11 August – 7 September 1532
The King motioned for both Suffolk and Norfolk to accompany him into his private stall before the service began.
“Charles, did Mary, did she acknowledge that her mother and I were never married legally?” He asked Suffolk without preamble. Brandon’s surprise showed on his face.
“Sire, she was worried about you and about whether or not her mourning would be appropriate; she had little funds and the white was cheaper, so I told her French mourning would be acceptable to the Lady Anne. The subject of her mother and you ne’er came up.”
The King sighed. “If she would but admit that….” He let the sentence trail off. Suffolk and Norfolk eyes met, this had been one of the things discussed after Cromwell’s dismissal the night before.
Norfolk took the lead. “Your Majesty, you plan to wed again, not soon, nor do you have a maiden in mind, but you will have a son to follow you, no?”
“Of course, I am man, just like you and Charles, here.”
“Then you can afford to be generous, as you will choose who Princes Mary weds: agree that the Princess is legitimate, as she would be if she were a subject. You and Katherine wed in good faith, so like any good Christians, your children are legitimate. Your son will displace her in the succession and you will write the contract for Mary’s marriage.” Suffolk pointed out. “The Qu- Princess of Spain will have less room to complain in that case. And what Mary thinks of the legitimacy of the marriage will be negated, she is a woman and likely to take another woman’s side. Few were like the Lady Anne.” Inwardly, he was grateful that, he hadn’t been a fan of the aggressive daughter of Thomas Boleyn. “Why don’t I have my wife visit her and see what comes of that?”
The King nodded absently. “Why couldn’t he just let her go? Why do you think Northumberland poisoned me?”
“Jealousy?” Both men spoke at the same time, but only Norfolk continued speaking. “I’ve heard the man’s wife lived with her father and they were not happy. Perhaps the thought of his former love happy was more than he could bear.”
The priest began the reading and all three fell silent.
The Duchess of Suffolk was almost always considered the “French Queen” from her short, unhappy time as the wife of Louis XII. She invited Queen Katherine to join her at her home, citing her own growing illness – the “Tudor curse” as she phrased it. Katherine arrived at the end of August, happy to see her friend and sister by marriage. She was not as happy to hear what Mary had to say.
“You, like me, are growing older. If Henry will allow that your daughter with him will be the first among his daughters and legitimate, married and dowered as a princess, how can you refuse to withdraw, citing only your inability to have children now and ignoring his complaint about his brother. We know the truth; that Arthur was not ready to be a husband, that Father had no business sending him into Wales with his weak lungs and constitution.”
“But I love him.”
Mary smiled, then began to cough. It took her several minutes to be able to speak again. “You have always been holier than Henry. Now you will be the prayer warrior who keeps him safe from the likes of women like Lady Anne Boleyn.” Her emphasis on the word ‘Lady’ told the Queen what she thought of the late, lamented (by Henry) former lady-in-waiting to Katherine. “He will do this with or without your cooperation; and he’s already passed the submission of the clergy. To keep the Mother Church in England, I think you should retire because the time of women has passed you and your husband wishes a son to ensure the safety of the realm. You and I know that Mary can hold England, but Henry is stubborn and that woman convinced him otherwise.”
The King motioned for both Suffolk and Norfolk to accompany him into his private stall before the service began.
“Charles, did Mary, did she acknowledge that her mother and I were never married legally?” He asked Suffolk without preamble. Brandon’s surprise showed on his face.
“Sire, she was worried about you and about whether or not her mourning would be appropriate; she had little funds and the white was cheaper, so I told her French mourning would be acceptable to the Lady Anne. The subject of her mother and you ne’er came up.”
The King sighed. “If she would but admit that….” He let the sentence trail off. Suffolk and Norfolk eyes met, this had been one of the things discussed after Cromwell’s dismissal the night before.
Norfolk took the lead. “Your Majesty, you plan to wed again, not soon, nor do you have a maiden in mind, but you will have a son to follow you, no?”
“Of course, I am man, just like you and Charles, here.”
“Then you can afford to be generous, as you will choose who Princes Mary weds: agree that the Princess is legitimate, as she would be if she were a subject. You and Katherine wed in good faith, so like any good Christians, your children are legitimate. Your son will displace her in the succession and you will write the contract for Mary’s marriage.” Suffolk pointed out. “The Qu- Princess of Spain will have less room to complain in that case. And what Mary thinks of the legitimacy of the marriage will be negated, she is a woman and likely to take another woman’s side. Few were like the Lady Anne.” Inwardly, he was grateful that, he hadn’t been a fan of the aggressive daughter of Thomas Boleyn. “Why don’t I have my wife visit her and see what comes of that?”
The King nodded absently. “Why couldn’t he just let her go? Why do you think Northumberland poisoned me?”
“Jealousy?” Both men spoke at the same time, but only Norfolk continued speaking. “I’ve heard the man’s wife lived with her father and they were not happy. Perhaps the thought of his former love happy was more than he could bear.”
The priest began the reading and all three fell silent.
The Duchess of Suffolk was almost always considered the “French Queen” from her short, unhappy time as the wife of Louis XII. She invited Queen Katherine to join her at her home, citing her own growing illness – the “Tudor curse” as she phrased it. Katherine arrived at the end of August, happy to see her friend and sister by marriage. She was not as happy to hear what Mary had to say.
“You, like me, are growing older. If Henry will allow that your daughter with him will be the first among his daughters and legitimate, married and dowered as a princess, how can you refuse to withdraw, citing only your inability to have children now and ignoring his complaint about his brother. We know the truth; that Arthur was not ready to be a husband, that Father had no business sending him into Wales with his weak lungs and constitution.”
“But I love him.”
Mary smiled, then began to cough. It took her several minutes to be able to speak again. “You have always been holier than Henry. Now you will be the prayer warrior who keeps him safe from the likes of women like Lady Anne Boleyn.” Her emphasis on the word ‘Lady’ told the Queen what she thought of the late, lamented (by Henry) former lady-in-waiting to Katherine. “He will do this with or without your cooperation; and he’s already passed the submission of the clergy. To keep the Mother Church in England, I think you should retire because the time of women has passed you and your husband wishes a son to ensure the safety of the realm. You and I know that Mary can hold England, but Henry is stubborn and that woman convinced him otherwise.”