As soon as we alighted we were greeted by crowds of cheering people, and this continued throughout the journey to London.
“One of the first things we must do,” said Henry, “is to have you crowned. It will then be seen that you are the Queen in very truth.”
It was shortly after my landing on English soil that I was crowned in Westminster Abbey. There was not much time to prepare, but by now I had learned that, with Henry, everything had to be done with the utmost speed. I often thought of how my mother would have reveled in preparing me for that great event. Instead of which I had only three busy weeks in which to make myself ready.
I went from the Palace of Westminster to the Abbey, where I was crowned by the Archbishop. It was a solemn and impressive ceremony, as coronations must be. I was too moved and overwhelmed to remember all the people around me.
The banquet which followed remains more memorable to me. I think that was because of the people I met there.
There was the Duke of Gloucester, that Humphrey whom I had already met briefly, and of whom I had heard so much. He had arranged the feast and he stood bareheaded before me. We surveyed each other with the utmost interest. He was good-looking—rather like Henry; he had great charm; and I could see, by the way his eyes appeared to take in every detail of my appearance, that he was attempting to assess me in many ways. I supposed he was thinking that as the King’s wife I would have some influence with him; he was wondering, I guessed, to what use I would put it. He studied me with other objects in mind and I thought I detected faintly lecherous lights in his eyes. My opinion that I would have to be watchful of Humphrey was confirmed.
Another who interested me was Henry Beaufort, Bishop of Winchester. Margaret had mentioned him to me in my conversations with her, and I knew of his connection with the royal family. He was a brilliant man, a son of John of Gaunt, himself a son of Edward III, and Katherine Swynford, whom John of Gaunt had eventually married, after she had been his mistress for several years. The children had all been legitimized when the marriage took place. They were clever and ambitious and, Margaret said, the rest of the family was inclined to look down on them as, although made legitimate, they had been born out of wedlock. There had been trouble between Henry Beaufort and Gloucester and I was sure resentment lingered.
Another whom I met on that occasion was James I of Scotland, who was Henry’s prisoner and had been in a kind of captivity for the last seventeen years. He was treated with the respect due to a king, but he was a prisoner nonetheless. He was handsome and charming and he did not seem as though he were a captive. I wanted to know more about him and I decided I would ask Henry at an appropriate moment.
The banquet was sumptuous, but as we were in Lent it consisted mainly of fish; the only diversion from the Lenten abstention was brawn served with mustard.
As I looked at that table weighed down with fish of all kinds—soles, crayfish, lobster, roach, lampreys, congers and other varieties—my thoughts temporarily flashed back to those days in the Hôtel de St.-Paul, where there was only a crust or two to be shared by six hungry children.
The table had been decorated with tableaux, all bearing some significance to the occasion. There was one of St. Katherine, my patron saint, discoursing with doctors, and in the right hand of the statue of the saint was a scroll on which was written in gold letters “Madame la Reine.” There were others depicting Henry as the conqueror of France.
I was exhilarated and happier than I had ever been before. I believed that I had escaped from my troubled country forever and that my marriage was one of those romances which began in strife and ended in happiness ever after.
It was wonderful to be given such homage; I, the daughter of the defeated King, to be showered with blessings by my wise and all-conquering husband!
It was even more wonderful to be alone with Henry afterward. He was pleased with the day’s proceedings and, I think, delighted to see me overwhelmed by the welcome and honors I had received.
I wanted to talk to him. I wanted to tell him of what I had endured in the Hôtel de St.-Paul, to make him see those cold and hungry children, wondering about that wild man, our father, who was confined close to us.
I could not believe all this had happened to that frightened little girl. But here I was…Queen of England…beloved by her husband and his people. It seemed too wonderful to be true.
He embraced me with passion, and it was not the time for talking of such things.
I was too excited to sleep; and I think he was too. We lay side by side in the stillness. I reached for his hand.
I felt a great desire then to learn something of the people whom I had met at the banquet. There were so few occasions when it was possible to talk to Henry of such things.
“Are you happy, Kate?” he asked.
“Beyond all my dreams,” I answered.
“Then so am I.”
“It is wonderful that you came into my life. You have carried me away from all the strife…all the fears…everything that made life so…uneasy.”
“That is what I intended to do. Shall you be happy in England, Kate?”
“If you are with me.”
He pressed my hand and there was silence.
After a while, I said: “Tell me about the King of Scotland.”
“James? A pleasant enough fellow.”
“He seemed…quite charming…and not like a prisoner.”
“He has been with us for many years. It must be seventeen years since he was captured.”
“Seventeen years a prisoner?”
“He’s better off here than in his own land. When we took him, his life would not have been worth much if we had sent him back. Warring uncles, you know.”
“I do know…indeed.”
“A child king…that is one of the worst ills which can befall a country. Let us thank God that you and I are young. We’ll have sons…many of them…as my father did. See how useful my brothers are to me. But to be a child and a king…that means trouble. There are too many seeking to rule…fighting each other. You know that, with your Armagnacs and Burgundians. There’s nothing unusual in it, Kate. It was the natural course of affairs…So we must get to it. Let us get sons…we must waste no time.”
I was happy that night, but the next day Henry said: “I must get up to the north. There is a little trouble there. I have been away too long.”
“When do we leave?”
“I shall go today and you will stay here for a while. You will be more comfortable here.”
“Without you?”
“It is not for long. Just a short trip up to the north. I shall have to go to France soon and I shall have to replenish the army. Money, Kate. That is what I need and it has to come from the people. So to the north first to settle them down…and then to the countryside to show myself as the conqueror, the King of France to be. I want to show them how their money is spent. They love victories. Well, praise God! I have had some of those.”
“So you will go as a soldier…not as a husband.”
He slapped his thigh and laughed. “There you have it, Kate. That’s the answer.”
I was bitterly disappointed. All the euphoria of last night had gone. I knew I had hoped for too much. He would constantly be going off and I should have to face long periods without him. It was my fate and I should have to accept it.
Before he went, he said: “I’ll be with you by Easter, Kate. We’ll celebrate the feast together.”
I felt lonely without him and with only Guillemote—how thankful I was that I had been able to bring her with me!—and the few friends I had been able to make since my arrival to keep me company. It was so different from what I had hoped.