4
In October 1505, Henry VII entered into secret negotiations with the new King and Queen of Castile for the marriage of the newly created Prince of Wales to Philip's and Juana's six-year-old daughter Eleanor. Philip, antagonistic towards his father-in-law because of Ferdinand's interference in Castilian affairs, saw this marriage as a means of exacting revenge. At the same time, it was widely believed in diplomatic circles that King Henry was having doubts as to the validity of a union between his son and Katherine of Aragon, despite the Pope's dispensation: it was said to weigh 'much on his conscience'. However, the main reason for his change of direction was that Eleanor was a far greater matrimonial prize than Katherine: not only was her mother Queen Regnant of Castile and heir to Aragon, but her father was heir to all the Hapsburg territories and might one day be Holy Roman Emperor as well.
It is clear that Katherine herself had not yet understood how her mother's death had led to her own devaluation in the marriage market; it was some time before she thought she knew why Henry VII was treating her so shabbily, and why the Prince, whom she saw sometimes about the court, was dutifully ignoring her. Eventually, it occurred to her that perhaps her father's failure to hand over the second instalment of her dowry might be the cause of the problem, and in December she asked Ferdinand to substitute a payment of gold for the jewels and plate in her possession, as she felt certain that the King of England would refuse to receive them as part of the instalment. Ferdinand promised to do as she asked, but failed to keep his word. By April 1506, Henry VII - who had been led by Katherine to expect prompt payment of the second instalment - complained bitterly about the delay, and began to cast doubt upon Ferdinand's good intentions.
By the terms of the marriage treaty, Ferdinand was well within his rights to withhold the remainder of the dowry until the union between the Prince and Princess was consummated, but he did not stand on this and chose instead to prevaricate, make excuses, and offer promises he did not keep, primarily because he needed to retain the friendship of Henry VII. According to Katherine, this provoked rage and fury in Henry VII, and she bore the brunt of it. In March 1507, he granted Ferdinand a further six months' grace in which to hand over payment, although he sanctimoniously reminded him at the time that 'punctual payment' was a 'sacred duty', and warned him that 'many other princesses have been offered in marriage to the Prince of Wales with greater marriage portions'. For Katherine, it was vital that her father complied with King Henry's wishes in order to 'prevent these people from telling me that they have reduced me to nothingness'. Yet when October arrived, Henry magnanimously extended the term of grace until March 1508. Katherine, rightly, saw this as ominous, for while the dowry remained unpaid, 'he regards me as bound and his son as free.'
In December, Ferdinand was in Castile, doing his best to raise the enormous sum required to complete the dowry, and promising Henry VII to deliver it before March. But when March came, and Ferdinand had still not paid up, Henry VII lost patience and reopened negotiations for a marriage between the Prince and EleanorofAustria.
During the summer of 1508, Ferdinand, fearing for Katherine's future, insisted Henry VII keep faith with the terms of the treaty. But Henry, whose health was failing, was determined to have the dowry before committing his son to the marriage. 'Your King has many crowns,' he sneered to the Spanish ambassador, 'but he hasn't 100,000 to pay his daughter's dowry!' The ambassador, a tactless man named Fuensalida, retorted that his master did not 'lock away his gold in chests' - a direct reference to Henry VII's legendary miserliness - 'but pays it to the brave soldiers at whose head he has always been victorious'. The obvious insult stung Henry to fury, and he marched the ambassador along to Katherine's apartments, saying, 'The Princess shall see how you handle her affairs!' In front of an astonished and distressed Katherine, he accused Fuensalida of jeopardising her marriage by his failure to press her father for the dowry, and warned her that he was not obliged in the circumstances to honour his part of the treaty.
In April 1509, at last, the final instalment of the dowry, 100,000 crowns in gold - Ferdinand had graciously consented to make good the value of the used plate and jewels - was ready to be delivered. Furthermore, a new ambassador, Don Luis Caroz, was to be sent to England empowered to inform Henry VII that it would be paid as soon as the King agreed to proceed with the marriage. However, when Caroz arrived in England, he found the King too ill to see him: Henry VII was dying, and the political situation was about to change dramatically.
During those four years of tortuous negotiations over Katherine's dowry, she herself suffered untold misery and humiliation. Her marriage to Prince Henry was never a certainty, and this placed her in a highly invidious position at the English court. At best, she was regarded there as a possible but ill-advised bride for the Prince, at worst as an unwanted dependant. Throughout this time she was very much the pawn of ambitious men, her happiness subject to the shifting vicissitudes of European politics.
Katherine's domestic life during her widowhood was anything but tranquil. In 1505, Durham House on London's Strand was placed at her disposal by the Bishop of Ely, whose town residence it was. Hitherto, she had lived either at court or at Fulham Palace, a house belonging to the Bishop of London. Durham House was sited to the east of Charing Cross, just beyond the City boundary and in an area populated mainly by the nobility and gentry, whose houses lined the Strand. Here, in peaceful and attractive surroundings, Katherine's household was briefly established. The house was built around a courtyard, and had two towers, one at each extremity. There were lawns and gardens leading down to the River Thames, where there was a jetty and landing stage. In those days persons of rank rarely travelled through London's noisome and congested streets, preferring to go by barge along the river.
