by Jean Plaidy
So she, a determined woman grappling with many problems, had decided to act boldly. But if the Earl of Sandwich did not come soon, the Spaniards would be marching on Lisbon.
So each day she waited, but in vain.
Had the English learned that she could not find the money for the dowry? How could she know what spies there were in her Court? The Spaniards were cunning; they had been conquerors for a long time; and she was a poor Queen fighting a lonely battle for the independence of her country and the glory of her royal house.
Soon news came to her. The Spaniards were on the march. They were forging ahead towards the unfortified towns on the Portuguese seaboard.
Luiza was in despair. This attack was to be stronger than any the Spaniards had ever launched against their neighbours. Their aim was to see that, by the time the King of England’s ambassadors came to claim the daughter of the royal house of Portugal, there would be no royal house. They were throwing great forces into the struggle; for ever since the defeat of their ‘invincible’ Armada in the reign of the great Elizabeth, the Spaniards had held the English in dread, and it was their endeavour to prevent at all costs the alliance between little Portugal and that country whose seamen they feared beyond any mortal beings.
So all her schemes had been in vain, thought Luiza. Her people would fight; but they had never had to face such a mighty army as now came against them. She saw ahead years of weary warfare, of frustration and struggle, the English marriage repudiated, and Catherine growing too old for matrimony.
She could no longer bear to look ahead. She shut herself into her apartments. She wanted to be alone to consider her next move.
She would not give up. She would somehow send Catherine to England. The King had promised to marry her. He must marry her.
*
She had said she was not to be disturbed, but Catherine came running into the apartment. Her face was flushed, and she ran as best she could, greatly impeded by her cumbrous farthingale.
‘Catherine,’ said her mother sternly; for in that moment Catherine bore no resemblance to an Infanta of the royal house.
‘Mother! Dearest Mother . . . quickly! Come and look.’
‘What has happened, my child? What has happened to make you so far forget . . .’
‘Come, Mother. It is what we have been waiting for so long. The English are here. They have been sighted in the bay.’
Luiza turned to her daughter and embraced her. There were tears on her cheek, for she too had forgotten the formal etiquette of the Court.
‘They have come in time!’ she said.
And she looked in wonder at this daughter who, she had always known, had been born to save her country.
*
There was rejoicing throughout Lisbon as the English came ashore. The Infanta Catherine, the Queen of England, had been born to save them; and here was another sign from heaven to assure her people that this was so. The commanders of the Spanish army, having heard the news and remembering the terrible havoc wrought on their country’s ships by the Satanic El Draque in another century, would not stay to face the English. They turned back to the border and retreated as quickly as they could to safety. Some had seen the ships in the bay – the Royal Charles, the Royal James, and the Gloucester with their accompanying fleet of vessels. To those Spanish soldiers, brought up on the story of that ill-fated Armada which had broken the hopes of great Philip II when it came into conflict with a fleet of inferior vessels yet led by a man of supernatural powers, one glimpse was enough. The great ships seemed to have about them a quality which was not of this world, for it seemed that with them they had brought the spirit of Drake. So the army turned tail, and the Portuguese were saved from their enemies; and how would they dare attack again, knowing that the English were united with their little neighbour through marriage!
Luiza fell on to her knees and uttered prayers of thankfulness to God and His saints. The greatest danger was over; but there still remained the matter of the dowry. However, that could be shelved for the moment; since God had willed that her daughter should be born to save her country, Luiza doubted not that He would show her some way out of the difficulty.
In the meantime there must be a great welcome for the saviours of her country. The people did not need to be ordered to hang out their banners. They were wild with the happiness which comes from relief; they were ready to rejoice. The best bulls had already been brought to Lisbon in readiness for the welcome; it was only a matter of hours before the streets were hung with banners of cloth of gold and tapestry; crowds were on the banks of the river as Don Pedro de Almeida, Controller of Alphonso’s household, rowed out in the royal barge to welcome the ambassadors of the King of England. The guns roared as the Earl of Sandwich and his friends were brought ashore. The people cheered as the King’s coach carried him to the Palace of the Marquez Castello Rodrigo, where Alphonso was waiting to receive him.
