Mary I: Her Mother's Daughter

by Samantha Wilcoxson

Katherine of Aragon as the Madonna
painted by Michael Sittow

We all inherit a few habits and characteristics from our mothers – for better or worse. This is no less true for Queen Mary I and her mother Katherine of Aragon. The interesting thing about the similarities between these women is that one is remembered rather fondly and with great sympathy, while the other has been branded with the label ‘Bloody Mary.’

Katherine is widely admired for her refusal to back down when Henry VIII decided to set her aside. A bold combination of stubbornness and faith gave Katherine the strength to remain steadfast, regardless of what Henry put her through. She was never disrespectful, often saying that she would honor her husband’s will in all things, save where her conscience demanded that she followed God. Similar words would be used by her daughter. Henry appreciated the sentiment from neither.

Mary stood up to her father, much as her mother had, continuing to proclaim her love and respect for him while at the same time demanding that no title besides Princess was appropriate for her. Henry had long separated Mary from her mother, but she had her governess, Margaret Pole the Countess of Salisbury, at her side to bolster her up (at least until that great lady’s execution in 1541). The two of them refused Henry’s request for Mary’s royal jewels and denied Anne Boleyn’s status as queen.

Henry decided to break up Mary’s household in order to bring her into line. Margaret Pole was crushed to have Mary removed from her care and offered to cover all household expenses if Mary was left with her. Henry refused and instead forced Mary to serve in the household of her infant half-sister. This time may have seemed like the nadir of Mary’s life, but the knowledge of her mother’s courage in even worse circumstances gave her the strength to go on.

Katherine of Aragon
1st Queen of Henry VIII

After Henry’s death, Mary's life changed, but the challenges did not cease. With young Edward VI surrounded by reformist advisors, the faith that had seen Mary through tough times put her at odds with the brother she loved. Katherine had given Mary an example in this as well. When faith was all that Katherine had left, abandoned by her husband and her health failing, she had demonstrated to her daughter that it was all she needed. Mary also clung to her faith, having mass held within her household long after it was outlawed by Edwardian statutes. She was prepared to be a martyr for her faith.

Mary probably had not expected to be queen once she had a brother so many years younger than herself. Yet, when Edward died in 1553, Mary proved that she had inherited the strength of a true queen from her mother. Katherine had never doubted that Mary should be Henry’s heir and that he had no need for a son. Henry had clearly disagreed, but Mary’s chance came anyway.

Both Katherine and Mary could be submissive and pious, believing deeply in the specific roles that God had assigned to them. However, they could each be bold and courageous when they believed God’s will was being thwarted. Katherine proved this when she served as regent for Henry in the war against Scotland and in the battle for her marriage, and Mary proved it in her journey to the throne.

Queen Mary I
Daughter of Katherine of Aragon

Few anticipated any serious challenge from the Lady Mary when the council schemed to place her cousin, Lady Jane Grey, on the throne in her place. Sure, Mary had clung stubbornly to the mass against Edward’s wishes, but she had also done her best to stay away from court and live quietly. Edward’s Devise for the Succession had not had the chance to make its way through Parliament, but it was expected that his sisters could be subdued if necessary. If they thought that they would easily neutralize Henry VIII’s daughters, they were heartily disappointed.

Mary had submitted to many humiliations in her life by this time. She was 37, unmarried and childless, since neither her father or brother wished to legitimize her position or give her the power of a husband at her side. But when it was her turn for the crown, she proved, once again, that she was Katherine of Aragon’s daughter.

As it turned out, she had little opposition. Edward’s councilors may have convinced themselves that Jane would be easily accepted, but the people still had fond memories for the Princess Mary and sympathy for her shoddy treatment. Jane’s reign was ended within a fortnight, and Mary was queen, just as her mother always knew she would be.