In November 1505, Katherine was deprived of this peaceful refuge. Her duenna had to go abroad for a time, and Henry VII summoned Katherine to live at court, in order to save the cost of maintaining a separate establishment for her. Reluctantly, and with a depleted household, she obeyed the King's command, but she was extremely unhappy about doing so, knowing that there was little privacy to be had at court and that she would doubtless be the object of much speculation and gossip. Nevertheless, she was obliged to remain there for the next year.
Her lack of money brought further problems, especially concerning her household. In 1505 she employed mostly Spaniards on her staff, the majority of whom had come from Spain with her. Many were girls from noble families who had come to England in the hope of attracting aristocratic husbands, and Katherine knew she was obliged to provide dowries for them, when the time came, out of the income due to her from the King, which of course had ceased in the summer of 1505.
A case in point was that of Do a Maria de Salinas, who had once been a maid of honour to Queen Isabella. Her family had arranged her marriage to a noble Fleming, whom she was anxious to marry. Katherine, having no money at all, begged her father to provide a dowry, 'as Maria has served me well', but Ferdinand ignored her request. As a result, plans for the marriage had to be abandoned, to Katherine's great embarrassment and sorrow. Yet such was her ability to inspire devotion in others that Maria de Salinas remained close to her for three more decades until death severed the friendship.
Lack of money affected Katherine personally too. By December 1505, nearly a year after Henry VII had stopped her allowance, her financial situation was grave. Her father had failed to send her any money, despite repeated requests, and all King Henry had given her was a small pittance for food - she was often reduced to eating yesterday's fish from the market. She was also in debt to some London merchants for household necessities, and the gowns she had brought from Spain four years before were so shabby that she felt, as she told her father, 'nearly naked'. At Christmas, she had a humiliating interview with King Henry, who refused to pay her even a small allowance. An argument ensued, which resulted in Katherine bursting into tears, something her rigid training had schooled her not to do in public. But even this did not move Henry.
Katherine wrote again and again to her father, but Ferdinand was adamant that Henry VII should honour his undertaking to defray Katherine's living expenses, and would not help her. In Spain, her suffering aroused indignation and sympathy. It was generally felt that it was Henry VII's duty to support her and that, in failing to do this, he was guilty of a serious breach of his sacred oaths of knighthood and kingship, by which he was bound to protect defenceless maidens such as his daughter-in-law.
By the end of 1505, Katherine had come to realise that the King no longer desired her marriage to his son, and warned her father that she would 'be lost if I am not assisted from Spain'. Alas for Katherine, Ferdinand had no knowledge of Henry VII's secret negotiations with Philip of Castile, and consequently had no reason to believe that the English King wanted to break the alliance; nor did he himself wish to prejudice it, for he now needed Henry more than Henry needed him. As a result, he chose to ignore his daughter's complaints.
It was unfortunate that Katherine was ill-served throughout her widowhood by the men who should have championed her: her father's ambassador, Dr de Puebla, was more interested in ingratiating himself with Henry VII and serving his own ends than in carrying out his master's wishes. In December 1505, Katherine decided that all her troubles were 'on account of the Doctor', and begged Ferdinand to consider 'how I am your daughter' and help by sending another ambassador, 'who would be a true servant of your Highness', since Dr de Puebla had caused her so much 'pain and annoyance that I have lost my health in a great measure', and might 'soon die'.
There was, at that time, another Spanish envoy in England, Hernan Duque de Estrada, who was sympathetic towards Katherine and tried to offer her some comfort. For a time she confided in him, and he, highly indignant on her behalf, wrote to King Ferdinand endorsing her requests, but to no avail. Later, however, Katherine was to say that he had not done as much as he could have done to assist her when she most needed it. Certainly his pleas, like hers, fell on deaf ears. Ferdinand was in no hurry to replace Puebla, and instructed Katherine to make use of him before another ambassador could be selected, which would not happen for more than a year.
All of these problems had indeed, as Katherine complained, taken a severe toll on her health. She had been unwell since shortly after her arrival in England, when she suffered a viral infection at Ludlow in 1502. Since then, she had continued to be susceptible to fevers and stomach upsets, which may be attributed in part to the changes in climate and diet to which she had had to accustom herself. She does not seem to have suffered one long illness, but a succession of ailments following one upon the other, and from April 1502 until early in 1507 was constantly unwell.
The likelihood is that much of her ill health was the result of stress. She herself attributed the 'severe tertian fevers' she suffered during the autumn of 1505 to all the aggravation to which she was being subjected. She wrote to tell her father that she had been 'at death's door for months', but this may have been an exaggeration born of depression, for she was 'in the deepest anguish'. Again, in March 1506 she informed Ferdinand she had been 'near death' for six months, although she was then 'somewhat better, but not entirely well'.
Her partial recovery may have been due in some measure to a brief reunion with her sister Juana. In January 1506, Juana and Philip were sailing from the Low Countries to Spain when they were shipwrecked off the English coast and welcomed at Windsor Castle as guests of the King. Although Juana was Queen Regnant of Castile, she was mentally unstable, and real power lay in the hands of her husband, King Philip. Because of the hostility between Philip and Ferdinand, Philip was anxious to conclude the betrothal of his daughter Eleanor to the Prince of Wales, thereby driving a wedge between Henry VII and his own father-in-law, and he welcomed this opportunity of a meeting with the English King.
