Ooh the Douglas-Boleyn match is very interesting, I get the feeling Archibald will be rather prominent if he doesn't do anything stupid. As far as brides go, hmmm maybe James will look for someone from Germany or Italy? Plenty of rich girls to be had in either.
An Imperial Match: Anne Boleyn marries Charles V
- Thread starter pandizzy
- Start date
A Cleves princess, perhaps? I would say Catherine de’Medici but she’s betrothed to little Ludovico Sforza.
Wilhelm would be known as William the Rich later in his life. I'm just saying...
True, but the remaining Boleyns were out of factor for the rest of their lives.
Well yeah. Mary didn't get as much records of her life between her exile and the whole may 1536 part.
Family Tree - Jocasta Culpeper's Line
We'll visit the Seymour-Howard household soon enough so I thought I'd put out the family tree of these siblings before we see where they were sent after their mother died.
Jocasta "Joyce" Culpeper (1480-1528) m. a) Ralph Leigh (1479-1509); b) Edmund Howard (1478- ).
Jocasta "Joyce" Culpeper (1480-1528) m. a) Ralph Leigh (1479-1509); b) Edmund Howard (1478- ).
- a) Isabel Leigh (1496-)
- a) Ralph Leigh (1498- ) m. Margaret Ireland (?-)
- John Leigh (?-)
- a) Margaret Leigh (1500-)
- a) John Leigh (1502-) m. Elizabeth of Unknown Surname (?-)
- Agnes Leigh (1515-)
- a) Joyce Leigh (1504-)
- b) Margaret Howard (1515-)
- b) Henry Howard (1517-)
- b) Mary Howard (1520-)
- b) Charles Howard (1522-)
- b) Katherine Howard (1524-)
- b) George Howard (1526-)
She actually didn't marry until she was well into her thirties, in 1531
Geez, she married late for that time period!Because her first marriage happened in 1531
Not really. Lower english nobility married in their late twenties to early thirties, since they didn't have long lines to upheld.
16th of October, 1528.
Little Bookham, England. 16th of October, 1528.
Margaret Howard woke up, as she always did, at seven in the morning. By this point, after having lived at her uncle's house since Mama's death, she did not need her lady's maid to rouse her and Maggie woke up immediately. She sat up on her long and singular bed, rubbing her eyes as she pushed away the strands of brown hair that had escaped from her nightly plait. At the other side of the room, her sister Mary was already awake, sleepily putting down her chamber pot as she adjusted her nightgown.
"Good morning," she whispered and Mary turned to look at her, wide-eyed as if Maggie had frightened her.
Then, her little sister smiled, the little gap between her teeth becoming apparent even despite the difference. "Good morning," she said in her high and sing-song voice. Mary was just eight, with round blue eyes and pouty lips, whereas Maggie, thirteen, had the reddish-blonde hair and hooked nose of the Howards.
She stood up, already pulling her nightgown off by the neckline and began to dress herself quietly. Lady Howard had assigned maids to care for them after they arrived at her home, but she also made quite clear that she expected Maggie and Mary to care for themselves to the best of their capabilities. This meant that, more often than not, Maggie dressed herself and assisted Mary in dressing herself.
She didn't mind it. In fact, she rather enjoyed choosing her own clothes and shoes, because it made her feel grown up. When she first came to Little Bookham, Maggie had only two dresses, but now, she had almost ten and five different shoes!
The manor was quite practical in that they should reuse the same clothes multiple times, but it was not the same level of impoverishment that Maggie had when she still lived with papa. Mama always told her that it was best to economize, which meant she wore her shoes until her toes peeked out and more, but now Lady Howard always bought her new pairs if they were broken beyond fixing. Even Mary, who outgrew her shoes practically every month, had new pairs, as well as twenty stockings and shifts to change daily.
They shared a bedroom, but not a bed and Kitty wasn't there to pull and kick at them during the night. They had a governess named Alice Parker, who was a distant cousin to the King and the sister of their Lady Aunt's sister-in-law.