Additional Reading
Mary Tudor: Princess, Bastard, Queen by Anna Whitelock
The First Queen of England by Linda Porter
The Children of Henry VIII by Alison Weir

All images in the public domain through Wikimedia Commons
~~~~~~~~~~

Samantha Wilcoxson is the author of the Plantagenet Embers Trilogy. Queen of Martyrs, the final installment in the series was recently released featuring Queen Mary I.

An incurable bibliophile and sufferer of wanderlust, Samantha lives in Michigan with her husband and three teenagers. You can connect with her on her blog or on Facebook, Twitter, and Goodreads. 

Torn Between Two Queens

by Wendy J. Dunn

Katherine

There’s a chorus of an old song that I’m sure most people have heard at least once in their life:

Torn between two lovers,
feelin' like a fool,
Lovin' both of you
is breakin' all the rules.

I’m not torn between two lovers, but I have to admit to feeling torn between Tudor queens. Yes – I have my fair share of Anne Boleyn replica jewellery, an Anne Boleyn Iphone case, Anne Boleyn note paper and even devoted years of my life giving voice to Anne Boleyn in my fiction, but that doesn’t take away from the fact that I feel just as devoted to Katherine of Aragon. I even have an unpublished manuscript to prove it – a novel that focused on her childhood in Castilla, which I had hoped to be the first work of a planned trilogy about her life.

Now that my young adult Tudor novel, The Light of the Labyrinth, has stepped out into the published world, I have been thinking about returning to this work. It is actually crying out to me to return to it. That’s not surprising; I spent three years of my life committed to putting Catalina’s story onto the page. Since putting the work aside over four years ago, I have had a lot of time to think about why it didn’t hit the bull’s eye, and what I should do to start again.

So many people think of Katherine of Aragon as a Spanish princess, but she wouldn’t have described herself in that way – not really. It was the marriage of her father and mother, King Ferdinand of Aragon and Queen Isabel of Castilla, two monarchs who ruled over different parts of what is now known as Spain, that resulted in the gradual union of their two countries that became one of the most powerful dominions in Christendom.

As a daughter of King Ferdinand, Katherine was a princess of Aragon. Her mother – the Queen of Castilla, a far more powerful country than Aragon – could have made it very difficult for her husband, but her great ability in diplomacy was apparent even on the home front. She chose to wield her power in such a way that always included her husband. Her immense gifts as a ruling monarch makes me wonder if this was the reason history renamed her Isabella – a name, it is believed, the English brought into being when they wanted to belittle the grandmother of Mary I, as well as in response to the Spanish Armada (Liss 2002).

Born on the sixteenth day of December in 1485, Katherine of Aragon, or Catalina as she was known at her mother’s court, was the fifth and last child of these two monarchs. At three, Katherine was betrothed to Prince Arthur, the first-born son of a new royal English dynasty: the Tudors.

Extremely intelligent, pious and educated by the best tutors her mother could find, Katherine was also trained – like her three older sisters – by her mother to be a devoted and obedient wife who was able to be a good helpmeet for their husband. Katherine was not only able to care well for her husband’s stomach, but also was an excellent embroiderer and maker of manly shirts. She would one day anger Anne Boleyn when she refused to stop making shirts for Henry VIII. As his wife, it was her duty to make them (Fraser 1998).

Anne

There are many stories from the pages of history about Katherine I can visualise as a fiction writer. One story I especially love - when Wolsey visited Katherine during the time of "The King's Great Matter". Busy sewing with her women, Katherine doesn’t invite him into her chamber, but speaks to him at the door, with skeins of threads over her shoulder and I suspect a needle in her hand. Like Anne, Katherine did not like Wolsey, especially in this time when she was being pressured to step aside as Henry’s Queen. Did she feel tempted to accidently brush against Wolsey and prick him with her needle? Make him bleed, because she saw him as one of the reasons her husband now rejected her, making her own heart bleed.

Katherine arrived in England just before her sixteenth birthday, after a long and perilous journey from her mother's kingdom of Castile. The sea journey was even more dangerous, with her ships being driven back once by terrible storms before venturing out to sea again. A chronicle of the period said:

It is reported that this lady Katherine thought and feared such an unhappy chance might come, (the death of her husband, Prince Arthur) for when she had embraced her father and taken leave of her noble and prudent mother, and sailed towards England, she was continually so tossed and tumbled hither and thither with boisterous winds that what with the raging of the water and the contrary winds her ship was prevented many times from approaching the shore and landing (2014 Primary Sources, online).

Katherine met her future husband and his father at the Bishop’s palace at Dangerfield in Hampshire. At this palace – against all Castilian custom, a custom historically influenced by the Moors – Henry VII insisted on lifting the veil of his son’s bride. He saw a pretty girl with grey eyes. Her skin colour appeared to be what is still described of as the English rose, which she inherited from her English ancestors. Katherine’s grandmother was Catherine of Lancaster, the daughter of John of Gaunt (Fraser 1998). Katherine’s greatest beauty was her thick red/gold hair, hair that cascaded past her waist. When she first met Henry VII and Prince Arthur, her hair would have flowed free – as a symbol of her virginity. Sigh. I always feel somewhat cross when I see Katherine of Aragon recreated in movies or television shows as a woman with black-hair. She wasn’t. Thomas More said of her: ‘There is nothing wanting in her that the most beautiful girl should have’ (2014 Historic Royal Palaces, Online source).

Arthur Prince of Wales

The King and Prince Arthur expressed themselves fully pleased with Katherine. Arthur wrote later about his joy at first seeing ‘the sweet face of his bride’ (Fraser 1998, p. 24). But Arthur’s happiness was short-lived. Within only a few months of marriage, the fifteen-year-old prince was dead and Katherine fighting for her own life. They had both been stricken with one of those sudden deadly illnesses of the period – probably the English sweat - that struck fast and hard.

Katherine was pious and honest. After Arthur’s death, Katherine said, over and over, that their marriage had never been consummated. Her father wrote, in 1503, ‘It is well known that the princess is still a virgin’. But he was also a wily politician. In arranging Katherine’s betrothal to Prince Henry, her husband’s younger brother, her father asked the Pope to write up the dispensation in a way that made the question of her virginity unimportant and would safeguard Katherine’s later marriage. Henry VII also protected his own child and son, not forgetting his political back – the marriage would only go forward when Henry the younger was old enough to agree to the match.

Katherine endured seven dreadful years after Arthur’s death. A political pawn – in the hand of a father-in-law who often acted towards her like an utter miser – she was kept short of funds, as well as powerful friends. I agree with Antonia Fraser that these years of deprivation shaped her in such a way that made it impossible for her to bend when Henry VIII later sought to take a new wife (Fraser 1998). In that future time, Katherine probably remembered her time of triumph after seven years of hell while a widow. It is possible that she thought that all she needed to do was to keep faith and God would answer her prayers again.

I also find myself wondering if this time of deprivation impacted upon her health. Katherine spent many hours praying and days fasting during these bleak years. Perhaps this led to some kind of physical damage that caused complications during her pregnancies, making it difficult for her to bear living children. Alison Weir also suggests this in Henry VIII, King and Court, that Katherine’s deep piety and habit of fasting – behaviours reinforced during her widowhood – may have caused reproduction problems (Weir 2001).

Just before Henry VII died, a desperate Katherine contemplated taking the veil. She was saved from this destiny for another destiny when the King died in 1509 and she married – just weeks later – his son, Henry VIII.

During the early years of Katherine's marriage to the young Henry Tudor, the English court had a reputation for learning as well as piety. I have no doubt that Katherine influenced and encouraged her husband's better traits. Greatly respected for her intelligence, Katherine acted as her father’s ambassador during the early years of her marriage to Henry. Henry VIII also had no hesitation in entrusting his Kingdom to his wife whenever he decided to ride off to war with France, his country's traditional enemy.

Katherine did her very best to provide Henry with a royal heir. She believed she had done her duty by giving her husband their daughter, Mary, the only child of their union to survive infancy and live to adulthood. Perhaps if the fates had been kinder – if her husband hadn’t convinced himself that their marriage was accursed, and indeed was no marriage after his hopes for a son had been dashed time after time by the birth of yet another dead or soon to be dead baby – Mary could have been a valid answer to the English succession.