Katherine, who knew nothing of these negotiations, was at Windsor for the visit, and was naturally elated at the prospect of seeing her sister, being hopeful also that Juana would use her influence with their father to improve her own situation. Henry VII made sure that Katherine had a prominent role in the festivities. Wearing Spanish dress, she danced for her good-looking brother-in- law, or sat with the King's daughter Mary Tudor at table or around the fire while the Kings talked. She may have wondered whether her inclusion really signified her return to favour or whether the King merely intended that Philip should return to Spain with the impression that she was being well treated and was accorded all the dignities and privileges appropriate to her status. Nevertheless, it would not have escaped Philip's shrewd eyes that all his meetings with Katherine took place under Henry VII's watchful supervision, thus preventing her from airing her grievances to her brother-in-law. Nor was Katherine allowed more than half an hour alone with her sister.
Katherine's expectations of Juana proved greatly overestimated; the sisters had not met for ten years and had very little in common. Juana was sunk in depression, obsessed with jealousy of her wayward husband, and not in the slightest interested in the problems of her younger sister. Katherine did not even attempt to ask for her help.
The two Kings spent several hours closeted together discussing the possible betrothal between their children, but nothing was finally concluded. Philip and Juana left England in April 1506, with Katherine in no doubt that they were completely unaware of her suffering. She never saw her sister again, even though Juana was to outlive her by nearly twenty years.
Philip and Juana returned to Spain, where only six months later Philip fell ill and died at the early age of twenty-eight. Queen Juana's mind, never very stable, became unhinged, and she suffered a complete nervous collapse. This gave her father the chance he had been hoping for to take over the reins of government in Castile on his daughter's behalf, and since it was obvious to everyone there that Juana was incapable of ruling for herself, there was little dissent. The widowed Queen seemed to be under the impression that her husband was not dead, and would not surrender his corpse for burial. Her attendants were horrified when she insisted upon opening the coffin and embracing and kissing what lay within, even though the body was rapidly decomposing; only with difficulty could she be parted from it and persuaded to allow it to be laid to rest.
Ferdinand had had long years of experience of governing Castile, and once he regained power there he was determined never again to relinquish it. After two years, he declared his daughter mad and unfit to reign, and had her shut up in the grim castle of Tordesillas, where she remained until her death fifty years later. She was deemed to have abdicated in favour of her son, now Charles I of Castile, but as the boy was only eight real power remained in the hands of his grandfather, who would govern both Castile and Aragon until his death.
Katherine's health might have been slightly improved when her sister left England, but her financial situation was worse than ever. In April 1506 she was deeply in debt, 'and this not for extravagant things', but for food. She had no decent clothes to wear, and not even enough money to buy a new chemise. Since arriving in England she had had only two new gowns, and the only serviceable ones left from her trousseau were two made of damask. It would be seventeen months, however, before she was able to afford to buy herself some decent clothes, and in that time she would appear ever shabbier. Mindful that she should maintain the standards suitable to her rank in an age when appearances counted for a lot, she felt she 'dared not neglect my own person', and consequently had to sell or pawn other items from her dower plate and jewels just for necessities. By the summer of 1506, she could no longer pay her servants their salaries, and told King Ferdinand that her people were 'ready to ask for alms', which caused her more anguish than Maria de Salinas's dowry. Predictably, she fell ill again at this time, suffering recurrent bouts of fever, doubtless exacerbated by anxiety over her situation.
In the autumn, however, she was somewhat better, thanks to the King allowing her to spend more time with the Prince of Wales. Young Henry, ever obedient to his father, had never hinted of his secret repudiation of his betrothal to Katherine, and in 1506 was still referring to her as 'my most dear and well-beloved consort, the Princess my wife'. When they were together during the late summer and autumn, a bondofaffection began to develop between them, and the gap between their ages to seem narrower. The King, realising what was happening, deemed it prudent to separate them, as it now seemed unlikely that their marriage would ever take place. Saying he was concerned for her health, he sent Katherine to live at Fulham Palace once more; it was still unoccupied, having been put at the disposal of the Castilian ambassadors, who had not used it. The King told Katherine that 'if she preferred any other house, she had only to say so, and it would be kept for her'. She told him she was content to go to Fulham, but she does not appear to have lived there long, and was soon reinstalled in apartments at court, where she remained for the rest of her widowhood. Henry VII took care to keep her apart from the Prince, and from January to April 1507 she did not see him. This distressed her, and she thought it ominous. She told Ferdinand that the hardest thing she had to bear was to see her betrothed 'so seldom. As we all live in the same house, it seems to me a great cruelty.'
In 1507, Henry VII negotiated with the Emperor Maximilian a betrothal between the Princess Mary Tudor and Maximilian's grandson, Charles of Castile, an alliance that would be highly advantageous to England with her trade links through the wool- cloth trade with the Low Countries, of which Charles - as Archduke of Austria - was heir; it would also counterbalance a recent political alliance between Ferdinand and Louis XII of France. Henry VII had decided he no longer needed Ferdinand, and Katherine was made aware of this by what she described as his 'want of love'; she told her father it was 'impossible for me any longer to endure what I have gone through and am still suffering'.