Now the city of Lisbon showed the English what a royal welcome it could give to its friends. Banners, depicting the King of England and the Portuguese Infanta, hands joined, were carried through the streets; the bells of all the churches rang out, bull-fight followed bull-fight, and every Englishman was a guest of honour.
‘Long live the King and Queen of England!’ cried the people throughout the city of Lisbon, and that cry was echoed in those towns and villages which had so recently been spared the tyranny of Spain.
*
Queen Luiza chose a moment when the Earl of Sandwich had returned from a lavish entertainment, given in his honour, to ask him to her council chamber. On the previous day he had suggested to her that his master was impatient for his bride, and that he wished not to incur His Majesty’s displeasure by further delay. The Queen knew he had been late in arriving at Lisbon, because he had found it necessary to subdue the pirates of the Mediterranean, who must be taught to respect the English flag; moreover, taking possession of Tangier, the task with which he had been commissioned before coming to convey the Infanta to England, had not been accomplished as quickly as he had hoped. The Moors had offered some opposition, and it had been necessary to overcome that. He anticipated no further trouble there, but had been obliged to leave a garrison in the town. As he considered these matters he thought he should lose no time in making his preparations to return; and so was eager to begin immediately to get the dowry aboard.
Luiza had known then that there was nothing for her to do but to explain her difficulties. She therefore arranged this Council meeting to take place after the Earl had been assured once more of the love the Portuguese had for his master and his master’s country.
The miracle for which she had hoped had not come to pass. There was no means of providing the money she had promised. There was therefore nothing to be done but admit the truth.
She faced him boldly. ‘My lord, in these last months we have faced troublous times. Our old enemy had determined to do all in his power to prevent the match which is so desired by both our countries. When the marriage was ratified the dowry was ready and waiting to be shipped to England, but our enemies stole upon us, and it was necessary to raise men and arms against them. For that reason we were forced to use part of the money, which was intended for our daughter’s dowry, in the defence of our country.’
The Earl was dumbfounded. He had been ordered to bring back with him that money which he knew to be the very reason why his impecunious master had found the Portuguese match so desirable.
Luiza, watching the expressions of dismay flit across his face, knew he was wondering whether he should abandon Catherine and return to England without her. Panic filled her. She visualized not only the retreat of the English, but ignominious defeat at the hands of the Spaniards. Then she remembered that Catherine was destined to save her country, and her confidence returned.
The Earl of Sandwich was meanwhile taking into consideration the fact that he had at some cost gained possession of Tangier, and had left an English garrison there. He was also calculating the cost of c
onveying that garrison back to England.
Meanwhile Luiza went on: ‘Half the portion shall be delivered on board the King of England’s ships without delay, and I pledge myself to send the other half before another year has passed.’
The Earl made a quick decision. Half the money was better than nothing; and the whole affair had gone too far for withdrawal; so, bowing before the Queen, he declared that, since it was his Queen in whom His Majesty of England was primarily interested, he would accept half the marriage portion now, and the other half within a year as the Queen had suggested; and, as soon as the moiety was on his ship he would be ready to convey the King’s bride to England.
Luiza smiled. The rest would be simple. She would merely have bags of sugar and spices and such commodities shipped aboard the English fleet in place of the money which it was quite impossible to supply.
*
Luiza held her daughter in a last embrace. Both knew that they, who had been so close, might never see each other’s face again. Neither shed a tear; they knew they dare not, for if they once allowed any sign of weakness to be visible they would break down completely before all the grandees and fidalgos of the Portuguese Court and the seamen of England.
‘Always remember your duty to the King your husband, and to your country.’
‘I will, Mother.’
