“Within the church of St. Paul’s was erected a platform or stage, six
feet high, and extending from the west door to the uppermost step of
the choir; in the middle of this platform was a high stand like a
mountain, which was ascended on every side with steps covered over with
red worsted.
“Against this mountain on the north side was ordained a standing for
the king and his friends; and upon the south side was erected another
standing, which was occupied by the Lord Mayor and Aldermen of London.
“Then, upon the fourteenth of November, being Sunday, Prince Arthur
and the Infanta Catharine, both clad in white satin, ascended the
mountain, one on the north and the other on the south side, and were
there married by the Archbishop of Canterbury, assisted by nineteen
bishops and abbots. The king and the queen and the king’s mother stood
in the place aforenamed, where they heard and beheld the solemnization,
which, being finished, the archbishop and bishops took their way from
the mountain across the platform, which was covered under foot with
blue ray cloth, into the choir, and so to the high altar. The prelates
were followed by the bride and bridegroom. The Princess Cecily bore
the train of the bride, and after her followed one hundred ladies and
gentlewomen in right costly apparel. Then the Mayor, in a gown of
crimson velvet, and his brethren in scarlet, went and sat in the choir
whilst mass was said. The Archbishop of York sat in the dean’s place
and made the chief offering, and after him came the Duke of Buckingham.
The mass being finished, Arthur publicly dowered his bride, at the
church door, with one-third of his income as Prince of Wales; and
afterwards the prince and princess were conducted in grand procession
out of church into the bishop’s palace, where a grand feast was
prepared, to which the Lord Mayor and Aldermen were invited.
“The city functionaries were served with plate valued at one thousand
two hundred pounds, but the plate off which the princess dined was
of solid gold, ornamented with pearls and precious stones, and worth
twenty thousand pounds.
“It was wonderful to behold the costly apparel and the massive chains
of gold worn on that day. Sir Thomas Brandon, the master of the king’s
horse, wore a gold chain, valued at one thousand four hundred pounds.
Rivers, the master of the king’s hawks, wore a chain worth one thousand
pounds, and many of the other chains worn were worth from two to three
hundred pounds each. The Duke of Buckingham wore a robe of the most
beautiful needle-work, wrought upon cloth of gold tissue and furred
with sable, worth one thousand five hundred pounds; and Sir Nicholas
Vaux wore a gown of purple velvet, so thickly ornamented with pieces of
massive gold that the gold alone, independent of the silk and fur, was
worth one thousand pounds.”
In honor of this marriage, tournaments, and festivals, and most
gorgeous pageants, followed by banquets and grand balls, were
celebrated for many days.
But clouds soon gathered around Catharine. In about four months after
the marriage, while Prince Arthur and Catharine were residing at the
Castle of Ludlow, in Wales, the young prince sickened and died; and
the poor young princess was left a widow in a strange land. Catharine
was now escorted back to London, where she was received with kindness
by Queen Elizabeth, her mother-in-law. But the kind queen died in
two years and Catharine’s troubles began regarding her great dower.
Her father, Ferdinand of Spain, had promised to give as a marriage
settlement two hundred thousand crowns. Only one instalment of this had
been paid, and until the whole amount was received, Henry VII. refused
to allow his daughter-in-law the revenue Arthur had given her as her
marriage gift.
And now began intrigues and quarrels over this poor little widow of
sixteen. First King Henry VII. determined to marry her himself, but
this proposal Catharine would not accept. Next it was proposed to
marry her to the king’s son Henry, now become Prince of Wales. As
this proposition was not refused by Ferdinand and Isabella of Spain,
the helpless young stranger was obliged to submit, and as her father
would not pay her dower until the matter was settled, and as her
father-in-law would not allow her the revenue from her late young
husband, the poor little princess was reduced to great extremities. She
needed clothes, she had no means of paying her servants, and neither
king seemed to have pity upon her. Her mother, Isabella of Spain,
sympathized deeply with the sorrows of her child, but she was now dying
and could do little to help her.
At length it was decided that Catharine, now nineteen years of age,
should be betrothed to Henry, who was then fourteen. But before this
marriage was consummated, Isabella of Spain had breathed her last. Well
for her mother-heart that she did not know the terrible trials in store
for her beloved child, consequent upon this unfortunate marriage!
