By this time a delegation had arrived at the palace; the Council assembled, and with them all the ladies and gentlemen of our households, while a declaration of the Emperor's donation to his son was read out.
The Council was pleased and agreed that it should be proclaimed in the cathedral next day when the marriage took place.
It was a day to which I greatly looked forward but not without a certain trepidation.
The rain had ceased. I looked out of the window. How fresh the earth smelt—how green were the grass and trees. I could catch the sweet scent of flowers below me.
I was in love. Tomorrow would be my wedding day.
I said to myself: This night there is none happier in this land than its Queen.
IT WAS THE FEAST of St. James, which was appropriate, for St. James is the patron saint of Philip's country.
The church in which the ceremony was to take place was magnificently decorated with scarlet and cloth of gold.
I was at the church before Philip, having walked from the episcopal palace. I was wearing a gold-colored robe richly brocaded, trimmed with pearls and diamonds; my coif was decorated with two rows of diamonds; and the kirtle beneath my robe was of white satin with silver tracing. I wore the diamond on the chain which Philip had sent me, and my train was carried by Lady Margaret Douglas.
When Philip arrived, I felt gloriously happy. He looked magnificent in garments which I myself had presented to him. They were quite magnificent, and I congratulated myself that I had chosen just what suited him; and he had the grace to wear them, which was a compliment to me. But how they became him! The trunk-hose were of white satin worked with silver; he wore a collar of gold, diamond studded, and at his knee was the Garter which had been bestowed on him as soon as he arrived in England.
We took our seats in the two chairs which had been placed at the altar. Gardiner was waiting—with Bonner, the Bishop of London, and the Bishops of Durham, Lincoln, Ely and Chichester.
Before the ceremony began, the Regent of Naples declared to the assembly that his Imperial Master, Charles V, had resigned from his kingdom of Naples that his beloved cousin Queen Mary might marry a king.
Then we were married and when the ceremony was over seated ourselves in the chairs of state while the Mass was celebrated.
EVERY DETAIL OF THAT wonderful day stays with me. My memories comfort me when I am most melancholy. I want to keep that day fresh in my mind, for I was never so happy as I was then.
We went back to the Bishop's palace for a banquet. I do not remember what we ate. Philip and I sat side by side. I took covert glances at him, which was foolish of me because I should have known I would be closely watched and everything I did would be reported later. I did wish that my subjects would not be quite so zealous in stressing the point that I was the Queen of this realm and, important as Philip might be in his own country, here he was merely the Queen's consort. Why did they have to make his chair less fine than mine? Why should he be served from silver plate and I from gold? I was fully aware of the cold looks of the Spaniards as they noticed these details.
But I would not let that spoil my pleasure.
When the toasts and expressions of good will toward us were over, Philip and I drank one to the guests; and after that we went to our presence chamber so that the English and Spanish might mingle. Language presented a problem. There was dancing but the Spanish ways were different from ours. I remembered how my father had distinguished himself as the finest of dancers because he could leap higher than anyone else. The Spaniards walked in stately fashion rather than danced, and we English did not call that dancing. I think they were a little taken aback by our cavorting and pirouetting. I had always been fond of dancing and was able somehow to match my steps to Philip's. I have to admit that, stately though he was, he was no great dancer. But I loved him the more for this failing.
The festivities ended earlier than we had expected because of these differences in our speech and customs, and Philip and I were escorted to our separate apartments, where we dined. Afterward we met at the lodging where we were to spend our wedding night. We were taken there by members of the Council, and when they had conducted us to our bedchamber, they left us.
So we were alone together. I was apprehensive, lest I should not please my husband; if I did not, he did not betray it. Never had I imagined such kindness and courtesy. I was ignorant of the ways of married people and had only shadowy notions of what was expected of me. Philip, I knew, was greatly experienced in these matters. He had been married before, and was already a father. But I was as romantic as a young girl. I had lived with dreams.
I thought a great deal about our first encounter later, when he had gone. I wondered what was in his mind. One would never know with Philip. But I shall always remember his kindness to me, his patience with my ignorance.
And I was able to say to myself on that night: This is love.
Waiting for the Child
WHEN I AWOKE NEXT MORNING, IT WAS TO FIND THAT HE was no longer beside me. There was a great commotion outside the door. My women were talking loudly, protesting.
I rose and went out to them.
Several Spanish gentlemen of Philip's entourage were standing there, being held at bay by my valiant ladies. They were trying to explain that it was a breach of etiquette to call on a lady the morning after her wedding.
I said, “I daresay it is a Spanish custom.” I would ask Philip when I saw him.
I could not imagine where he could be. I wondered if I might ask him what induced him to rise so early. I had hoped to wake and find him beside me. But I did not ask him. One did not ask Philip such things. For all my love for him, I felt there was a barrier between us. But I did discover later that it was a Spanish custom for certain gentlemen to come into the bridal chamber after the wedding night in order to congratulate the married pair.
I was learning that the customs of my husband's Court were very different from ours, but at that time I was amused by the differences and told myself how interesting it would be to learn each other's ways.
I was surprised when I did not see Philip all that day. I was told that he was busy attending to dispatches he had received from his father.
It was my duty to meet the wives of the gentlemen who had accompanied him, and I began with the Duchess of Alva. She was very elegant and rather alarmed me by her stately demeanor. But I was in love with all things Spanish. It was natural that I should be. I had Spanish blood in my veins. I remembered snatches of conversation I had shared with my mother years ago. She had been brought up in a Court which must have been very like that in which Philip had lived. I thought of how happy she would be if she could see me now.
The Duchess and I got on very well after a while. I suppose she was as nervous of me as I was of her. I had gone to meet her, which surprised her because she had expected to find me seated, and she did not know how to greet me. She sank to her knees and tried to kiss my hand, but I put my arms round her and kissed her cheek.
I meant to be warm and friendly but my manner seemed to disconcert her; however, after a while we were able to speak in a friendly fashion together.
It was very difficult to break through the solemnity of the Spanish, and I could see that this was going to be a problem with Philip. I could never be sure what he was thinking. He behaved with courtesy and gentleness toward me, yet he was never abandoned, never passionate. If I had not deluded myself, I could have feared that our marriage, our love-making, was to him a task, a duty which must be performed.