18 Year Old Henry in 1509

Katherine took her responsibilities as Queen very seriously. She gave money to the poor, was a patron of scholars and poets, and enriched religious orders not only with her presence, but also with her wealth. As the events of the Evil May Day, in 1517, proved when she begged for four hundred lives of those who had rioted in London, protesting against foreigners making their livelihoods in London, she was willing to stand up to her husband for those deprived of power. Her actions on during that terrible May were long remembered in a ballad:

What if (she said) by Spanish blood,
have London's stately streets being wet,
Yet will I seek this country’s good
And pardons for their children get;
Or else, the world will speak to me,
And say, “Queen Catherine was unkind,”
And judge me still the cause to be,
These young men did misfortune find.
And so disrobed of rich attire,
With hair unbound she sadly hies,
And of her gracious lord required,
A boon, which hardly he denies…

For which, kind Queen, with joyful heart,
She heard their mothers’ thanks and praise;
And so from them did gently part,
And lived beloved all her days… (Luke 1971, p.195).

Henry VIII may have rejected her as his wife, but England never rejected her as one of their most beloved Queens. To this day, also like Anne Boleyn, flowers are placed on her tomb.

Sometimes, I find myself imagining Katherine and Anne, alone together, in a heavenly, Tudor garden. The sun shines brightly as they sit close together, heads bent, their hands busy at completing exquisite embroideries. They murmur and laugh together, and I hear the often-repeated name of Henry: a man they both loved until their last living breath. I think, in Heaven, free of life’s sorrows and the battles to live and to love, Anne and Katherine would at last discover their common ground and find an eternal friendship.


References:

Fraser, A, 1998, The six wives of Henry VIII, Arrow Books, London
Weir, A, 2001, Henry VIII, King and court, Ballantine Books, New York
Luke, M. L 1971, Catherine, the Queen, Paperback Library, New York

Liss, P. K 2002, “Isabel, Myth and History”, in Isabel la Católica, Queen of Castile: Critical Essays, David A. Boruchoff (Editor), 2002, Palgrave Macmillan, New York.

2014. Primary Sources: The death of Prince Arthur Tudor, 1502. [ONLINE] Available at: http://englishhistory.net/tudor/darthur.html. [Accessed 17 September 2014].

2014 Historic Royal Palaces: Hampton Palace, viewed 17 September 2014,

[this is an Editors' Choice post, first published on 19/09/2014]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wendy J. Dunn is an Australian writer who has been obsessed by Anne Boleyn and Tudor History since she was ten-years-old. She is the author of two Tudor novels: Dear Heart, How Like You This?, the winner of the 2003 Glyph Fiction Award and 2004 runner up in the Eric Hoffer Award for Commercial Fiction, and The Light in the Labyrinth, her first young adult novel.

While she continues to have a very close and spooky relationship with Sir Thomas Wyatt, the elder, serendipity of life now leaves her no longer wondering if she has been channeling Anne Boleyn and Sir Tom for years in her writing, but considering the possibility of ancestral memory. Her own family tree reveals the intriguing fact that her ancestors – possibly over three generations – had purchased land from both the Boleyn and Wyatt families to build up their own holdings. It seems very likely Wendy’s ancestors knew the Wyatts and Boleyns personally.

Born in Melbourne, Australia, Wendy is married and the mother of three sons and one daughter—named after a certain Tudor queen, surprisingly, not Anne.

Wendy tutors at Swinburne University in their Master of Arts (Writing) program. She also works at a primary school as a literature support teacher.
For more information about Wendy J. Dunn, visit her website at www.wendyjdunn.com. 

The First Tudor Prince

Arthur Tudor
Prince of Wales

by Samantha Wilcoxson

With the birth of the first Tudor prince a sparse eight months after the marriage of Henry VII and Elizabeth of York, few would have prophesied the problem of begetting heirs that would plague the short-lived Tudor dynasty. His name spoke of the high expectations that his parents, and indeed the kingdom, had for Prince Arthur. After decades of war and familial infighting, Prince Arthur would solidify the peace that had begun with the marriage of his Lancastrian father and Yorkist mother.