The death of King Henry VII. in 1509, prevented all display upon the
occasion of this second marriage of Catharine of Aragon, which occurred
at Greenwich Palace, June 11, 1509, just three months after the death
of Henry VII. From various records it is evident that Henry VIII.
loved his wife Catharine quite devotedly at this time. In his letter to
his bride’s father he wrote, “that if Catharine and he were still free,
he would choose her for his wife before all other women.”
The long-disputed marriage portion was now paid by Ferdinand of Spain,
and Queen Catharine, in writing to him, tells of her joy in at last
being able to pay her ladies their salaries which had been so long due.
In 1510, a prince was born, but he lived but a few days, much to the
sorrow of King Henry and Queen Catharine. Another baby prince also died
before the birth of the Princess Mary, in 1516.
“The reign of Henry VIII. is characterized by three great movements,
which have all left a profound impression upon the destinies of
England: the religious reform; the establishment of the absolute power
of the crown in principle and often in practice; the social and even
political progress of the nation, notwithstanding great outbursts of
tyranny on the part of the government, and of servility on the part of
the people. The history of this reign is naturally divided into two
periods: Henry VIII. under the influence of Wolsey, his favorite and
soon his prime minister; Henry VIII. alone, after the disgrace and
death of Wolsey.”
Of course, regarding this political aspect of this epoch in history,
we can make little or no mention in this short sketch of Catharine of
Aragon.
Wolsey, “the Ipswich butcher’s son, the politician priest,” became the
chief favorite of Henry and Catharine, although, after he had been the
means of securing the execution of the queen’s friend, Buckingham,
Catharine was opposed to him.
[Illustration: HENRY VIII.
After the painting by Hans Holbein in the possession of His Majesty,
the King of England, at Windsor Castle.]
We must not pass over the meeting of the French and English
sovereigns upon the famous “Field of the Cloth of Gold.” This occurred
in 1520, at Ardres, a small town near Calais. A very magnificently
decorated palace had been prepared for the English king. It was built
of wood, and adorned with gigantic figures, representing savages
armed with spears and arrows, bearing Henry’s device, “_Cui adhaereo
praestat_” (He whom I support prevails).
Fountains of red and white wine played constantly before this sumptuous
abode of the English king, which was adorned with costly tapestries and
magnificent gold and silver plate.
A gorgeous tent of cloth of gold had been prepared for the meeting of
the two sovereigns. It was ornamented with blue velvet studded with
stars, fastened with silken cords mixed with Cyprian gold. Into this
glistening pavilion the two kings walked arm in arm; and thereupon
began a round of feasting, drinking, music, dancing, and amusements,
which lasted a fortnight. The extravagant splendor of this occasion has
become renowned; and, in the midst of all these licentious revelries,
Cardinal Wolsey celebrated high mass with imposing pageantry. It is
recorded that it took years for the estates of many a nobleman to
recover from the loans contracted to make a good appearance upon this
famous Field of the Cloth of Gold.
In 1521 Henry VIII. determined to defend the Catholic faith against
the attacks of Martin Luther. King Henry had no other weapon to use
against the monk except his pen. Whereupon Henry published “A Defence
of the Seven Sacraments against Martin Luther.” This was gorgeously
bound, and presented with much ceremony to Pope Leo X. Thereupon the
royal author received the title, from the holy father, of “Defender
of the Faith,” of which title the royal hypocrite made strange use
afterwards. Meanwhile, the haughty Cardinal Wolsey became more arrogant
and overbearing. Having the royal ear, even princes and nobles fawned
upon him in menial attentions, and high titled lords served the pompous
cardinal on their knees, and deemed it a privilege to do his august
bidding. But Wolsey’s fall was soon to come, and would be as direful as
his power was now ascendant.
In 1522 the beautiful Anne Boleyn was recalled from France to England,
and became one of Queen Catharine’s maids of honor. From this time
troubles fell thick and heavy upon the poor queen, who was herself a
faithful wife and loving mother, and was, moreover, self-denying and
devout. And, strange as it may appear, up to this time, such had been
the life of King Henry and Queen Catharine that they had become famous
as a pattern couple; and the celebrated Erasmus had said of them: “What
household is there, among the subjects of their realms, that can offer
an example of such united wedlock? Where can a wife be found better
matched with the best of husbands?”
