There was something so strange and exotic about her that made her different from any woman he had ever known. He thought of her spending her childhood in strange Moorish palaces; he thought of all the rich articles she had brought with her to England. He knew that they made his father’s eyes gleam with pleasure and rub his hands together in an anticipation of touching them. The daughter of the Sovereigns of Spain! How truly exciting. He had heard that the wagons which had come with her were full of priceless treasure—carpets of exquisite design; beds, intricately carved; cloths of the finest texture to say nothing of jewels and plate. And all this for Arthur!
Now he could not take his eyes from her. She wore a coif of white silk with a scarf spattered with gold and stones of many colors. It covered half her face as well as a good deal of her person. She told him that it was called a mantilla. Her gown was pleated and spread out in hoops from her tiny waist. It was the first time Henry had seen the fashion which he was to see many times later as it was noticed by many of the ladies who determined to imitate it.
He enjoyed leading her to the Cathedral and all the time he was suppressing his envy of Arthur.
And there was Arthur waiting in the Cathedral dressed in white satin, looking handsome and slightly less fragile than usual.
Henry noticed that his parents were not present and tried not to look up at the latticed box from where he knew they would be watching.
And so Arthur was married to the Princess of Spain and Arthur was now taking his bride to the door of the Cathedral so that the people in the streets could see them.
The cheers were deafening. There was no doubt that the people were pleased with Prince Arthur and his Spanish Princess.
Now Henry was to the fore again for it was his task to lead the bride from the Cathedral to the Bishop’s Palace where the banquet was waiting for them. His Aunt Cecilia, who had been widowed on the death of her husband Lord Wells some three years before, was one of the train bearers.
The feast had begun. There must be such a display as would impress the Spaniards and the King was determined that, much as he deplored spending the money, there should be nothing of which to complain.
And after the feasting there was the ceremony of the bedding, which had been causing not only the married pair but the King and Queen so much anxiety.
First the bed must be examined for lurking weapons—knives and daggers—concealed among the feathers. The moment which Arthur and Katharine had both been dreading had arrived.
There was the usual ribaldry and Arthur was glad that Katharine could not speak the language. The bed had been scented and sprinkled with holy water and the word which was used most frequently was fruitful. Katharine had always known that the first duty of a Princess was to get children but she was afraid and knew very little of the process necessary to their production.
Katharine was undressed by her ladies and, still veiled and in her bedgown, she was conducted to the bedchamber. Arthur had been led in—having similarly been disrobed by his attendants—and the two young people stood facing each other apprehensively.
The bed curtains were drawn back. The bed was blessed and the moment had come.
The King then approached them and said in a low voice which few but the bride and groom could hear: “You are young yet. There is plenty of time before you. You are not ready for marriage. There should be no consummation . . . until you are a little older.”
He was looking anxiously at his son. He need not have worried. Arthur was looking immensely relieved.
Katharine was smiling too.
So they were led to the bed where they lay side by side. Arthur reached for Katharine’s hand and held it fast; and they talked quietly together in Latin . . . until they fell asleep.
The pageantry continued. Before Westminster Hall a tiltyard was set up. There was a loge for the King’s party hung with cloth of gold; and round the entire area stages had been built for the people to sit and watch the tournament. It was received with the utmost delight. The people declared they had never seen such entertainment and they wished they had a marriage every week. It was wonderful to see the knights tilting with each other. They pointed out the famous people as they saw them. All knew the King and Queen and the royal children of course but figures like the Marquis of Dorset and the Earl of Essex and Lord William Courtney were names to them until they saw them take on life in the arena.
At dusk the party returned to Westminster Hall for feasting and dancing and Katharine would distribute the prizes won at the tournament.
The ladies took their places on the King’s left hand—Katharine with Queen Elizabeth, and the King’s mother the Countess of Richmond, the Princesses Margaret and Mary and other members of the family such as Lady Wells. On the King’s right hand was Arthur, Henry and other nobles arranged according to their rank.
The pageants were beautiful and all was done in honor of the marriage; and there was much dancing and singing.
Arthur must dance, of course, and the King had suggested that his Aunt Cecilia perform with him. Always, thought Henry, he must dance with elderly people. My father is afraid that the young would dance too fast for him. Arthur however looked graceful in his white satin and Aunt Cecilia was certainly determined not to force him into too much exertion, cleverly giving the impression that it was for her benefit rather than his.
Young Henry was waiting his chance. When it came he would show them. There would be no need for anyone to slow him down. He had always excelled at dancing and he was going to show the assembled company how much better he could perform than his brother.
His eyes fell on his sister Margaret. He and Margaret had never been good friends, but he did admire her dancing. She was as good as he was . . . or almost. The two of them together could astonish the company.
He could not wait. He went to her and took her hand. She was longing to dance too. She wanted some of the applause which had gone to others for doing something she knew she could do far better.
For a second she scowled at her brother. Then she smiled. She had to admit that he could dance well too and
