to do.'

Mountjoy went on to his knees. ‘Madam,' he said, ‘should I be called upon to persecute you further, I should decline to do so . . . no matter what the consequences.'

‘I, thank you, Lord Mountjoy, but I would not have you suffer for me. Take these papers back to the King. Tell him that I am his wife now as I was on the day he married me. Tell him also that I shall not accept the title of Princess Dowager because my title is Queen of England. That I shall remain until my death.'

Apprehensively Mountjoy went back to Court.

Disturbed by Mountjoy's account of what had happened, Henry decided that Katharine should be sent farther from London and commanded that she move her household from Ampthill to Buckden, there to take up residence in a palace which belonged to the Bishop of Lincoln. In the summer, when Katharine arrived, this place was charming, offering views over the fen country; Katharine had yet to discover how damp and bleak it could be in winter and what a disastrous effect it would have on her health.

She was extremely unhappy to move because, not only was she to change her place of residence, but she was also to lose certain members of her household. She had had too many friends at Ampthill, and they had upheld her in her sauciness, said the King. She could manage with a smaller household at Buckden; and one of the first to be dismissed should be Maria de Salinas who had always been her strong partisan from the days when she had first arrived in England. The edict had been that all those who refused to address her as the Princess of Wales should be dismissed. Katharine promptly forbade anyone to address her by any title but that of Queen.

She was desolate to lose Maria. This was the bitterest blow of the entire upheaval, and those who watched their farewell wept with them.

Katharine's stubborn determination was a source of great irritation to the King, but he was fully aware that the people who lived in the villages surrounding her were her fervent supporters, and he had heard that when she had travelled from Ampthill to Buckden the way along which she had passed had been crowded with people who shouted: ‘Long live the Queen!'

She was an encumbrance and an embarrassment to him but he knew he must treat her with care. Therefore he finally allowed her a few servants – though he firmly refused to allow Maria to be one of them – whom he excused from taking an oath to address her as the Princess of Wales; and with this smaller household, Katharine lived at Buckden.

There was one fact for which she was thankful. Her chaplain, Dr Abell, who had written against the divorce, had been released from prison and allowed to come back to her. The man was too obscure, Henry decided, to be of much importance.

At Buckden Katharine endeavoured to return to the old routine. Her life was quiet, and she spent a great deal of time in her chamber which had a window looking into the chapel. She seemed to find great comfort in sitting alone in this window-seat.

She busied herself with the care of the poor people living close by who had never known any show such solicitude for their well-being before. There was food to be had at the palace for the hungry; the Queen and her ladies made garments for those who needed them; and although Katharine was far from rich she set aside a large part of her income for the comfort of the poor.

‘A saint has come among us,' said the people; and they declared they would call no other Queen but Katharine.

Henry knew what was happening and it angered him, for it seemed to him that all those who admired the Queen were criticising him; he could not endure criticism. But there was one matter which occupied his thoughts day and night. Anne was about to give birth to their child.

A son, he told himself exultantly, will put an end to all
trouble. Once I have my son there will be such rejoicing that no one will give much thought to Katharine. It will be a sign that God is pleased with me for discarding one who was not in truth my wife, and taking another.