We can hardly imagine the atrocious Henry VIII. ever to have been
worthy of such commendation. After being married for seventeen years
to his devoted Catharine, this prince of hypocrites is all at once
troubled with most grievous qualms of conscience. For seven years he
had been flirting with the pretty Anne Boleyn; even from the momentous
time when he had noticed her dancing at the festivals attending the
celebrated occasion of the Field of the Cloth of Gold. But not until
1527 did this conscience-troubled king declare publicly his very
serious doubts as to the validity of his marriage with Catharine, who
had been previously married to his elder brother Arthur. His pretended
scruples were now confided to Cardinal Wolsey, who advised the king
to sue for a divorce. This welcome advice the royal hypocrite most
sanctimoniously declared to be most _bitter_ for him to follow, but
nevertheless, for his conscience’ sake, he was ready to make this
enormous sacrifice.
The famous divorce court at Blackfriars was not held until June 18,
1529. But the conscience-stricken, atrocious dissembler meanwhile used
his utmost influence in church and state to force priests and people to
confirm his royal pretended scruples; and earls, bishops, cardinals,
and popes, were called upon to confirm and applaud his most holy zeal,
in thus sacrificing his supposed heart’s ease for the ease of his
terribly burdened conscience. Meanwhile, the poor, neglected, faithful
wife was openly and shamelessly discarded for the smiles of the new
beauty, who had ensnared the fancy of this most atrocious of religious
humbugs.
To allay somewhat the fretful anxieties consequent upon the long delay
required to bring right-minded men to second his infamous designs,
the royal author found solace in his literary occupations, hurling
anathemas against the undaunted Luther, ostensibly in defence of that
Church whose Pope he wished to influence in favor of his own guilty
schemes; but soon this apparently zealous defender of the Romish Church
was uncloaked, and he defied even the Pope himself, who dared to
denounce his infamous divorce.
We cannot give in detail these stirring but disgraceful scenes. Poor
Catharine, a stranger in a strange land, having lost both father
and mother, had none to defend her against the calumnies which her
inhuman husband sought to fasten upon her, but which her blameless life
rendered utterly harmless.
King Henry VIII. had taken very good care to make very specious excuses
for the divorce. As six children had been born and none had lived
beyond infancy, except the Princess Mary, he declared that he found
proof of the wrath of God in these bereavements, because he had married
his brother’s widow. And this prince of dissemblers declared in a great
meeting of his nobles, councillors, and judges, whom he had assembled
in the great chamber of his palace at Bridewell, that, “As touching
the queen, if it be adjudged by the law of God that she is my lawful
wife, there was never anything more acceptable to me in my life, both
for the discharge of my conscience and also for her sake; for I assure
you all that, apart from her noble parentage, she is a woman of great
virtue, gentleness, and humility. Of all good qualities appertaining
to nobility, she is without comparison; and if I were to marry again,
presuming the marriage to be good, I would choose her before all other
women.” And yet this same ostentatious pattern of perfection and
hypocritical religious cant afterwards beheaded the illustrious Sir
Thomas More, because he would not sanction the infamous repudiation
of the faithful Catharine. And this same pretended Defender of the
Church, even though the Pope was hurling from the Vatican his spiritual
thunders of excommunication for the sin of renouncing the devoted and
blameless Queen Catharine, defiantly married Anne Boleyn, even before
the divorce had been fully consummated.
In 1529 Queen Catharine was summoned into court to meet her public
sentence. When the crier called, “Henry, king of England, come into
court,” he answered from his royal seat of state, in loud tones,
“Here,” and thereupon proceeded to make known his many troubles
regarding his tender conscience and religious scruples, which so sore
distressed his royal mind; ending in a panegyric upon the many virtues
of his beloved wife, Catharine, from whom none other cause than his
afflicted conscience would ever have forced him to consent to part.
After this arch-traitor to all domestic faithfulness had thus relieved
his burdened heart, the crier summoned, “Catharine, queen of England.”
Taking no notice of the surrounding legates, the sorrowful queen rose
with graceful dignity, and, followed by her ladies, she went round
about the court, even to where the king sat, and kneeling at his feet
she thus pathetically addressed him, with quaint foreign accent and
persuasive voice: “Sir, I beseech you, for the love of God, let me have
some justice. Take some pity on me, a poor stranger in your dominions;
I have no counsellor in this land, and, as you are the head of justice
in your realm, I flee to you. Alas! I take God to witness that for
these twenty years I have been to you a true, humble, and obedient
wife. And if our children have died, it has not been for the want of a
mother’s love or care. The king, your father, was accounted a second
Solomon for wisdom, and my father, Ferdinand, was deemed one of the
wisest kings of Spain; and they had counsellors as wise as those of
these days, and they all, verily, thought our marriage good and lawful.