By April 1507, Catherine's servants were walking about 'in rags' and existing 'in such misery it is shameful to think on it'. She begged her father to succour them, as there were 'no persons to whom your Highness is more indebted'. They had served her with unfailing goodwill through prosperity and increasing adversity. Now, however, their patience was, like their clothes, becoming rather frayed at the edges.
During the sixteenth century, servants were treated far more familiarly than, for example, they were in Victorian times. Friendships could flourish between royal personages and those who served them, since 'condescension' was expected and not resented. Servants often performed the most intimate tasks: ladies of rank were always given assistance with dressing, coiffure and even bathing. Ladies-in- waiting and maids of honour would keep their mistress company for hours, sewing, reading aloud, chatting or making music in the intimate panelled rooms of the period. They would take it in turns to sleep on a pallet at the foot of her bed when she was alone at night. Indeed, there would be no time of the day when she was unattended, no bodily function that did not have its rituals, and no private emotion that went unwitnessed.
In return, a lady of rank was responsible for her servants' physical, moral and spiritual welfare, for housing, clothing and feeding them, and in some cases for arranging marriages for them and providing dowries. The strong bonds that developed between Katherine of Aragon and many of those who served her were no doubt forged not only from her innate kindness but also the shared experience of being foreigners together in a strange and hostile land, almost the only people there who spoke their native Spanish. There were in her household, however, some who took advantage of her kindness, or let self-interest stand in the way of their duty. Certainly intrigue was rife among the Princess's servants.
Katherine's patience and forbearance were by now little short of saintly. Trained from the cradle to be submissive to the men of her family, she did not venture to criticise, but contented herself with pitiful pleas for assistance, which were calculated to flatter the powerful men with whom she had to treat. Honest and sincere to a fault, and perhaps lacking humour, her humility and self-effacement were at odds with her staunch pride in her royal blood and lineage. Yet it was her pride that helped her to cope with the many tribulations laid upon her, not the least of which was being besieged daily by creditors demanding payment.
Yet some relief was at hand. In April 1507, Ferdinand wrote to ask Katherine for her views as to the kind of ambassador who should be sent to replace Dr de Puebla. She replied that he should be someone 'who dared to speak an honest word at the right time'. Ferdinand had suggested Don Guitier Gomez de Fuensalida, Knight Commander of the Order of Membrilla, a high-minded Spanish aristocrat who had already spent some time in England, and although he was not Katherine's first choice - she preferred Pedro de Ayala, who had visited England with Philip and Juana in 1506 - she made no objections to Fuensalida, as she believed him to be 'a man of great experience, knowledge and high status'. Meanwhile, she told her father that, when the new ambassador came to England and made his first report, Ferdinand would be 'frightened at that which I have passed through'. If Puebla were any kind of man, he would not have consented to her being treated as 'never knight's daughter was in the kingdoms of your Highness'. This alarmed Ferdinand, who, prompted by 'royal and paternal solicitude', and impressed by the way in which Katherine was handling a very difficult situation, took the unprecedented step, on 19 May 1507, of appointing his daughter to act as his ambassador in England until a replacement could be found. Never before in Europe had a woman acted in such a capacity, and the appointment naturally enhanced Katherine's status at the court of Henry VII. It was also a timely appointment, as Puebla was ill and having to be carried from his house to the palace in a litter. Henry VII, hearing the news, 'rejoiced', although it is obvious that he and his advisers believed Katherine to be a lightweight who could easily be manipulated. To some extent she would confound them.
In her role as ambassador, Katherine grew more confident in her dealings with the King, disputing with him, flattering him, even telling him she was 'very well treated and very well contented'. She never used the Doctor as an intermediary, for she feared the 'injurious consequences'; Puebla was still playing a double game, and she viewed him with jaundiced eye as 'the adviser to the King' whose chief interest was to make his own life in England as comfortable as possible. Staunchly moral herself, she was finally beginning to appreciate the lack of scruple in the men with whom she was dealing, and slowly, painfully, she was learning to play the game of power politics their way. Nevertheless, she realised that she now was getting nowhere with Henry VII on the main issues, and continued to press her father for a new ambassador.
Acting as her father's ambassador certainly had a beneficial effect on Katherine's health, however. In May 1507, her physician, Dr Johannes, reported to Ferdinand that she was entirely recovered 'from the long malady which she has suffered ever since her arrival in England', and had regained 'her natural healthy colour. The only pains she now suffers are moral afflictions beyond the reach of the physician.' Money was still a problem, yet worry over it did not affect Katherine as badly as previously, and her health remained stable for the next eighteen months. Being allowed once more to see the Prince doubtless helped.
During May and June, Katherine was present at the tournaments held to celebrate young Henry's sixteenth birthday, and delighting to watch him showing off his prowess in the lists. Already he was a skilful horseman and jouster, being very tall and of strong build, 'most comely of his personage', and so amiable that he was perfectly happy discussing warfare with 'gentlemen of low degree', something his contemporaries marvelled at. Prince Henry was popular with his future subjects for his common touch, something his father had never had. He dreamed of war and glory and chivalry, and since he was openly pro-Spanish and anti-French the prospect of marriage to the Princess Katherine was very attractive to him. For the present, however, he was bound to obey his father, and could only exchange pleasantries with his betrothed. The King had seen to it that his life was sheltered and secluded during his formative years, and Henry had learned to keep his own counsel.
