But I was so happy to be involved with a christening, praying all the time that I should soon be more deeply concerned with one nearer to me.
Meanwhile there were more misgivings. I had heard nothing from Philip himself. I had thought that he would write to me, send some token. The uneasy thought came to me that he was having to be persuaded, and I began to fear he might refuse me.
I knew the Emperor wanted the marriage, and that should be good enough. Philip could not disobey him. I did hope that my fears were groundless. I was now deeply in love, although I had never seen Philip. I assured myself that he was all that my romantic heart could desire.
There was whispering among the Council. Where is he? Why does he delay? What does it mean? Is this going to be another of those abortive betrothals? Will the Prince of Spain ever come to England and marry the Queen?
I would not listen to them. There must be some urgent matter which was delaying him. I knew the Emperor was always heavily committed, and naturally he would need the help of his son.
“All will be well,” I said to Susan.
But I could see that she was beginning to look a little worried.
Then, one June day, the Marquis de las Nevas arrived, bringing letters and gifts.
My happiness was complete. He was coming. He would soon be on his way. The weary waiting was over. Soon he would be with me. We should be married, and our happy life together would begin.
There were presents not only for me but for my ladies. There was a necklace of diamonds for me, and with it an enormous diamond with a pearl hanging on a long chain. It was the most exquisite piece of jewelry I had ever seen. I kissed it and told Susan I should love it always because it was a symbol of our love for each other. He also sent me a diamond mounted in gold which had been his mother's, given to her by the Emperor.
“Is it not beautiful?” I cried to Susan. “And doubly dear to me because it belonged to his mother.”
I had his picture. I thought he was wondrously handsome. They told me he was of short stature. Well, so was I, so we should match well together. I had not wanted a giant such as my father had been. Philip had a broad forehead, yellowish hair and beard, and blue eyes which might have been inherited from his Flemish grandfather; that he had the Hapsburg chin was evident.
How happy I was that night as I lay in my bed and thought of the future! There would be no delay now, and soon I should know that happiness for which I had so long yearned.
News followed. He would soon be on his way. Before he left, he spent a little time in Santiago with his son, Don Carlos. How I should have loved to be with them, to meet the boy. Philip would be a good father, I was sure.
It was touching that he had spent those days with his son, for when he was in England he would be separated from him. Perhaps some arrangement could be made. I could not leave the country. That was one of the penalties of queenship. Don Carlos might visit us. I would be a mother to him.
I could scarcely wait. Soon, I kept telling myself. And this time nothing will go wrong. I shall be a happy wife and mother.
At length Philip left his son and set out for Corunna, from whence he would sail for England.
There was trouble. It seemed there always must be. The English thought the Prince should sail in an English ship. This he refused to do and traveled in his own flagship, the Espiritu Santo. It must have looked splendid, upholstered in cloth of gold, displaying his banner. I was apprehensive and prayed that the weather might be calm. My prayers were unanswered, and for a day and night the ship battled against the elements, which must have been a sore trial to Philip, who was wont to be sick at sea. Fortunately in due course the gale abated, and by the time they came into sight of Southampton, the sea was as calm as anyone could wish it to be.
How glad he must have been to be on firm land—and, I hoped, to be brought nearer to me. It was a pity that our Admiral Lord William Howard should have offended him almost immediately. Howard, who prided himself on his bluff frankness, had made some jocular but slighting reference to the Spanish ships. I knew him well. He would have felt impelled to pierce Philip's dignity with what he would call good English humor. Philip would never understand that and would regard Howard's remarks as insulting. Then Sir Anthony Browne presented him with a white horse which I had sent as a gift. It was caparisoned in crimson velvet ornamented with gold. Philip said he would walk, at which Sir Anthony, who was a big man, lifted Philip, who was a small one, onto his horse; and although Sir Anthony kissed the stirrups as a gesture of deference, I cannot think Philip was pleased by the action.
While we were all in a fever of impatience, Philip stayed at Southampton, for the rain fell heavily and incessantly, which made traveling difficult; while there he met members of the Council and the nobility who had been waiting for him.
I feared he was not getting a very good impression of my country; and people were already beginning to say that the rain was sent by God as an omen.
Philip behaved with wonderful charm and astuteness. He must have been aware of the suspicions which were directed against him. I was delighted to hear that he told the Councillors that he had come to England not to enrich himself but because he had been called by divine goodness to be my husband. He wanted to live with me as a right, good and loving prince. He hoped they would accept this; and they had promised to be faithful and loyal to him.
The more I heard of him, the more I loved him, and I rejoiced because soon we should meet.
What was so delightful was that, after his first encounter with Lord William Howard, he made great efforts to establish a good relationship between them. They chatted together, and Philip did all he could to show an appreciation of Howard's jokes—which was noble of him, because they were not noted for their wit. He ordered that beer should be brought because he said that he wished, while he was in England, to adopt our customs.
This greatly pleased everyone, and I was so happy that my bridegroom was making such efforts to be accepted by my people. I knew how stubborn they could be, but I did believe he was beginning to win them to his side.
We were to meet at Winchester. The weather continued to be appalling. The rain was torrential. When Philip left Southampton, he had to borrow a hat and cloak to cover his magnificent apparel, but even this was not adequate to protect him, and he was obliged to stop on the way to change his garments. What he must have thought of our weather, I could not imagine. I hoped he did not notice the murmuring that it meant God disapproved.
Poor Philip, how uncomfortable he must have felt to arrive in Winchester, his beautiful velvet garments splashed with mud and his bedraggled entourage soaked to the skin.
Fortunately it was dusk when he arrived and, because of the weather, there were few to see him. He went to the church, and there it was a different story. People had crowded into the building more to get a glimpse of him than to thank God for his safe, if damp, arrival.
After the service of thanksgiving, he went to the Dean's house close to the church. He was to stay there. I was in the Bishop's palace. I was waiting with great impatience. This was to be the most wonderful moment of my life so far. I was wildly excited, and I could not hide my state. Susan was beside me with some of my other favored ladies. I was aware of their anxious eyes on me.
And then he came… escorted by a few of the Spanish nobles who had accompanied him.
My heart leaped with joy at the sight of him. Small he undoubtedly was, and slight, but I had been warned of this, and it mattered not at all. He was wearing a doublet and trunks of spotless white kid. His surcoat was white and silver decorated with gold and silver thread-work. His cap matched it, and in this was a long white feather.
As he came toward me, I was conscious of his handsome looks, his youth, and I was filled with apprehension because I was eleven years older than he and doubtless looked it, particularly after all the trials of the last year. How did I look in my black velvet gown, my petticoat of frosted silver, my headdress of black velvet lined with gold? Was I too somber? Was he going to be disappointed in me? Never had I prayed so fervently that this might not be so.