Therefore I marvel greatly at the inventions now brought against me. If
you have found any dishonor in my conduct, then am I content to depart;
but if none there be, then I beseech you thus humbly to let me remain
in my proper state.”
The queen then rose up in tears, and making a low obeisance to the
king, she walked out of court; nor would she return, even though the
crier again called her name. Nor would she ever more attend these evil
councils, but waited in patient silence the coming of her dread doom.
Nor did she display any enmity to the boastful Anne Boleyn, who did
most indecently declare her growing power over the fickle fancies of
the cruel king. Save only on one occasion, did Queen Catharine give to
her intimation that she was aware of her ambitious views. The queen was
once playing cards with Anne Boleyn, when she thus addressed her: “My
lady Anne, you have the good hap ever to stop at a king; but you are
like others, you will have all or none.”
At length, as Queen Catharine would not again appear in court, although
several times summoned by the loud voice of the crier, King Henry,
in his rage, sent Cardinal Wolsey and others to the queen, to have a
private interview with her. Catharine was engaged with her ladies in
needlework at the time, to while away her tedious hours, for the cruel
king had removed the Princess Mary from her mother, nor would any tears
avail the lonely, neglected wife, though she wrote most tender letters
to the king begging him to let her behold her child. As the prelates
entered the apartment where Queen Catharine and her ladies were
occupied with their embroidery, the queen rose to meet them, having a
skein of white silk around her neck, and apologizing for the manner of
their unceremonious reception. “You see,” said Catharine, pointing to
the skein of silk, “our humble employment with my maids; and yet, save
these, I have no other counsellors in England, and those in Spain on
whom I could rely are far away.”
“If it please your Grace,” replied Wolsey, “we would speak with you
alone.”
“My lord,” answered the queen, with a proud innocence, “if you have
anything to say, speak it openly before these folk; I would all the
world should see and hear it.”
Whereupon Wolsey began to address her in Latin, in which language she
was well skilled; but she said humbly: “Pray, my good lord, speak to
me in English, for I can, thank God, understand English, though I _do_
know some Latin.”
The queen then led the cardinals into her withdrawing-room, and it is
recorded of this conference, that she did so set forth her cause that
they would not henceforth decide against her.
But chafing at the long pontifical delays, King Henry determined to
take the matter into his own hands. He had used every device to induce
the queen to consent to the divorce; and had by bribes and threats
obtained from most of the universities of Europe opinions that the
marriage was illegal.
King Henry then sent a message to Queen Catharine, who was at that time
residing at Greenwich Palace, entreating her, for the quieting of his
conscience, that she would refer the matter to arbitration. Catharine
replied: “God grant my husband a quiet conscience; but I mean to abide
by no decision excepting that of Rome.”
This answer so enraged the king that he took the queen to Windsor
Castle, and then himself departing on some excuse, he sent
authoritative commands to her that she should leave forever the royal
palace.
“He is my husband, and it is my duty to obey him,” said the injured and
faithful wife; “but though I go hence at his bidding, I am his wife,
and for him will I pray.”
King Henry had previously endeavored to have Catharine persuaded to
enter a convent; and in view of such an event, his sensitive conscience
had required him to apply to the ablest canonists in Rome to give him
their opinions on the three following questions: 1. Whether, if a wife
were to enter a convent, the Pope could not, in the plenitude of his
power, authorize the husband to marry again. 2. Whether, if the husband
were to enter a religious order that he might induce his wife to do the
same, he might not be afterwards released from his vow and at liberty
to marry. 3. Whether, for reasons of state, the Pope could not license
a king to have, like the ancient patriarchs, two wives, of whom one
only should be acknowledged and enjoy the honors of royalty. Rather
convincing proofs, truly, that the compunctions of conscience of this
royal hypocrite were a hollow sham!
After her expulsion from her husband’s court, Catharine first went to
her manor of the More, in Hertfordshire; and then settled at Ampthill,
from whence she wrote to Pope Clement, informing him of her banishment
from the royal court. As the Pope would not sanction the divorce, but
instead issued a bull of excommunication against the royal rebel, the
king, in 1533, dissolved his own wedlock by a decision pronounced in
a court held by Archbishop Cranmer. Some historians state that he
had married Anne Boleyn previously to the time when the divorce was
pronounced.