The age gap between Henry and Katherine seemed to be narrowing as Henry grew to manhood. The time was now ripe for their marriage, and yet, in July 1507, it still seemed to be a long way off. 'Nothing has changed,' Katherine told Ferdinand then. She herself was now twenty-one, old by Tudor standards for marriage, and to her the delay was extremely distressing. An indication of her true feelings was given in September, when she overheard speculation that her marriage would never take place and told Henry VII 'she could not bear to have such a thing said'. Prince Henry was the husband she wanted. 'There is no finer youth in the world,' wrote Dr de Puebla at this time; 'he is already taller than his father and his limbs are of gigantic size. He is as prudent as is to be expected for a son of Henry VII.'
By the autumn of 1507, Ferdinand had firmly established himself as ruler of Castile and Henry VII began to look upon Katherine in a more favourable light, something that substantially increased the esteem in which she was generally held at court. Katherine herself believed that her marriage to Prince Henry might now go ahead as planned if only her father would comply with Henry VII's demands for payment of her dowry. Yet while Ferdinand prevaricated, he instructed her to 'always speak of your marriage as a thing beyond all doubt', as though 'God alone could undo what has been undone'.
But it was not just Ferdinand's extended power that provoked Henry VII to a change of heart; since January 1507, the English King had cherished a desire to marry Queen Juana and thereby rule Castile himself, and to do so now he needed Ferdinand's goodwill and his permission. It was this that precluded him from breaking off his son's betrothal to Katherine, and this that influenced his dealings with Ferdinand throughout the year.
It was to Katherine that Henry had first disclosed his intentions, telling her he did not care about Juana's mental derangement; he had seen for himself her sultry, almost oriental beauty, and knew she was capable of producing healthy children. From the first, Katherine favoured an alliance between the King and her sister. Family feeling apart, she saw it as a surety for her own marriage taking place. She did not perceive that Ferdinand would never allow Henry VII to marry Juana, and that he meant to continue ruling Castile himself without foreign interference. Yet at the same time, he did not wish to alienate his ally, and therefore, when the King's proposal was put to him by Katherine, he instructed her to tell Henry that it was 'not yet known whether Queen Juana be inclined to marry again', although it was certain that if she became so inclined, 'it shall be with no other person than the King of England'. Ferdinand continued to dangle the carrot of Juana, believing that this was the best way to induce Henry VII to proceed with the marriage of his son to Katherine, but by September 1507 Henry was chafing at the delay and looking elsewhere for a wife, telling Katherine that the whole business had 'occasioned him great perplexity', and begging her to urge her father to think again. She did her best to bring negotiations for the marriage to a successful conclusion, which resulted in Ferdinand promising, in October, to persuade Juana 'by degrees' to it.
Katherine took advantage of this situation, and her authority as ambassador, by asking both her father and King Henry to redress the wrong done to her servants, who were still 'in absolute misery'. At long last, Ferdinand's conscience pricked him, and in September he sent her 2,000 ducats, not a large sum but enough to clear some of her debts, although she was somewhat perplexed as to which should have priority. Her creditors must be satisfied, her servants paid, her depleted plate needed replacing, and she herself needed new clothes. Then Henry VII, eager to ingratiate himself with her father, stepped in, telling her he loved her so much he could not bear the idea of her being in poverty, and would give her, without delay, 'as much money as you want for your person and servants'.
For the present, it seemed that Katherine's troubles would soon be over. She had also achieved tranquillity in her spiritual life with the advent of a new confessor. Early in 1507, she had been forced to apply to the General of the Order of the Franciscan Friars Observant in Spain for a new confessor, as Alessandro Geraldini had gone home a year earlier, leaving her virtually without spiritual comfort. She still could not speak English, and her father had failed to send a replacement, despite repeated requests. The confessor sent by the Order, who arrived later in the year, was in Katherine's opinion 'very good': he was a young Spanish friar called Fray Diego Fernandez, a man of magnetic charm and forceful personality, who rapidly gained a powerful influence over the Princess, to whom he offered the kind of devoted friendship and support she had so often found lacking in England. Moreover, he was a learned young man, and had about him an air of authority that commanded respect.
Before long, Katherine was showing herself reluctant to take any step without the friar's advice and blessing. She was a deeply pious person, but also a woman of twenty-one who had for long lacked a male figure - father, lover or husband - in her restricted life. It is perhaps no coincidence that she recovered her health shortly after Fray Diego's arrival. The friar certainly knew his power over her, and soon capitalised on it. He told her there was no need to suffer any more humiliating delay in waiting for her marriage to take place; the marriage treaty had been concluded conditionally, Henry VII had defaulted on its terms, and she was free to renounce it. But King Ferdinand was unimpressed by this view, and ignored the letter in which Katherine set it forth.