Luiza still clung to her daughter. She was wondering: Should I warn her once more against that evil woman Castlemaine, for whom they say the King of England has an unholy passion? No! It is better not. Catherine in her very innocence may discover a way to deal with the woman. Better for her not to know too much.
‘Remember all I have taught you.’
‘Goodbye, dearest Mother.’
‘Goodbye, my child. Remember always that you are the saviour of your country. Remember always to obey your husband. Goodbye, my love, my little one.’
I should not grieve, thought Luiza. All I wished for has happened. The Spaniards no longer molest us; we have the English as our allies, bound to us by the ties of affection and marriage.
That little matter of the dowry had been satisfactorily settled, although she had been afraid that the Earl of Sandwich was on the point of refusing to accept the sugar and spices in place of the gold. However, he had agreed to take it, after it had been arranged that Diego Silvas, a clever Jew, should accompany the sugar and spice to England and there make arrangements to dispose of it for gold which would be paid into the English Exchequer.
God and the saints be praised! thought Luiza. All difficulties have been surmounted, and I have nothing to fear now. There is just that grief which a mother must feel when parting with a beloved daughter.
How young Catherine looked! Younger than her years. Has she been too sheltered? Luiza anxiously demanded of herself. Does she know too little of the world? How will she fare in that gay Court? But God will look after her. God has decided on her destiny.
The last embrace, the last pressure of the hand had taken place, and Catherine was walking between her elder brother, the King, and her younger brother, the Infante. She turned before entering the waiting coach to curtsey to her mother.
Luiza watched them, and a hundred pictures from the past flashed through her mind as she did so. She remembered their birth, the happy days at Villa Viçosa and that important occasion of Catherine’s second birthday.
‘Goodbye,’ she murmured. ‘Goodbye, little Catherine.’
Through the streets went the royal coach, under the triumphal arches past the cheering people to the Cathedral, where Mass was celebrated. Catherine, who had rarely left the seclusion of the Palace, felt as though she were living through a fantastic dream. The shouting, cheering people, the magnificence of the streets, and their decorations of damask and cloth of gold, the images of herself and Charles were like pictures conjured from the imagination. After the ceremony the coach took her, her brothers, and their magnificent retinue to the Terreiro do Paço where she was to embark on the barge which would carry her to the Royal Charles.
Among those who were to go with her were Maria de Portugal and Elvira de Vilpena. ‘You will not feel lonely,’ her mother had said, ‘for you will have, as well as your suite of six ladies and duenna, those two old friends of your childhood who together will try to be what I have always been to you.’
The ceremony of going aboard was a very solemn one. A salute was fired from the Royal Charles, which carried 600 men and 80 brass cannon, and all the noblest in the retinue which had accompanied her to the Paço knelt before her to kiss her hand. Catherine stepped into the royal barge, and to the sound of music and cheering was rowed out to the Royal Charles.
As she became conscious of the swell beneath her feet a feeling of terrible desolation swept over her. She had been living in dreams; she had thought continually of her husband – the perfect King, the gentle Prince who had offered his life in exchange for his father’s, the lover who had written such tender notes. And now she became acutely aware of all that she was losing – her home, the love of her brothers and, most of all, her mother.
And Catherine was afraid.
Elvira was beside her. ‘Your Majesty should go at once to your cabin. And you should stay there until we set sail.’
Catherine did not answer, but she allowed herself to be led to the cabin.
Maria said to her: ‘The King himself designed your cabin in this his best beloved ship. I have heard it is the most magnificent cabin that ever was in a ship.’
Catherine was thinking: So it may be, but how can I think of my cabin now, even though he planned it for me? Oh, Mother . . . I am twenty-three, I know, and a woman, but I am only a little girl really. I have never left my home before; I have rarely left the Palace . . . and now I have to go so far away, and I cannot bear it . . . I cannot . . . for I may never return.