It was a good life, with structure and stability. Maggie loved it. She loved knowing exactly what was going to happen, what she could expect from her day. At mama and papa's house, every day was new and sometimes, that was not a good thing. Papa was always away and Maggie had to help mama with the babies, since John and Ralph had gone to be married and Isabel, Joyce and Margaret were serving other noble ladies like her Lady Grandmother. Kitty was very needy, always wanting to be held and George's coughing made mama pay more attention to him than the rest.
Now, Maggie had no one to care for beyond Mary, who was already old enough to do most things. She could be a girl of thirteen, not Sister Maggie who was more of a nursemaid than a noble lady.
She put on her green dress, with simple sleeves that hung down to her ankles. Lady Howard wanted them to wear English hoods like good English girls, so she removed the plait from her hair and brushed it thoroughly. When it was soft once more, Maggie braided it and pinned it up.
When they were both done, Maggie and Mary tidied up their beds. It was around eight now and they had to go down for breakfast, Maggie first as the eldest. The manor at Little Bookham was rather small for a baron, so it took no time for them to arrive at the private hall where they ate. Her aunt and uncle often had Mary and Maggie eating with them, saying a family who ate together, stayed together.
And there was nothing more important than family.
--
Lisbon, Portugal. 2nd of November, 1528.
Queen Leonor entered the crypt in silence, her heart racing. She clutched the rosary tightly in her hand, fingers clenched so hard that she's half afraid the chord would snap, but in truth, she doesn't care. Her mind is far too focused on other things, her mouth dry.
There are two marbled tombs in the dark crypt and she can see the engravings on the white stone, visible even under the waning candle light. MARIA, IOANNES III FILIA; MICHAELIS, IOANNES III FILIUS. Miguel and Maria, her precious babes who were taken far too soon from her. Leonor, wearing mourning garbs suited for the day, stepped forward with open arms. Her fingers slid across the cold marble, reading the information of their birth dates, their deaths. João had ordered for a psalm to be written on their graves, eternally standing in memory of their lost children. Non moriar sed vivam et narrabo opera Domini.
"My little loves," said Leonor, breathless, "Mamãe is here. I have returned, as I said I would." She took a deep breath, warm tears sliding down her face.
It had been five years since Maria died, but Leonor still felt the pain as keenly as she did the first day. She bit her lower lip, telling herself not to scream, not to give in to the pain, because if she did… if she started to wail, she thought she would never stop.
And Miguel. Miguel had died last August of pneumonia. Leonor had done what she could to try and save him, bathed him, fed him mulled wine and heavy porridges and yet it was not enough. It was never enough.
"I will never forget you," she murmured. "I swear it." A bitter smile crossed her face, as she slid her palms down the cold marble. "Papai hasn't either, I promise. It's just very difficult for him. Please, forgive the King as much as you can. He loves you with all his heart, but to be here so close to death, to remind himself of what happened… It would destroy him."
Leonor held her breath, feeling the wind running through her, as if the Lord himself was present. As if her children were running around her, untethered to earthly pains and sufferings.
"These have not been easy days," said Leonor. "Tio Fernando has died. The son of the traitorous Duke of Coimbra challenged him to a duel and took the life of our beloved Duke of Guarda." Her fingers clench, almost as if she could scratch out the eyes of her enemy. "Tio Luís will marry Guiomar Coutinho, who is just a year older than him." She smiled then, a painful and sad smile. "I envy Tio Fernando, for he is with you, and I'm here, missing you with all my heart."
She took a deep breath. Leonor remembered her mother, her eternal longing and mourning for her father. Now, she could almost understand the Queen. She too felt like going mad after losing two of her six children.
"I will return," she said, voice choked with unshed tears, "But to stay here is difficult for me too."
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Poor Leonor…her love for her children, even in death, is painfully evident. Hopefully she finds some solace
And I’m not sure where you’re going with the Howard girls but I’m interested!
It's hard. There's hardly any support group for those who lost children around.