Katherine's marriage prospects received a major setback early in 1508 when Henry VII finally lost patience with Ferdinand over the delay in arranging his marriage to Juana. When he was informed that she was completely deranged, he retorted that he did not believe it. In fact, though, he now realised only too well that Juana was not in the marriage market, and the matter of their betrothal was quietly dropped without further recriminations. But the damage had already been done. By March 1508 relations between Henry and Ferdinand had deteriorated badly, and that month saw the King re-entering into negotiations with the Emperor Maximilian for the marriage of the Prince to Eleanor of Austria. Young Henry himself was behaving as if he was 'hardly much inclined' towards marrying Katherine; it was what his father expected of him, especially as Henry VII was becoming convinced that their union would be of questionable validity anyway.
In the spring of 1508, Ferdinand finally granted Katherine's request for another ambassador and sent Fuensalida to England. Unfortunately, the new ambassador proved to be as proud, pompous and dogmatic as only a Spanish grandee could be; the first thing he did was ruffle King Henry's feathers over the sensitive matter of Juana, thus setting a pattern for diplomatic relations over the next year. Katherine took an instant dislike to Fuensalida, and accused him of behaving with 'too great rigour towards the King'. She did not trust him, and she resented the fact that the respect formerly shown to her as her father's official ambassador had diminished with the Knight Commander's arrival in England. Fuensalida, for his part, immediately assessed how matters stood between Katherine and Fray Diego, and decided that the friar was a bad influence and should be removed at the earliest opportunity. In this he had Katherine's best interests at heart, since he could foresee a scandal brewing; Katherine, however, resented his animosity towards the friar, and preferred to heed the vitriol poured in her ears by Fray Diego about Fuensalida than Fuensalida's warnings about the integrity of Fray Diego.
Negotiations for the betrothal of Prince Henry to Eleanor of Austria broke down early in the summer of 1508, and before long Henry VII was scouring the courtsofEurope for another possible bride for his son. At seventeen, the Prince was approaching manhood and should be fathering heirs to safeguard the dynasty and the peace of the realm. Unfortunately, Ferdinand's spies told him what was afoot, and he wrote heatedly to Fuensalida, saying, 'The King of England must keep faith in this matter!' He also threatened war if Henry VII broke the treaty. Fuensalida was further instructed to ingratiate himself with the Prince of Wales, and 'use all the means in his power for bringing the marriage to a speedy conclusion'. Fortunately, many of the English nobility were eager for it to take place. In January 1509, when the King was trying to negotiate a French match for his son, a deputation of them confronted him and pressed him to marry the Prince to Katherine, as they had heard that her dowry was ready for payment and, more important, they had noted the sickness of their sovereign and feared for the succession. The King, who was indeed ill with consumption, agreed to consider their request, but Katherine was not hopeful of his agreeing to it, and there was even talk of her returning to Spain to await another acceptable marriage.
During the early months of 1509 she was 'in deep despair', feeling herself unable to endure much more. She told Ferdinand that her sufferings continued to increase, and that she felt so depressed that life seemed not worth living. She feared, she said, that she 'might do something which neither the King of England nor your Highness would be able to prevent'. In Lent, she was physically unwell again, which commonly happened to her at that season, perhaps because she was confined to a diet of mainly fish, which may not always have been fresh or agreed with her. She was not seen about the court, and was probably still unwell in April, when an event occurred that would dramatically change her life. It is significant that, when her circumstances improved, as they did within two months, her illnesses disappeared for good.
Money had again become a problem during the early months of 1509, and had been since September 1508, for Henry VII, piqued by Ferdinand's duplicity, had once again ceased paying Katherine's allowance. In March she told her father that 'my necessities have risen so high that I do not know how to maintain myself. She had sold all her household goods and most of her dower plate - 'it was impossible to avoid it' - and had since spent the money thus raised. Once again, she was driven to begging King Henry for help, though he told her he was not bound to give it; nevertheless, he added that the love he bore her would not allow him to do otherwise, and grudgingly gave her enough to defray the expenses of her table. She found this humiliating, and wrote to Ferdinand: 'From this your Highness will see to what a state I am reduced, when I am warned that even my food is given me almost as alms.'
To add to Katherine's woes, there was a good deal of tension within her household, due not only to the uncertainty overshadowing her future, but also to petty disputes and jealousies. Early in the year, Katherine quarrelled with Dona Elvira over the latter's constant intrigues and dismissed her, leaving no suitable person to supervise her servants and protect her reputation. Katherine was now twenty- three and mature enough to order her own affairs, and circumstances would shortly dictate that the duenna would never be replaced. Her desperate lack of money meant that her servants were once more facing destitution, for again they had not been paid, 'which hurts me and weighs on my conscience'. This time, they were not so forbearing. The Princess's chamberlain, Juan de Diero, responded by treating her with great 'audaciousness' and failing to order her household properly, and because she could not pay him the arrears of salary due to him, she could neither reprimand nor dismiss him.
Much of the tension in Katherine's household was generated by Fray Diego. The friar had already acquired a reputation as a womaniser, and most of the ladies in the Princess's household, not to mention some about the court, were a little in love with him. His hold over Katherine was stronger than ever, and the relationship between them intense. Fuensalida had watched the Princess and marked her complete dependence on Fray Diego, and by March 1509 was so alarmed about it that he confided his fears to his master, alleging that the friar was 'unworthy' to hold his office. Katherine was 'fullofgoodness' and 'conscientious', but her confessor was making her 'commit many faults'. The ambassador did not elaborate, but sent his servant to Spain to inform Ferdinand in person 'of the things which for two months past have happened'.