Now they were inspecting the cabin. In it, they were saying, was all that a Queen could wish for. A royal cabin and a state room! Had she ever seen the like? Both apartments were decorated with gold, and lined with velvet. Would she take a look at the bed? It was red and white and richly embroidered. Could she believe that she was on board a ship! Look at the taffeta and damask at the windows, and the carpets on the floor!
Now she must rest, and stay in her cabin until the ship reached England, for it would not be meet for a Queen and lady of the royal house of Portugal to show herself to the sailors.
But Catherine had turned away. The closeness of the cabin with its rich decorations seemed to suffocate her. She could not remain there. She could not now consider Portuguese etiquette.
She turned and went on to the deck, determined to look at her native land as long as it was in view.
All that day and the night that followed, the Royal Charles with Catherine on board lay becalmed in the bay of Lisbon; but in the morning a wind sprang up and, accompanied by the Royal James, Gloucester, and fourteen men-of-war, the ship crossed the bar and sailed out to sea. It was a magnificent sight.
On the deck, waving aside all those who would come near her, was Catherine, Queen of England, Infanta of Portugal, straining to see, through the tears she could no longer restrain, the last of her native land.
*
After seventeen days at sea, to the great relief of all aboard, the English coast came into view. Elvira had suffered from a fever during the voyage. Catherine herself felt exhausted and weak and as the days passed she was beset by many doubts. It was one thing to dream of the perfect marriage with the perfect man, but when to accomplish it meant leaving behind her home and beloved family, she could not experience complete joy.
She had even had doubts about her husband’s virtues as the voyage progressed. It might have been that, in imminent peril of losing their lives, those about her had not succeeded in hiding their feelings as they had in calmer moments. Catherine knew that those who loved her were afraid for her; she knew that they were thinking of the woman Castlemaine, of whom she must never speak. She herself was afraid. As she lay in her cabin, tosse
d by the erratic movement of the ship, she had felt so ill that she had almost wished for death. But then it had seemed that her mother was near her, urging her to remember her duty, not only to her husband, but to Portugal.
She had wept a little; she had cried for her mother, cried for her home and the quiet of the Lisbon Palace.
It was well that her weakness could be kept secret from those about her.
But she had felt happier when they had come in sight of land and, as they approached the Isle of Wight, the Duke of York’s squadron hove in sight. Immediately word was sent to her that the Duke, brother to the King, had sent a message craving her permission to come aboard the Royal Charles that he might kiss her hand.
Soon he had come, with the gentlemen of his suite; the Duke of Ormond, the Earl of Chesterfield, the Earl of Suffolk and other fine gentlemen.
They were all dazzlingly dressed, and as her brother-in-law approached to kiss her hand, Catherine was glad that she had disregarded Maria’s and Elvira’s injunctions to receive the visitors in her native dress. She realized that it would seem strange to these gentlemen and that they would expect her to be dressed as the ladies of their Court. So she wore a dress which had been provided for her by the indefatigable and so tactful Richard Fanshawe; it was made of white and silver lace, and Elvira and Maria held up their hands in horror at the sight of her. It was, they declared, indecent compared with her Portuguese costume.
But she refused to listen to them and, in the cabin which had been hastily turned into a small presence chamber, she received these gentlemen.
The Duke set out to charm her, and this he succeeded in doing, for, although his manners with ladies were considered somewhat clumsy by the members of his brother’s Court, Catherine sensed his great desire to please, and she was only too ready to be pleased.
They talked in Spanish and, as the Duke was eager to dispense with ceremony, Catherine was delighted to do so. She asked for news of the King, and James told her many things concerning her husband: how he loved ships, and what care he had spent in decking this one out that it might be worthy to receive his bride; how he loved on occasion to take a hand at the tiller himself; he told of the improvements he had made in his parks and houses; how he loved a gamble at the races; how he made experiments in his laboratories, and grew strange herbs in his physic garden; he told her a great deal about his brother and mentioned the names of many ladies and gentlemen of the Court, but never once did the name of Castlemaine pass his lips.