Born on September 20, 1486, Prince Arthur was the embodiment of God’s blessing upon the first Tudor king and queen. In contradiction to some accounts, particularly in historical fiction but not absent from works of nonfiction, Arthur Tudor was not treated as a sickly child unexpected to survive until adulthood. It is easy to assign these descriptions to him in retrospect based upon his early demise, but contemporary accounts and events in his life demonstrate that Arthur was fully expected not only to survive, but to rule. As an infant, he was described as ‘vital and vigorous.’

In 1489, shortly following his third birthday, Arthur was made a Knight of the Bath in preparation for his investiture as Prince of Wales the following February. In 1491, he was made Knight of the Garter. This same year, Arthur welcomed a younger brother, Henry, whose birth was celebrated but not with the exuberance that Arthur’s had been. There is no indication that Henry was expected to take his brother’s place as heir. While Arthur was raised up away from court and included in the governing of Wales from a young age, Henry was kept near his mother with his other siblings.

Ludlow Castle, Shropshire

Established at Ludlow in 1492, Arthur would have hardly known the brother whose name would forever come before his own. Arthur was expected to be king, and great effort was expended toward obtaining for him a royal wife. Henry would have likely looked forward to a leading role in the church to support his brother, perhaps as an Archbishop.

The negotiations for Arthur’s marriage had begun when he was a toddler. More than anything else in his life, he would be remembered for being the first husband of his brother’s wife. Katherine of Aragon insisted until her dying day that this marriage had never been consummated because of the briefness of their time together and Arthur’s failing health. During the decade of haggling over details of the match, Arthur’s health is one of few things not counted as a concern by Queen Isabella and King Ferdinand, further evidence that Arthur’s early death was unexpected. In fact, the Spanish ambassador, who would have no incentive to mislead his king and queen, described the young Arthur as ‘taller than his age would warrant’ and ‘of remarkable beauty and grace.’

The power couple of Spain were not afraid to make demands. Due to their concerns that Arthur’s rule be unchallenged, two executions took place. Perkin Warbeck, who had claimed to be the younger of the Princes in the Tower and therefore the Queen’s brother, was put to death after an attempted escape from the Tower. If these charges were questionable, Warbeck had undoubtedly performed other acts of treason. The scandal was the partner that was executed shortly after him.

Edward Plantagenet, Earl of Warwick
by Edward Harding
National Portrait Gallery, London

Edward of Warwick was one of those pesky Plantagenet sons who made it easy for those who were unimpressed with Tudor rule to think of a possible substitute. Not that Edward himself had ever challenged Henry the way others, such as the de la Pole brothers, did. Son of George of Clarence and brother of Margaret Pole, Edward had been imprisoned since early in Henry VII’s reign. He was not necessarily mistreated, but neither was he allowed to truly live a life where he could become the center of rebellion for disillusioned Yorkists. His sister, Margaret, was married to a Tudor supporter, and she served in a variety of roles, serving Arthur at Ludlow and later Princess Mary. However, Edward, kept under lock and key since childhood, was seen as too much of a risk. Including him in the dubious charges against Warbeck, Edward was executed in 1499 to clear the way for Arthur and Katherine’s marriage. Certainly, this is not an action that one would undertake for a Prince not expected to survive to rule.

Coat of Arms
Arthur Tudor Prince of Wales

Arthur had been educated and raised to be king in a way that was not mirrored in the treatment of his brothers. While Arthur was made Duke of Cornwall at birth, Earl of Chester in 1489, and Prince of Wales in 1490, his brothers received titles reserved for younger sons. Henry was made Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports in 1492, Lord Lieutenant of Ireland in 1493, and Duke of York in 1494.

Arthur was sent to govern Wales with Jasper Tudor, his father’s most loyal supporter, as the head of his council. We have every reason to believe that, with the help of his experienced council, Arthur excelled in the governance of Wales during his time there. Contemporaries praised his intelligence and demeanor.

The fact that Katherine of Aragon insisted that she and Arthur never consummated their marriage is not necessarily evidence that he was already suffering from a long-lasting illness. While couples their age were not kept from the marriage bed, they knew the dangers that young couples faced, especially mothers, but Katherine’s brother had recently died at age nineteen, a disaster that was blamed on his libido. Travel and pageantry that took place during the couple’s short marriage also kept them from sharing a bed more than a handful of times. Therefore, it is possible that, even if Arthur felt well at the wedding ceremony, business and later sickness could have kept him from his wife’s bed.