Fuensalida called Fray Diego 'light, haughty, and scandalous in an extreme manner'. Even Henry VII had heard of his promiscuity and had spoken to Katherine 'in very strong words' about her confessor's behaviour. But the friar, perceiving that Fuensalida was hostile to him, 'put me out of favour with the Princess, so that if I had committed some treason she could not have treated me worse'. Fuensalida accordingly begged Ferdinand to recall the friar and replace him with 'an old and honest confessor'.
The implication was clear: Katherine was placing herself in moral danger and risked ruining her reputation by associating with Fray Diego, a confessor who was stressing the avoidance of sin on one hand and fornicating with women on the other. Fuensalida feared that Katherine too would succumb, for if this had not been the issue at stake, then the nature of the complaints against the friar would have been stated more specifically by the ambassador.
Today, it is hard to assess the precise nature of the relationship between Katherine and Fray Diego. In view of Katherine's character, and her repeated later assertions that she had come to Henry VIII 'a true maid, without touch of man', it was certainly not a sexual one- Henry VIII's retention of the friar in his office after his marriage to Katherine is sufficient proof of this. Katherine's respect for the friar's vows and for her own rank and person were enough to deter her from overstepping the bounds of accepted morality, but the men around her were hardened realists, and saw life in basic terms; they well knew what could develop from such a potentially explosive situation. To them, the removal of Fray Diego was therefore imperative for the sake of Katherine's as yet unblemished reputation and her future marriage prospects.
Katherine, meanwhile, could see no wrong in her confessor; in her view, he was 'the best that ever woman in my position had'. She reacted with passionate anger to Fuensalida's criticism, not perhaps fully comprehending why he should be so concerned, and wrote to inform Ferdinand 'how badly the ambassador has behaved' towards the friar. By March 1509, she would have nothing to do with him, and was demanding that her father replace him with someone else. 'Things here become daily worse,' she wrote, 'and my life more and more insupportable. I can no longer bear this.' Fuensalida, she went on, had 'crippled your service'; Henry VII did not want him, and would undoubtedly welcome a replacement. Whatever Fuensalida wrote in his reports, she warned, 'might not be true'. Because of this, Ferdinand immediately ordered the recall of Fuensalida: Luis Caroz could take his place. Later on, after the accession of Henry VIII, Fuensalida did make his peace with Katherine, thanks to the intercession of the new King, before leaving England in May 1509. At the same time, Katherine also bade farewell to Dr de Puebla, who was likewise returning to Spain, where he died a few months later.
By defending her confessor to her father, Katherine had provided a credible reason for her rift with Fuensalida, but at the same time she had exposed her emotional and spiritual dependence on the friar. By now, she would do nothing without the friar's consent. When the court moved to Richmond and he told her to remain behind, for no apparent reason, she obeyed him without protest, even though no provision had been made for her to stay. When the King heard, he was 'very much vexed', and when Katherine did arrive at Richmond the next day, after a comfortless night, she met with a very chilly reception. The King did not speak to her for three weeks after the incident.
The friar had also managed to alienate most of the senior members of Katherine's household, including the chamberlain, Juan de Diero, and when Katherine wished to sell her remaining plate 'to satisfy the follies of the friar', Diero spoke out against it, with the result that the Princess behaved towards him as though he had 'committed the greatest treason in the world'. Fuensalida, seeing this, continued to press Ferdinand for the removal of the friar, whom he referred to as 'this pestiferous person'. He was writing, he said, 'not so openly as I would desire'; instead, he was sending one of Katherine's devoted servants who would disclose more sensitive information. Katherine, learning of her servant's departure and guessing what was afoot, warned Ferdinand not to credit anything that was written or said to him about 'my confessor, who serves me well and loyally'. She herself refused to believe the rumours then circulating about the friar, nor could she see the damage he was causing. In fact, he had brought about a rift between Katherine and Henry VII, and when it became obvious in April 1509 that Henry was dying, Katherine's fortunes were at a low ebb. She was ill and depressed, even suicidal, and once more in grave financial difficulty.
Nevertheless, an end to her troubles was in sight. That month, Luis Caroz arrived to replace Fuensalida as ambassador, and brought with him the reassuring news that her dowry was ready for payment. This was comfort indeed, but Katherine was anxious about what would become of her once the King was dead. Already the courtiers were behaving towards her with a new respect, believing she might shortly be Queen of England, but she had as yet heard no word from Prince Henry, who was so distraught at the prospect of losing his father that all other matters had temporarily been banished from his mind.
Henry VII died a hard, difficult death from tuberculosis on 22 April 1509. On his deathbed, he admitted to his son that his conscience was troubling him over his poor treatment of the Princess Katherine, and commanded young Henry to do the honourable thing and marry her, something that was much in accord with the Prince's own inclinations.
