Catherine of Aragon Read Free

you look like a hand-bell! And what a chance to show off the charms of a slim figure! Doña Elvira, needless to say, is all disapproval. She thinks the English style is indecent, and goes around muttering about “hussies looking as if they’re wearing their night clothes.” In her case, concealment is kind, but I don’t see why those of us with less bulk to hide should go on being so restricted. Admittedly, it would be an immense amount of work to reshape all those skirts to hang properly without a hoop underneath, and we couldn’t do it before the wedding. But afterwards – now, that’s a different thing.
    13th November 1501
    Uncle Rod seems to take little pleasure in all the excitement and festivity. He shook his head this afternoon when I spoke to him about it, and said Queen Isabella would not approve of such gaudy extravagance. In her last letter to him, she remarked that money would be better spent in taking care of Catherine’s long-term welfare – but that is not the Tudor way. Uncle Rod says their main aim is to impress the foreign royal families, because – and he glanced round to make sure nobody was listening – compared with those old ruling dynasties, the Tudors are an upstart lot with only a very slender claim to being royal at all. King Henry’s mother, Lady Margaret Beaufort, is of royal stock, but on his father’s side he comes of unruly Welsh landowners with a taste for fighting and good living. The crown was put on his head in all the blood and confusion of a battle fought at Bosworth Field, and they say it was retrieved from a thorn bush, where it had rolled from the head of the dead Richard III. Since then, Henry has tried throughout his reign to keep the peace, and he has succeeded in this – but his real battle is to win the respect of Europe’s ancient royal families and he goes about that with the energy and determination of a soldier.
    14th November 1501
    The wedding. And what a day it’s been! A whirlwind of colour and pageantry and feasting and wine – heavens, how these English drink! They are said to be the most truculent, law-resistant people in Europe, united among themselves only when fighting a common enemy, but their appetite for revelry is almost frightening. The King had caused the fountains to flow with burgundy wine after the marriage was celebrated, and the crowds were gulping it from their cupped hands, yelling and cheering, surging to and fro, careless of those who had fallen insensible and were being trampled over.
    Catherine remained serene throughout it all. She looked lovely – as fresh and young as a girl making her First Communion – in her gown of white satin and with her long hair held by a circlet of gold and pearls. Those of us who had sat for so long stitching pierced seed pearls on to her veil with fine gold thread were rewarded when we saw her standing in that shimmer of delicate brightness. I wish Mama could have seen it – she would have been so proud.
    Arthur, too, looked beautiful in his white clothes, and in the cathedral the pair of them stood out like two white swans against the deep, rich scarlet of the draperies and the massed gorgeousness of the courtiers. Margaret was gowned in cloth of gold as befits the future Queen of Scotland, and little Mary wore a dress of crimson velvet. Harry was in a richly embroidered tunic and a fur-trimmed cloak, and when the ceremony ended, it was he who escorted Catherine down the aisle to the waiting people massed outside. His face was proud and unsmiling, and I had the feeling that he was impatient with his youth, cursing it for casting him as the second son and not the elder.
    We came in grand procession to Baynard’s Castle, and feasted throughout the afternoon and evening. Gold platters gleamed in the light of hundreds of candles, and servants came in with course after course of soups and pies and roast meats (venison, rabbit, goose, swan