There was a reason for this. As though to crown his happiness she had been able to give him, some few weeks before, the news which he had so wished to hear.
“Henry,” she had said, her eyes alight with happiness, “there can be no doubt that I am with child.”
Then he had embraced her and told her that there was only one regret in his life; that to make this holy war on France he must leave her.
“You must take care of yourself, Kate,” he had said. “Remember in this fair body lies the heir of England.”
She had sworn to take the utmost care.
Then he had requested her to be present at the meeting of the Council, and there he had announced that since he must go away he must appoint a Regent to govern the land in his absence.
“I have given this matter great thought. I have prayed for guidance, and I am leaving you the best and only possible Regent.” There was the pause for dramatic effect; then the little eyes, shining with sentiment, were on Katharine.
“Gentlemen of the Council, your Regent during my absence will be Her Grace the Queen.”
She had been overcome with joyful emotion, and she thought, as she did on all such occasions, If only my mother could be with me now!
So she was to be Regent during his absence. She was to have a Council to help her, should she need their help. The King had chosen the Archbishop of Canterbury, Thomas Lovell, and the Earl of Surrey. The Earl had been allowed to return to Court for Henry was in a mellow mood. Many of his most able statesmen were accompanying him to France, and Surrey who, in spite of his arrogance, was a man of experience, could be more useful at Court than skulking in the country, perhaps planning mischief. So back to Court came the Earl—although Thomas Wolsey had discreetly tried to advise the King against the old man’s recall. Henry did not accept Wolsey’s advice, and Wolsey was too clever to press it.
So they had ridden into Dover, up the steep hill to the Castle, there to rest awhile until the expedition was ready to sail.
THE KING WAS now ready to embark. Beside him were the most courageous of his knights, men such as Brandon, Compton, Sir John Seymour, Sir Thomas Parr and Sir Thomas Boleyn. There was the indefatigable Thomas Wolsey determined to keep a wary eye on food supplies and equipment, not forgetting to glance with the faintest hint of triumph at the Earl of Surrey who was with those who remained behind.
There on Dover strand the King had decided a ceremony should take place. He wanted all his subjects to know in what affection he held his Queen; and when before them all he took her into his arms and kissed her loudly on both cheeks, a cheer went up, for the people never loved their King so much as when he, sparkling with the glitter of royalty, showed them that he was at heart an ordinary family man.
Then he took Katharine’s hand and addressed the assembly.
“My subjects, my friends, you see me about to depart on a holy war. I grieve to leave my country but it is God’s will that I should cross the sea to bring back to you that of which the French have robbed us. On this fine day you can see the coast of France; my town of Calais lies across the sea and I am now about to set out for that town. From there I shall seek to win back my rights and your rights. But while I am engaged on this duty I do not forget my people at home, so I leave you one who, I hope, is almost as dear to you as she is to me—my wife, your Queen. My friends, when I go aboard, when I set sail, Queen Katharine becomes the Governor of this Realm and Captain General of the forces for home defense.”
As he took Katharine’s hand and kissed it, another cheer went up.
He looked into her face and his eyes were glazed with tenderness and the pleasure he felt in scenes such as this.
“Farewell, my Kate. I will return with rich conquests. Guard yourself well…and that other.”
“I will, my King,” she answered.
A last embrace, and to the fanfares of trumpets he went abroad.
Katharine stood, with those who were remaining behind, on Dover strand, watching the glittering fleet as it set sail for France.
She was praying for Henry’s safety, for divine guidance that she might carry out her duties in a manner worthy of the daughter of Isabella of Castile.
She determined to surprise the King with her ability to govern; she was going to show him that if at one time she had sought to win advantages for Spain, she no longer did so; for there was only one country which she now called her own; and that was England.
Yet the real reason for her exultation lay within her own body. The child! This child must come forth from her womb, strong and healthy; and when he did come he must not be allowed to die.
There must not be another disaster. If such a calamity should befall her, all the affection of the last weeks, all the love and devotion which the King had sworn he bore her, would be as lightly swept away as the gaudy paper decorations after a masque.
Henry at War
BY THE TIME THE KING’S FLEET HAD REACHED CALAIS THE rain had begun to fall. This was disappointing as the cloth of gold and rich brocade trappings lost some of their dazzle in the downpour.
Henry was cheerful, however, determined to show his men that he was ready for any adversity, so certain of success that he was not going to be downcast by a little rain.
Then tents were set up; the army encamped; and on that first night, the King, his garments soaked, made the rounds of the camp like a practiced commander. He laughed at the rain and he made his men do the same.
“We are not the men to let a wetting disturb our spirits. We’ll snap our fingers at the weather as we will at that old rogue, the King of France.”
The men were cheered by the sight of him—pink cheeked, ruddy haired and full of health and high spirits.
Nor was the end of his endeavors for when he returned to his tent he did not take off his clothes.
“If this rain continues to fall,” he told his companions, “the Watch will be in poor spirits as the night progresses. I have heard how Henry V before Agincourt went among his men to comfort them. I will show my soldiers that they have as good a leader in me as the victors of Agincourt had in that other Henry.”
It was three o’clock when the King, still in his damp clothes, made the rounds of the camp.
He found the Watch disconsolate. In the darkness they did not recognize the figure on horseback immediately and Henry heard them, cursing the weather and talking of the warm beds in England which might have been theirs.
“Ay,” said the King, “warm English beds sound even more inviting than they are in reality—when remembered under the rain of other lands.”
“Your Grace!”
“Have no fear,” said Henry. “I myself was thinking of my own bed and the comforts and pleasures I might have been enjoying there. We are of a kind, my friends. Men, all of us. It is understandable that our thoughts turn to the comforts of home. But be of good cheer. You see, I, like you, am damp from the rain. I suffer all that you suffer. That is how I would have it. My men and their King are together in this war. He never forgets it; nor should you; and if we have been made to suffer in the beginning, fortune promises us better things, God willing.”
“Amen,” murmured the men. And then: “God bless Your Grace!” Smiling, Henry rode back to his own tent. He was not displeased with the rain which had enabled him to show his men that he was with them to take part in their misfortunes and give them a share in his triumphs.
IN THE MORNING the rain was over and the sun shone brilliantly. The King was in high spirits and he told himself that he could not leave his good people of Calais before he had made them gay with certain masques and joustings, so that they might see something of the skill which their King and his men would display in battle.