Katherine of Aragon
National Portrait Gallery

Katherine also became bed-ridden with sweating sickness at this time. It is possible that Arthur died from one of many possibilities that have been suggested: tuberculosis, pneumonia, testicular cancer, or other wasting disease. However, it seems likely that he succumbed to an illness that attacked many people of this time, rich and poor, and that could have just as easily claimed his young wife.

One of the most touching scenes documented of a man reputed to be cold and calculating is Henry VII’s anguish over the death of his firstborn son. He and his wife were shattered, as any parents would be, and there is no evidence that Arthur was raised under the shadow of eminent death based upon their shock and grief. His parents decided to attempt to have another child after Arthur’s death, a step they had not taken two years earlier after the death of his younger brother, Edmund. Arthur’s death was unexpected and the royal couple’s reaction could indicate that the Tudor fear for a lack of sons was beginning to take root.

The first Tudor prince had been welcomed to the world with great acclaim and was mourned in devastation. Let us not dismiss him as a sickly child who was quickly replaced by the charismatic brother but remember him as a life full of promise, extinguished too soon.

Photo Credits:

Portrait of Arthur Tudor by Anonymous Artist: Public Domain

Ludlow Castle: Ian Capper [CC BY-SA 2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

Arthur Tudor's Coat of Arms: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File%3ACoat_of_Arms_of_the_Tudor_Princes_of_Wales_(1489-1574).svg

Edward of Warwick: National Portrait Gallery, London

Katherine of Aragon: National Portrait Gallery, London

Additional Reading:

Elizabeth of York: A Tudor Queen and Her World by Alison Weir

Winter King: Henry VII and the Dawn of Tudor England by Thomas Penn

About the Author:

Samantha Wilcoxson is a first generation American with British roots. She is passionate about reading, writing, and history, especially the Plantagenet dynasty. Her novel, Plantagenet Princess, Tudor Queen: The Story of Elizabeth of York has been recognized as a Historical Novel Society Editor's Choice. The Plantagenet Embers series continues with Faithful Traitor: The Story of Margaret Pole and will conclude with Queen of Martyrs: The Story of Mary I in 2017.

Samantha has also published two middle grade novels, No Such Thing as Perfect and Over the Deep: A Titanic Adventure.

When not reading or writing, Samantha enjoys traveling and spending time at the lake with her husband and three children. You can connect with Samantha on her blog, Twitter, Goodreads, Booklikes, and Amazon.

Book Links:

Faithful Traitor: The Story of Margaret Pole

Plantagenet Princess, Tudor Queen: The Story of Elizabeth of York

No Such Thing as Perfect 

Over the Deep: A Titanic Adventure

A Life of Catalina, Katherine of Aragon’s Moorish Servant

by Lauren Johnson

In 1501 a girl set out for England. She had come from the fertile coastal strip surrounding Motril, on the southernmost point of the Iberian peninsula. She traveled with a small household, leaving the heat and Moorish architecture of Granada to cross dusty plains and steep mountain passes until she reached the port of Coruna in Galicia. Taking ship – probably for the first time – she endured fierce storms in the Bay of Biscay, thunder and lightning off the coast of Brittany and was blown far off course in the English Channel. By the time she arrived, the journey had taken four months.

The girl’s name was Catalina.

This is not another story of Katherine of Aragon, referred to in Spanish documents as Catalina. Nor is it a tale of one of her many noble ladies who shared her name. It is the forgotten story of the life of Catalina of Motril, an enslaved Granadan who journeyed with her mistress to make the princess’s bed and attend to other intimate services of her private chambers. And Catalina was to play her part in the most seismic events in English history.

Malaga, George Braun (wikimedia commons)

Catalina probably first entered her mistress’s household as a result of the Reconquista of Granada by the king and queen of Aragon and Castile in the last decades of the Fifteenth Century. These ‘Catholic Monarchs’, Ferdinand and Isabella, were Katherine’s parents and with crusading zeal they had swept through the Andalusian territories of their Moorish neighbours, murdering and enslaving as they went. The city of Malaga (95 kilometres from Catalina’s hometown of Motril) resisted their attack so the monarchs ruled that every single person within its walls should be enslaved when it inevitably fell. The centuries-old customs and culture of Granada were conquered – and, over the following decades, destroyed.

