It seemed so simple as my inexperienced imagination grappled with the scraps of information I received. I saw the wicked King François, with his long nose and satanic eyes, who had betrayed my father at the Field of the Cloth of Gold, who, all the time he had been professing friendship, was trying to humiliate him, who had greeted him as brother merely because he wanted help against that knight of shining virtue, the Emperor Charles.
In due course Charles arrived in England. It was June, four months after my sixth birthday. I was at Greenwich, in a state of immense excitement because this most wonderful being would in due course arrive here and I should come face to face with him.
The Countess talked continually of him—of what I must do, of how I must not speak unless spoken to. I must practice the virginals, for he would surely wish to hear me play. I danced well, but I must dance better. I must outshine all other dancers. He would be interested in my learning perhaps more than my social graces. He was that sort of man. So I must be at my best in every way. There were discussions with the seamstress. What should I wear for the great occasion?
I was in a fever of excitement.
“The Princess is in love,” giggled the women.
Each day I awaited his arrival and was disappointed.
“Why does he not come?” I demanded of Lady Salisbury.
“Your father will not let him go,” she replied. “You see, the Emperor is a very great ruler. He is as important in his own country as your father is here. They will have much to speak of. Your father will wish to give him great entertainments and, although the Emperor would rather come to see his bride, etiquette demands that he must partake in all the banquets, witness the masques and enjoy the pleasures which have been prepared for him. That is why he cannot come immediately.”
There were accounts of what was happening. London, I heard, was eager to welcome the Emperor. I thought this was because everyone was aware of his excellence. I did not know that our recent friendship with the French had threatened the trade in wool which was our country's greatest export, and that the merchants realized that alliance with the Emperor was more beneficial to us than that with France. I did not know that the Emperor was most anxious for England's support against his enemy King François and that there was nothing more calculated to make firm alliances between countries than marriages. I also did not know that betrothals were undertaken with an ease only to be compared with that with which they were set aside when it was expedient to do so.
How could I at the age of six be expected to know such things? It is only by bitter experience that one learns.
So I listened to the reports of the meeting between my father and the Emperor, and I could visualize the banners in the streets, the Lord Mayor and the Aldermen, so splendidly attired, all the citizens of London, and the King and the Queen riding out to welcome my betrothed, surrounded by their retinue of noblemen, each trying to outdo the others in his glory.
I imagined the pageants, the speeches of welcome, the plays performed for the Emperor's enjoyment. I wished that I could see them: the wonderful tableaux which sprang to life as the Emperor approached, representing the two rulers embracing. There was one, I heard, representing England. It was quite magical. It was of the countryside and depicted birds and animals, and above it was an image of God with a banner proclaiming: “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they are the children of God.”
Every day I heard of the tournaments and masques which were performed for the Emperor's pleasure. They were very extravagant and many of them reviled the wicked French and depicted the determination of the new allies to suppress the sly François.
“The Emperor,” said the Countess, “is a very serious young man. It is said that he would prefer to talk of diplomacy, but the King is determined to show him how he welcomes his friends.”
What the Emperor wanted was something more than a mockery of the French; he wanted more than sympathetic talk; he wanted action from my father; in other words, he wanted the English to declare war on France; and in exchange for this he was ready to be betrothed to the King's daughter.
My mother came to Greenwich. There was great excitement. At last it was about to happen. I was to see my bridegroom.
My mother was all smiles and happiness. She said to me, “He is coming to see you. Your father and he have come to an agreement. All is going well.” Then she took me into her arms. “This is the dearest wish of my life. My dear sister's boy and my own daughter. If I could only tell you what this means to me!”
She was brisk suddenly. “Now we must prepare,” she told me. “We must be ready when he comes. We must not disappoint him. We must make sure that you are all that he has been led to believe you are.”
There was little time left. I practiced the virginals. I danced, twirling as I had never twirled before; and in due course I donned the most splendid garments I had ever worn and was standing beside my mother when the barge containing my betrothed came sailing along the river to Greenwich.
I could hear the music and the cheering of the people on the banks of the river. I felt my mother's reassuring touch on my shoulder.
“Soon now, daughter,” she murmured. “Soon he will be here.”
He stood there beside my father in the barge. The contrast was great. Every man looked insignificant beside my father so I was accustomed to that. In cloth of gold with diamonds in his bonnet my father scintillated; and with him was the Cardinal in his magnificent red. Charles…he was so different. His clothes were black and somber, lightened only by the heavy gold chain about his neck. But when he took off his cap I saw how fair his hair was, and I thought: He is as kingly as my father and he does not need fine clothes to remind people of this. They had told me that I was in love with him and I believed I was. It suddenly seemed to me that there was something more dignified in garments that were somber than those of a gaudy richness. Such thoughts might have been disloyal to my father, but I had to remember that I was in love. I must be, because they had told me so; and I was happy to see my mother so contented.
My mother and he looked at each other in silence for a few moments, then they embraced.
He spoke to her in Spanish and she answered him. There was a trill of happiness in her voice. She told me afterward that meeting him brought back memories of her childhood and her sister and dear mother. His first words were of the happiness it gave him to see his dear aunt and his charming cousin, whom he already loved.
Then he knelt and, as I had been told to do, I stretched out my hand; he took it and kissed it.
I was able to study him. He was tallish, though no man looked tall beside my father. Being so fair, he did not look Spanish. His father had been Austrian and one of the handsomest men in Europe. He had been known as “Philip the Fair.” Charles was very pale, and his eyes were of light blue. His teeth were a little discolored and he had a heavy jaw which I learned he had inherited from the Hapsburgs. He was not handsome after the manner of my father, but his eyes were gentle and his smile told me that he liked me.
My father was watching with good humor, so I knew that all was well. It was a happy time. I played the virginals for him; I danced; and he looked on with approval.
People said: “The Princess is enchanting.”
I suppose those were some of the happiest days of my life.
It seemed that he was with us for a long time. When I look back, I feel sure that he looked without amusement upon those merry masques. When my father entered the great hall in an assumed disguise—as if his royal dignity could ever have been concealed; he was himself and there was none other like him—Charles would rather have been discussing ways of defeating the French than partaking in frivolous dances.