The Diary of Harry Tudor: Prince of Wales

This will be a diary based timeline that will follow little Henry (commonly called Harry) Tudor, the eldest son of King Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn. It will begin on the day of Anne Boleyn's death and follow the Prince's day to day life. He will comment on his surrounding, go about his day and generally just be a kid.

He has five siblings:

1- Elizabeth (b.1533)

2- Margaret (b.1538)

3- Edward (b.1540)

4- George (b.1543)

5- Cecily (b.1543)

So let's follow the ten year old Harry Tudor :)

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4th of August, 1546: This is the diary my Father gave me today to make me feel better after mama passed away.

My mama used to call me her saviour.

I was born weak, I am small and skinny and not the smartest of my classmates, and yet I was my mama’s saviour. When she needed me most to live, I was born.

As I watched my mama’s body be carried out of her room, I saw her thin, skeletal white hand fall down from her side. She always complained that her skin was too dark, and now she was dead her skin was the whitest it would ever be.

Looking over to my right, I saw Elizabeth tearing up. My elder sister, my strong sister, is crying at the site of our mother’s death. If she could, I could too. So I did.

But as the tears start flowing, Father walked in. I grabbed Elizabeth’s hand and we both stand strong, trying not to cry in front of him.

We know that he hadn’t been happy since the birth George and Cecily three years ago. No one told my why, but apparently mama wasn’t allowed to have any more children after they were born. I don’t understand why Father was so angry, he has Elizabeth, Margaret, Edward, George, Cecily and me. That seems like enough children for a King, but he wanted more.

He saw Elizabeth and I and, for the first time in my memory, started crying.

Now, Father is not an unemotional man, just not the crying type. Mama was, as is Edward and Margaret (the others don’t count, their babies practically), but not Father. But he is crying, and that means we can restart our own tears.

“Elizabeth. Harry. Come and comfort your Father.”

He beckoned for us to come to him, and Elizabeth runs into his arms. But I am scared to, in case this is a test and he wants to see if I am a strong boy. I want to be the Prince he always dreamt of.

“It’s ok Harry; you can cry today, I won’t be angry.”

“But isn’t bad for a Prince to cry?”

“In public, yes, but not in private when someone dies. Then you can cry, so now you can cry.”

“See Harry, Papa said it is all right so it is all right.”

Finally understanding that I wouldn’t get into trouble if I expressed my sadness, I let the tears flow.

After that, Father said that he had a surprise for Elizabeth and I. When we followed him I told Elizabeth that I hoped it was for mama to come back to life, but she just shook her head.

Instead, he handed us both blank books, which confused me at first. But he told us about how he knew people who kept diaries and wished for us to be able to look back to his reign when we were older. I thought that it was nice that he had thought of us, but Elizabeth didn’t look as happy. When we left I asked her what Father had done, but she just shook her head and went to her rooms.

I spent the rest of the day crying and trying to figure out what to write in this thing. So I started at the most important and will end with the least important.

Right now I am waiting for Lady Fitzroy to come in and tuck me in. I hope she gets here soon, as I am very sleepy and if she is late then I might fall asleep without seeing her and that would not be very kind of me.


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5th of August, 1546: I didn’t get to see Lady Fitzroy yesterday night. Instead, Lady Arundel came and tucked me in. When I asked where Lady Fitzroy was, she told me that she was with her husband. This annoyed me, as Lord Henry is not half as nice as I am, I believe. But anyway, that isn’t all that happened last night.

When it was very dark, I woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep again. I felt very sad about mama and wanted to pray for her. So I managed to get out of bed without it creaking and walked to the chapel.

When I got there I heard whispering. Confused, I pressed my ear to the door and tried to hear what was being said. While I didn’t quite understand it all, I heard words like ‘dead’ and ‘bastard’ repeated over and over again. But my Castilian wasn’t good enough to understand, so I just waited.

When the people stopped talking, I walked inside and saw that the Spanish ambassador (I forget his name) and Lady Mary were standing together. While they looked shocked, I walked past them and started praying.

But when the Spanish ambassador left, I went to Lady Mary and poked her.
She wasn’t very happy to see me and looked very old, at least to my eyes. But I continued to poke her until she turned and glared at me.

“What do you want brother?”

“Why were you talking to the ambassador?”

“We are good friends, and we were merely talking of our sadness over the death of the Queen.”

This confused me, as I know that Lady Mary never liked my mama. So I told her just that.

“But you don’t like my mama.”

When she paused, I took care to watch her face. My tutor has been telling me that reading faces is important for a future monarch, and people should be under constant surveillance. He also said that I shouldn’t tell father of these lessons. Sometimes I don’t understand old people.

I saw the emotions fear, confusion, anger and understanding cross her face very quickly. It was almost funny to watch as her features squashed and stretched like material, creating and destroying little wrinkles. But when she went to watch me, I made sure not to let her see my amusement. That might have been rude.

