Mary Tudor - Anna Whitelock [4]
PART ONE
A King’s Daughter
CHAPTER 1
PRINCESS OF ENGLAND
MARY, THE DAUGHTER OF KING HENRY VIII AND KATHERINE OF Aragon, was born at four in the morning of Monday, February 18, 1516, at Placentia, the royal palace at Greenwich, on the banks of the Thames River in London. Three days later, the nobility of England gathered at the royal apartments to form a guard of honor as the baby emerged from the queen’s chamber in the arms of Katherine’s devoted friend and lady-in-waiting, Elizabeth Howard, countess of Surrey. Beneath a gold canopy held aloft by four knights of the realm, the infant was carried to the nearby Church of the Observant Friars.1 It was the day of Mary’s baptism, her first rite of passage as a royal princess.
The procession of gentlemen, ladies, earls, and bishops paused at the door of the church, where, in a small arras-covered wooden archway, Mary was greeted by her godparents, blessed, and named after her aunt, Henry’s favorite sister. The parade then filed two by two into the church, which had been specially adorned for the occasion. Jewel-encrusted needlework hung from the walls; a font, brought from the priory of Christchurch Canterbury and used only for royal christenings, had been set on a raised and carpeted octagonal stage, with the accoutrements for the christening—basin, tapers, salt, and chrism—laid out on the high altar.2 After prayers were said and promises made, Mary was plunged three times into the font water, anointed with the holy oil, dried, and swaddled in her baptismal robe. As Te Deums were sung, she was taken up to the high altar and confirmed under the sponsorship of Margaret Pole, countess of Salisbury.3 Finally, with the rites concluded, her title was proclaimed to the sound of the heralds’ trumpets:
God send and give long life and long unto the right high, right noble and excellent Princess Mary, Princess of England and daughter of our most dread sovereign lord the King’s Highness.4
Despite the magnificent ceremony, the celebrations were muted. This was not the longed-for male heir, but a girl.
SIX YEARS EARLIER, in the Church of the Observant Friars, Henry had married his Spanish bride, Katherine of Aragon. Within weeks of the wedding, Katherine was pregnant and Henry wrote joyfully to his father-in-law, Ferdinand of Aragon, proclaiming the news: “Your daughter, her Serene Highness the Queen, our dearest consort, has conceived in her womb a living child and is right heavy therewith.”5 Three months later, as England awaited the birth of its heir, Katherine miscarried. Yet the news was not made public, and with her belly still swollen, most likely with an infection, she was persuaded by her physician that she “remained pregnant of another child.”6 A warrant was issued for the refurbishment of the royal nursery, and in March 1511 she withdrew to her apartments in advance of the birth.7
For weeks the court waited for news of the delivery, but labor did not come. As Katherine’s confessor, Fray Diego, reported, “it has pleased our Lord to be her physician in such a way that the swelling decreased.”8 There was no baby. Luiz Caroz, the new Spanish ambassador, angrily condemned those who had maintained “that a menstruating woman was pregnant” and had made her “withdraw publicly for her delivery.”9 Many councillors now feared that the queen was “incapable of conceiving.”10 Fearing her father’s displeasure, Katherine wrote to Ferdinand in late May, four months after the event, claiming that only “some days before” she had miscarried a daughter and failing to mention the subsequent false pregnancy. Do “not be angry,” she begged him, “for it has been the will of God.”11
Hope soon revived, and while writing letters of deceit to her father, Katherine discovered she was pregnant once more.12 Seven months later, on the morning of New Year’s Day, bells rang out the news of the safe delivery of a royal baby. It was a living child and a son; England had its male heir. Celebrations engulfed the court and country, and