When the news of this double insult reached poor Catharine, she was
lying upon a sick-bed, worn out with sorrow. In vain had she pleaded
to be allowed to see her only child, the Princess Mary, for one last
farewell. And now her agonized mother’s heart is wrung with added woe.
Lord Montjoy, her former page, was deputed to bear to her the minutes
of the infamous conference, by whose decision she was degraded from the
rank of queen of England to that of dowager-princess of Wales.
Rising from her couch and seizing her pen, she drew it through the
words “princess-dowager,” and exclaimed to those who had brought to her
this insulting document: “So I return the minutes; and I desire ye to
say to his Grace, my husband, Catharine, his faithful consort, is his
lawful queen; and for no earthly consideration will she consent to be
called out of her name.”
Catharine afterwards removed to the Bishop of Lincoln’s palace of
Bungen. By the king’s orders, she was deprived of most of her servants,
because she would be waited on by no one who did not address her as
queen. She was next removed to Kimbolton Castle, though Henry’s first
orders had been to take her to Fotheringay Castle, a place notorious
for its bad air. But Catharine had declared that she would not go there
“unless drawn with ropes,” and so she had been sent to Kimbolton.
King Henry also withheld her income, due from her jointure as Arthur’s
widow; and notwithstanding the noble portion which she had brought as
her dower, she was allowed to suffer for the very necessaries of life,
and even a new gown was obtained on trust, as her will shows. When one
of her servants, in a rage at her inhuman treatment, execrated the
perfidious Anne, Catharine gently chided her, saying: “Hold, hold!
curse her not, for in a short time you will have good reason to pity
her!”
As death rapidly approached the heart-broken Catharine, she welcomed
the summons as a joyful release from her earthly unutterable woe. A few
days before she expired, she dictated the following touching words to
the base husband who had so atrociously wronged her.
“My Lord and Dear Husband: I commend me unto you. The hour of my death
draweth fast on, and my case being such, the tender love I owe you
forceth me with a few words, to put you in remembrance of the health
and safeguard of your soul, which you ought to prefer before all
worldly matters, and before the care and tendering of your own body,
for which you have cast me into many miseries and yourself into many
cares. For my part I do pardon you all, yea, I do wish and devoutly
pray God that He will also pardon you. For the rest I commend unto you
Mary, our daughter, beseeching you to be a good father unto her, as I
heretofore desired. I entreat you also on behalf of my maids, to give
them marriage portions which is not much, they being but three. For all
my other servants I solicit a year’s pay more than their due, lest they
should be unprovided for. Lastly do I vow that mine eyes desire you
above all things.”
Catharine of Aragon breathed her last Jan. 7, 1536. Although it was
said that King Henry shed tears over her last pathetic letter, which he
received a short time before her death, yet it is also stated that he
sent his lawyer to endeavor to seize upon her little property and try
to escape paying her trifling legacies and debts.
On the day of her burial, King Henry wore mourning, but Anne Boleyn
clothed herself and all her ladies in yellow, exclaiming, “Now am I
queen! I am grieved, not that she is dead, but for the vaunting of the
good end she made.”
Neither King Henry’s arrogant power nor Anne Boleyn’s pernicious
influence could prevent the widespread and lasting effect of the
Christian death-bed of Catharine. At length some dared to suggest
to King Henry, “that it would become his greatness to rear a stately
monument to her memory,” whereupon the beautiful abbey-church
of Peterborough, where her remains were placed, was spared from
destruction at the period of the suppression of the monasteries, and
was endowed and established as the see of Peterborough.
The life of the woman who had supplanted her was short and full
of sorrow. Three years only elapsed after Henry had married Anne
Boleyn, and only four months after Catharine had sent him her dying
forgiveness, when her exulting rival met her awful doom.
Already had King Henry cast his eyes upon Jane Seymour, and on the 15th
of May, 1536, the sentence upon the queen was pronounced. Wolsey, who
had suggested and aided the divorce of Catharine, had fallen under the
disfavor of Anne, and through her influence he was overthrown and died
in disgrace. And now Anne herself was to suffer the penalty of her
wicked ambition. On the 19th of May, 1536, Anne Boleyn was led out upon
Tower Green, and a blow from the executioner ended her eventful, but
brief life.
“It is done!” cried the inhuman Henry, as he heard the cannon which was
the signal that the tragedy was over; “that is an end of the matter.
Unleash the dogs, and let us follow the stag.”
Thus ended the life of Anne Boleyn, and on the next day King Henry
VIII. was married to his third wife, Jane Seymour.