When Henry VII died, England's reputation in Europe was so impressive that it was said that all Christian nations were eager to forge alliances with her. Much of Henry's power lay in the wealth he had accumulated over the years; there was well over 1 million in the treasury at his death, a fantastic sum in those days. In this wealth lay England's strength and security. Yet when Henry VII was buried in the chapel named after him in Westminster Abbey early in May, few mourned his passing. The English had always underestimated his greatness, seeing him as a parsimonious schemer who was not to be trusted, rather than the wise founder of a strong dynasty and the guardian of a precarious peace.
There was little doubt in anyone's mind that the new King, Henry VIII, had already chosen the lady who would share his life and his throne. The Princess had always been on close and affectionate terms with the young Henry before his father's death, even though the old King had kept them apart for much of their five-year engagement. Although the Prince had secretly renounced his vows on his father's orders in 1505, few knew of it, and in the eyes of the world Henry and Katherine were still betrothed. As a result, Katherine found herself treated with a new and gratifying deference by courtiers. It was, of course, a matter of absolute necessity that the King marry and get himself an heir as soon as possible: there were still living some members of the House of York who thought they had a better claim to the throne than he, and the spectre of civil war still loomed large.
After the funeral of Henry VII, the court moved to Greenwich, the red-brick hilltop palace on the Thames where Henry had been born. Here, where the windows afforded magnificent, panoramic views of London, the new King made it clear that he intended to pursue traditional foreign policy and revive Edward III's ancient claim to the throne of France and have himself crowned at Rheims. The possibility of war with France, England's hereditary enemy, made an alliance with Spain all the more desirable. King Ferdinand was urging him to marry Katherine without delay, and was promising him 'all the advantages which were denied to his father, on the sole condition that the marriage is immediately consummated'. The dowry, he promised, would be 'punctually paid'.
But, briefly, Henry VIII hesitated: his councillors told Fuensalida that, unexpectedly, he was suffering 'certain scruples of conscience' and wondering whether he would 'commit a sin by marrying the widow of his deceased brother', as such unions were forbidden in the Bible. It seemed that certain churchmen had been whispering in Henry's ear, Warham amongst them; and the King's conscience was a rather tender organ, as many would later find to their cost. Informed of Henry's doubts by Fuensalida, Ferdinand hastened to reassure the young King that 'such a marriage is perfectly lawful, as the Pope has given a dispensation for it, while the consequence of it will be peace between England and Spain'. He drew Henry's attention to the King of Portugal, who had married two of Katherine's sisters in succession and was 'blessed with numerous offspring, and lives very cheerfully and happily'. Ferdinand felt certain that 'the same happiness is reserved for the King of England, who will enjoy the greatest felicity in his union with the Princess of Wales, and leave numerous children behind him'. Fuensalida told Katherine that Ferdinand loved her 'the most of his children and looks on the King of England like a son'. It was Ferdinand's intention to give advice about everything to Henry VIII, 'like a true father'; Katherine's duty would be to foster an understanding between the two men and ensure that her future husband would heed Ferdinand's guidance in all matters of state.
Early in June 1509, the Privy Council urged the King to marry Katherine and fulfil the terms of the betrothal treaty. They did not have to spell out why the matter was urgent, as Henry was more than cognizant of the insecurity of his dynasty. Instead, they extolled Katherine's virtues, saying she was 'the image of her mother, (and) like her possesses that wisdom and greatness of mind which win the respect of nations'. As for Henry's scruples about the canonical legality of the marriage, 'we have the Pope's dispensation,' they said; 'will you be more scrupulous than he is?'
The King could only agree that there were many good reasons for the marriage; above all, he told them, 'he desired her above all women; he loved her and longed to wed her.' Most of the Councillors knew this: since the age of ten, Henry had looked up to and admired his pretty sister-in-law; and, as he had grown to manhood, and had seen how well Katherine had coped with the adversity and humiliations she had suffered, his admiration had deepened, not to passion - it would never be that - but to love in its most chivalrous form, blended with deep respect. This apart, honour demanded that Henry should marry her, as by so doing he would rescue her from penury and dishonour, like a knight errant of old, and win her unending gratitude. It was a plan that appealed vastly to the King's youthful conceit. Indeed, there was even a certain smugness in his approach to his marriage, for he was later to inform King Ferdinand that he had 'rejected all the other ladies in the world that have been offered to us', which, in his view, proved beyond doubt the depth of the 'singular love' he bore to his 'very beloved' Katherine. Undoubtedly he found her attractive, with her long golden hair and fair skin; he was impressed by her maturity, her dignity, her lineage and her graciousness. Everything about her proclaimed her a fit mate for the King of England, and Henry, who was no fool, realised this.
Yet in some ways she was an unwise choice. Doubts that the marriage might be uncanonical were well founded in the opinion of some churchmen of the time, though they, knowing the King's will in the matter, kept silent for the most part. Then there was the matter of the five-and-a-half-year age gap, and the fact that Katherine, at twenty-three, was well past her first youth by the standards of her day, and rather old to be contemplating motherhood for the first time. Many girls married at fourteen and bore a child the following year, while the average age at death for women in Tudor times was around thirty. Henry VIII could have had his pick of the young princesses of Europe, but he needed the alliance with Spain, he wanted Katherine's dowry to add to his already rich inheritance, and, above all, he wanted Katherine herself.
And what Henry VIII wanted, he usually got.