“I may not have gotten on with your mother, but that doesn’t mean I can’t feel sadness over her death.”

I decided to ask her a question about her mother. I know that her mother had been an ‘accidental’ mistress of Father and that she wasn’t a real Princess because of it. I also know that her mother had died before I was born, so I was curious.

“How did you feel when your mother died Mary?”

She didn’t answer my question though; she just started crying and went back to praying. That annoyed me, but I know it’s rude to stop people while they’re praying and so I too returned to praying.

We both seemed to end at the same time and when we were walking I turned to her and said,

“Mary, why don’t you like my mama?”

Again she looked shocked and then she just looked sad. She never really smiles except around my sisters and Father, but when she is around me and Edward and Arthur and George she just looks like she wants to cry. Eventually she answered my question though.

“Harry, your mother and I were not very good friend’s. When I was little girl, around your age, our Father broke his marriage to my own mama to be with your mama. I went from being the pearl of Father’s eye to a bastard. And your mama did some very mean things to me before you were born. And after you were born, I was treated very badly by… people, so I would accept that my mama was no longer queen. After that I had to serve your mama as a lady-in-waiting. It wasn’t until your brother Edward was born that I got to stop being her servant. Even then, I am still treated like a bastard and can’t get married. This is all because of your mama, and that is why I don’t like her.”

After this talk I went back to my rooms. I almost cried for Mary, I felt very bad for her. I knew that Father and she didn’t talk much, but I didn’t know how badly she was treated. But I couldn’t cry, I was too tired.
The rest of the day was ordinary, if a bit sad. I went to the nursery to see Margaret and Edward but they were crying over mama’s death. I didn’t want to start crying again, so I went to my rooms and practiced my Latin and French for the rest of the day.

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6th of August, 1546: Lady Fitzroy again didn’t come to see me and instead Lady Brandon tucked me in. I don’t like her though because my mama never liked her. She tried to make me call her Jane once, but I didn’t want to. My Father likes her a lot, but I don’t know why. She has a big nose and never says anything interesting.

Well, my day was quite exciting. I went to go see Lady Fitzroy, who was with her daughters. I have to call Matilda Fitzroy and baby Bridget my nieces, as they’re Father is my Father’s other bastard, and they is quite nice. Matilda is not very smart, but she always asks me how my day is and today she gave me a hug. Lady Fitzroy was also with her friend Lady Howard, who is very pretty and very nice. She is my cousin apparently, and she gave me a sweetmeat.

After I got bored playing with Matilda and Bridget, I left to go see Frances Brandon. She is another of my cousins, but she was as old as Lady Mary. She has three daughters and a son. I have to call them my cousins, even though they are my cousin’s children. I like Jane and Catherine, but I can’t play with the infants Charles and Mary. When I got there Lady Brandon was there with her children Constance and Catherine, who are both nice but quiet. So I decided to leave quickly and spent some time in the chapel.

When I got there Lady Mary was talking to Lady Howard, but this time in English. I hid behind the door and heard them talk. From their tones I thought they might have been arguing, and that proved correct when Mary called Lady Howard something I won’t write down in case someone reads this. When they started yelling I walked in to try and diffuse the tension. But as I walked in, Lady Mary struck the Lady Howard across the face.

As the little Catherine Howard is thrown down I jump on Lady Mary as she goes to attack Lady Howard further. She fell onto the wall and Lady Howard scurried away like a mouse. I hope to tell father about this so he will call me a brave boy for defending a lady, even if it was just from another lady.

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7th of August, 1546: Father wouldn’t see me today, and Lady Mary refused to let me enter her rooms when I went to ask her why she was attacking Lady Howard. When I went to tell Elizabeth about it, she told me it was none of my business and that it didn’t concern me what fighting occurred between Lady Mary and Lady Howard. I told her that I wouldn’t let anyone get hurt.

Because I couldn’t see Father, I decided to finish the letter I have to write to my betrothed. She is the eldest daughter of the Scottish King, named Mary. I met her, her sister Margaret and her brother James last year when we had a feast in the North. She is quite pretty, and James was a good sport. He even gave me a book about dragons and knights that he had read. I love that book.

I must go to sleep now, as it is quite dark and tomorrow I will go to my Father early to talk about Lady Mary and Lady Howard’s fight.

