“He did—under duress. He protested on the grounds that she was five years his senior, and he quoted the Bible, I believe. No good could come of such a marriage, he said. But it was his father who forced the protest from him. Young Henry, it seems, always had a mild fancy for the Spanish lady; and his father was pleased that this should be so, for you'll remember, only half of her magnificent dowry had fallen into his hands and he greatly longed to possess himself of the other half.”
“I know. I know. And when the old King decided he would marry Katharine's sister Juana, he felt that, if father and son married sisters, the relationship would be a complicated and unpleasant one. I doubt not that he thought it better to secure Juana's great riches than the remaining half of Katharine's dowry.”
“That was so. Therefore young Henry, whatever his private desires, must protest against his betrothal to his brothers widow.”
“Still, he made the protest,” said Colet.
“A boy of fifteen!”
“It was after the protest, so I hear, that he began to fall in love in earnest with his brother's widow. The toy had been offered him; he thought little of it; it was only when there was an attempt to snatch it from him that he determined to hold it. And now he declares nothing will turn him from the match, for she is the woman of his fancy.”
“Well, she is a good Princess,” said Thomas, “and a comely one. She will provide England with a good Queen. That will suffice.”
“It will, my friend. It must. Do not forget it is the King's wish. There is no law in this land but the King's pleasure. And it will be well for us to remember that this King—be he ever so young and handsome—like his father, is a Tudor King.”
And Margaret, listening, wondered whether fear had entirely left her. This King—young and handsome though he was—might not give back to the people the money his father had taken from them; he wished to marry his brother's widow mainly because his father had said he should not. Would he prove to be such a good King after all? Could she be happy? Could she be reassured that her father was safe?
ONE EVENT took place which seemed to the family as important as the accession of the new King to the throne.
Little Jack was born.
Jane was happy. A boy at last! She had always wanted a boy; and right from the first she saw that the boy was going to resemble the Colts.
He had her father's nose already; he had Jane's eyes; and she loved him dearly. But his birth had taken its toll of her health. She was ill for many weeks after Jack was born; and when she got up from her bed she felt far weaker than she had been after her previous confinements.
Still, she was happy. She would not have believed five years ago that she could have been so happy in this old City. London now meant home to her; she even enjoyed walking through the crowds to the Chepe, her maid following her, ordering from the tradespeople. She was not afraid of crowds now; nor was she afraid of Thomas. She had even learned a little Latin, and she could join in the children's conversations with their father.
Sometimes she regretted the fact that not one of her children was a simple little soul such as she herself had been; for even baby Cecily was showing that she would be a little scholar. Yet, thought Jane, I am glad that they are clever. They will not suffer as I suffered; and how sad it would be for one of them to be a dullard in the midst of so many that are brilliant—like a sad piglet in a litter. I should not like that at all. No, let them all be clever; even though they do surpass their mother, even though they must, as they grow up, look upon her as a simpleton.
There was great excitement because the King and the Queen, whom he had married a few days before, were going to be crowned; and London was in Coronation mood. There was no talk but of the accession, the royal marriage, and the Coronation, and all the streets were now being decorated for the last ceremony. Cornhill, the richest street in London, was hung with cloth of gold, and was a sight to gladden any eye, so Jane was told; she had felt too weak to go and see it for herself, but she had promised the children that she would take them to watch the progress of die King and Queen, and nothing would induce her to disappoint them.
Thomas could not accompany them; he had his duties allotted to him as a burgess of the Parliament; and so, on that sunny June day, leaving the newly born baby in the care of a nurse, with Cecily clinging to one hand, Elizabeth to the other, and Margaret and Mercy hand in hand, the little party set out to watch the King with the Queen ride through the streets from the Tower to Westminster for the crowning.
Jane had decided that Cornhill would be the best place in which to see the procession, for accounts of the beauties of Corn-hill had been spread through the City. Moreover, they had but to go through Walbrook, cross the Stocks Market to the corner where Lombard Street and Cornhill met.
But Jane had reckoned without the crowds. Everyone, it seemed, had decided that this would be the best place from which to see the procession.
Jane felt weak and tired and the heat was making her dizzy. There was nothing she would have liked better than to take her party home; but when she looked at the excited faces of the children, she found it impossible to disappoint them.
“Keep close to me,” she warned. “Margaret, you keep your eyes on Cecily. And Mercy … take Bess's hand. Now … keep very close. How hot it is! And so many people!”
“Mother,” cried Elizabeth, “look at the beautiful cloth. Is it real gold? They art goldsmiths' shops, are they not? So perhaps it is real gold.”
“Yes, yes; they are beautiful,” said Jane.
Cecily wanted one of the hot pies which were being sold nearby. Elizabeth said she would prefer gingerbread.
“Now, now,” said Jane. “You will miss the King if you do not watch.”
That made the children forget their hunger.
But there was a long time to wait for the procession. The sun seemed to grow hotter; Jane felt faint as the crowds pressed about her. She became very frightened, asking herself what would happen to the children in this press of people if she were to faint. Her very panic seemed to revive her.
She lost her purse before they had stood there for ten minutes. The thief must have been the young boy who had pressed against her and given her such an angelic smile of apology that she had thought how charming he was.
She should not have come. She should have told Thomas of her intention. Why had she not? Because, she supposed, there were times when she wished to assert her authority over her little family, to say to them: “I know I am not wise, but I am the mother, and there are times when I wish to make my own decisions. I wish to say that something shall be done and to see that you do it.”
How glad she was when the sound of trumpets and the tramp of horses' hoofs heralded the approach of the procession. The people shouted; the children stood spellbound. And as die excitement grew Jane felt a little better. There had not been much in her purse, and this would be a lesson to her. She would quote Thomas and say: “Experience is generally worth the price, however dearly bought.”
Now came the knights and squires and the lords of the land—so handsome, some magnificent in their velvet and cloth of gold. But more handsome than any was the King himself. There he rode, so young, so eager for the approbation of his subjects, smiling, inclining his head, aglitter with jewels. It was worth a little discomfort, even the loss of her purse, to witness such glory.
And there was the Queen—a bride of a few days although she was a widow of some years' standing. She was in her twenties—too old, some said, for such a hearty youth; but she was beautiful—there was no denying that Her dark hair, which it was said, hung to her feet when she stood, now hung about her shoulders, a black, gleaming cloak; she was dressed in white satin, beautifully embroidered, and her headdress was glittering with multicolored jewels. Two white horses bore her litter, which was decorated; and cries of “God Save Queen Katharine” mingled with those of “God Bless die King.”