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A list of Anne Boleyn's pregnancies:

1- Elizabeth Tudor (1533)

2- Miscarriage (1535- 1535)

3- Henry Tudor (1536)

4- Miscarriage (1537-1537)

5- Margaret (1538)

6- Anne (1538-1542)

7- Edward (1540)

8- Arthur (1541-1542)

9- Miscarriage (1542-1542)

10- George (1543)

11- Cecily (1543)

A list of Jane Brandon's (previously Seymour) pregnancies:

1- Miscarriage (1537-1537)

2- Constance Brandon (1539)

3- Catherine Brandon (1542)

4- Charles Brandon (1543-1545)

A list of Mary Fitzroy's children:

1- Matilda Fitzroy (1537)

2- Bridget Fitzroy (1540)

A list of Frances Grey's pregnancies:

1- Jane Grey (1537)

2- Miscarriage (1539-1540)

3- Catherine Grey (1540)

4- Henry Grey (1542-1543)

5- Mary Grey (1545)

6- Charles Grey (1545)

A list of Mary Stafford's (previously Carey, previous Boleyn) pregnancies:

- Catherine Carey (1524)

- Henry Carey (1526)

- Anne Stafford (1536)

- Alice Stafford (1537)

- Miscarriage (1540-1540)

- William Stafford (1541-1544)

- Miscarriage (1543-1543)
 
8th of August, 1546: Again Father was busy today, so I decided to spend some time with my sister Margaret, who had rooms near Elizabeth’s. But I was very happy to see her with friends, talking over a book. She was spending time with Lady Anne Stafford and Lady Alice Stafford. They were our cousins, but my Grandfather Duke Boleyn (he tells me to call him Grandfather, but everyone else has to call him Duke Boleyn or Your Grace) doesn’t like their father, who is only now a Baron.

We spent some time looking over the books of Latin, but when time came for lessons I had to leave to do my French and Latin. But they ended up being boring, so I got leave to visit my brothers and sisters in the nursery, but they were all sleeping so I snuck away to the kitchen to have a pastry.

When I was coming back, I ran into Lady Fitzroy, who was walking with her daughter Matilda. When they stopped to bow I noticed that Matilda had a bruise across her neck, which was mostly covered by hair. I went to ask, but when I saw how sad Lady Fitzroy and Matilda looked I decided against it and would instead add it to the list of things to tell the King.

Finally, I went to meet my Uncle Charles, who was in his rooms drinking wine with a few courtiers. While I don’t much care for Uncle Charles when he was drunk, I wanted to ask him if I might play with his weapons that he keeps on his wall. He didn’t let me this time, but I still stayed and listened to them as they talked over the court gossip. Apparently Lady Howard is well liked by the men, but Lady Brandon doesn’t like her. That makes me like Lady Howard even more.

I ended the day with a light dinner in my rooms, fish and various vegetables with bread. When I asked for some meat, I was told that the King My Father did not want me getting to fat. I don’t think my Father can say things like that, but I didn’t say this to them but merely asked for more bread.

I have to go to bed now, as I have decided to meet my father for breakfast tomorrow so I might speak to him.

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I really like this. The idea of surviving children of Henry and others is one used many times, but trying to tell the story from the point of view of a young boy is not. That he has to react to events that he does not know the details of or understand the ramifications is interesting to read.

Hope you will keep at this when you can. :cool:
 
I really like this. The idea of surviving children of Henry and others is one used many times, but trying to tell the story from the point of view of a young boy is not. That he has to react to events that he does not know the details of or understand the ramifications is interesting to read.

Hope you will keep at this when you can. :cool:

Thanks for the support :)
 
Thanks for the support :)

You are welcome. I have read other epistolary stories and found them enjoyable. I am not sure if you might weave some of Elizabeth's writings to add another view point of a story point. It can add additional information and offer the reader how the main writer comes across to others.
 
You are welcome. I have read other epistolary stories and found them enjoyable. I am not sure if you might weave some of Elizabeth's writings to add another view point of a story point. It can add additional information and offer the reader how the main writer comes across to others.

I'll try to do that, but it might be hard.
 
Count me in as another follower! This is really unique, and you hit on a young Harry Tudor's voice very, very well. Well done thus far.
 
9th of August, 1546: This day didn’t go as planned, but it didn’t go bad. It started out good, when a servant woke me up I was not even very sleepy, so I got ready quicker than expected. After I was dressed, which was actually fun as the new clothes I got to wear as mama has ordered them for me before she died; I headed to Father’s rooms.

When I got there I was told that Father was not awake yet, but I was allowed to wait in the rooms adjacent to his sleeping quarters. When I looked around I saw plenty of tapestries depicting his war efforts and remembered the stories that he told me and Edward, though Edward was more interested in them. I preferred to hear mama’s stories of France and Netherlands, those courts sound like the stuff of miracles, though apparently this court trumps them all.

But there was also a large family portrait I hadn’t seen in ages, done after the birth of my dead little sister Anne. It showed us all together informally, as Mister Holbein had suggested to my father. Mama stood with Father holding the then alive baby Anne while Margaret was held by Elizabeth on the other side of Father and I stood inbetween mama and Father was putting his hand on my shoulder. We were all smiling, and the figures of my dead Grandfather King Henry and Grandmother Queen Elizabeth stood to the side smiling also, with Grandfather Duke Boleyn and dead Grandmother Boleyn were on the other side.

The one picture that caught my eye, however, was the painting of Lady Mary done after she was given the title Her Lady the King’s Daughter and also the Duchy of Lancaster, though not the title of Duchess. She look so happy in the picture, but also so sad. I remember she stood at the ceremony and refused to touch my mama, even when offered her hand to help her up after tripping while walking up the stairs. I thought it was rude, but no one said anything at the time.

When my father finally joined me, I was shocked by how tired he looked. The bags under his eyes were the size of my thumb, and he had little wrinkles around his mouth that weren’t there when he gave me this diary. But he looked happy, and I saw a young lady with dark hair walk out behind us. I could tell who it was immediately, as she was one of the reasons I was here. But I decided to wait until the food was served first. Father looked hungry.
When we settle down and started eating, I was surprised Father only was eating some fruit and bread. When I offered him some of my cold meat, he simply shook his head and said that he didn’t want much. That was when I knew how hard mama’s death had hit him.

So we ate in relative silence at first. It was rather awkward, so I started to hum a tune that reminded me of mama, the Volta. Then Father started crying.

His tears were fast, like little raindrops down his face and through his beard. They were bitter and angry, like he wanted to hit something. But when I touched his shoulder, he pulled me next to him an broke down further.
He was so sad; I didn’t want to tell him about Lady Howard and Lady Mary. It seemed silly now, and if I saw anything else happen I would say something then. So instead I gave Father a hug and cried with him, letting my own sadness for mama overwhelm me as well.

After a while we were both spent, and Father called a servant to clean up the table and pulled me along to a room near his bedroom, a small door led us to an enclosed cupboard that was filled with pictures and candles.

I looked in wonder, wondering what this magical room was. Some paintings were of my close family, some of distant relatives and some of people I didn’t know. When I reached a picture of a woman in that ugly house hat that Lady Mary wears (it’s called a gable hood, but I don’t like it so it’s a house hat) and pretty blue eyes Father put his hand on my shoulder.

“That’s your Grandmother the Queen, my Lady Mother. I loved her very much, and I miss her as much as you miss your mama.”

I was curious now, so I leaned further in and stared deeply at the painting, looking to see any similar features between the painting and my brothers and sisters. I saw that Elizabeth had similar eyebrows and skin to her, Margaret had the same hair colour (almost as red as Father’s but slightly more golden), Edward and George had the same nose and little Cecily was the closest in appearance, but with mama’s nose and eyes.

When I said this, Father laughed and said:

“Yes Harry, you all seem to have little bits of my Mother in you, though you all look more like your mother than anyone else. You especially are so like her I sometimes wonder if she didn't forget to put any on me in you when you were being made.”

This made me happy as I wanted to be as like mama as possible, as I could never be like Father. But then I saw another picture, one of an old woman dressed all in black. Her face was very wrinkled and I realized that I had her eyes. They were dark and wide, but not shaped like mama’s.
“She had my eyes.”

“Oh, yes. You and my Grandmother of all people. Only you and my brother Edward took anything from her.”

I sensed that he was getting tired and, scarier, sad. So I offered that I would be late to lessons and asked to be dismissed. He accepted this, and I left to go do my Mathematics and Latin lessons. I may hate Mathematics, but today was money study and I understood most of it as I have been studying the accounts of my household privately for a week now as I heard some courtier say that I was ‘a most expensive child’.

After that, Edward came for a visit and I taught him how to make a deer shadow with his hands and how to throw a ball so it comes back by itself. That last trick impressed him the most, though I thought the shadow was better myself.

I ended the day with reading the bible, in English as mama had given me one for Christmas last year, as she felt I should know it in all languages. It wasn’t as hard to understand as Latin, but I can’t show Lady Mary or else she’ll get angry.

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The tidbits of a child mind really make this story interesting. I might wonder who was the woman who came out with the King. A new mistress to console him?
 
10th of August, 1546: I didn’t do much of anything today. I sent time with my tutor learning my Latin and French and worked on my singing, as it is the only musical talent I possess. Father sometimes says I could sing for eternity and not ever get bored or crack my voice, which is the kindest thing he has ever said to me without mama being there. Today we sang hymns, and I managed to hit the highest note.

Other than this, Margaret gave me a visit, and she gave me a grass hat she had made the day before. This was the first time she had visited me since mama’s death, and she was not as fun as he used to be. I offered to help her pile the cushions from my room together so we could jump on them as we once did. But she declined, giving me the hat and leaving soon after. I hope she recovers soon, he seems so melancholy.

I ended the day with some drawing, and was quite happy when Master Holbein came to help me draw my mama’s face as she was when I was born. Of course I have portraits, but I want to be able to draw her as I remember her. I think the drawing is good.

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