Of course, Catalina’s entry into royal service may not have been a result of the war with Granada. Some Moors found themselves enslaved as punishment for crimes: pleading for alms without a permit, illegally leaving the country, gathering together in groups of more than four, or as a result of capital offences when punishment was commuted to slavery. Other Moors were seized by Christian pirates as ‘the goods of war’, like the Motrilian labourer Faraig Benali; dragged from a coastal path into a life of slavery. But it seems most likely that Catalina was installed in the royal household as a consequence – and symbol – of royal control over Granada.

Ferdinand and Isabella had a number of slaves in their service, including those reaped from their recently claimed territories in the Canary Islands and the New World. They enjoyed converting their slaves to Catholicism, and to serve so intimately upon the infanta Katherine, Catalina must also have been baptized a Christian. Perhaps in the process her name was changed. Slaves commonly took the name of their master or mistress, and alongside the infanta there were several other high-born Catalinas in Katherine of Aragon’s household. Catalina may have been named for, and originally in the service of, any one of them. Indeed, Catalina was one of the most common names for a slave in the Valencia region of Spain.

Catherine of Aragon, Michael Sittow c.1502
(wikimedia commons)

However she entered her mistress’s service, Catalina was regarded highly enough to be chosen as part of Katherine’s household when she left behind her homeland to begin a new life in England in 1501. Katherine was to marry the heir to the Tudor throne, Arthur, Prince of Wales. When she entered London in November, Katherine ensured her Spanish heritage and her parents’ conquest were foremost in people’s minds. Alongside English ladies wearing their own fashions, Katherine and her servants wore their native costumes, which were considered ‘busteous and marvellous’ by the English. Catalina was probably dressed in the native clothing of Granada. Thomas More was among those who witnessed the incredible procession, and he described with some bemusement the ‘undersized, barefoot, pygmy Ethiopians’ who accompanied Katherine. In all likelihood he was looking at young adolescent moors like Catalina, wearing sandals such as those commonly sported in Granada. His words suggest that Catalina endured curious stares and insensitive comments from onlookers that day, although she was far from the first black person to live in the British Isles

On Katherine and Arthur’s wedding night Catalina was in attendance. It was her duty to ensure the royal marriage bed was properly prepared, the expensive linens and silks scented and warmed for the young couple’s arrival. The next morning, she would have been the one to carry the bedding away again. Catalina fulfilled this role throughout Katherine’s marriage, accompanying her to Ludlow to begin her life as Princess of Wales. But barely four months later, tragedy struck. Arthur fell seriously ill at Easter 1502, and a week later he was dead.

Katherine and her household were recalled to London. There, it emerged that not all of her marriage portion had been paid by her family, meaning her in-laws felt under no obligation to provide access to her dower. Stripped of her claim to her late husband’s vast estate she was forced to live with unwelcome frugality. At first it seemed that Katherine would marry Arthur’s younger brother Henry but the certainty of it waxed and waned with the vagaries of international diplomacy. For seven years Katherine’s future hung in limbo – and with it, the lives of her attendants. They no longer enjoyed palatial comforts. Katherine had to pawn her jewels and plates just to keep them in her employ, and even then they walked around ‘in rags’. She wrote to her father Ferdinand in despair, pleading to be allowed to enter a convent. If she had had her wish, Catalina’s future would have been very different.

The Coronation of Henry VIII & Catherine of Aragon
(wikimedia commons)

But in April 1509 Katherine’s prospects changed considerably for the better. Her father-in-law Henry VII died. His seventeen-year-old son succeeded to the throne as Henry VIII, and one of his first acts was to reinstate his betrothal to Katherine. They married in May and on Midsummer’s Day (24 June) were crowned together at Westminster. Was Catalina part of the great celebrations that greeted this joint coronation? She was certainly there on Katherine and Henry’s wedding night, fulfilling the same role she had carried out for her mistress’s first wedding. Did anyone ask Catalina if Katherine came to the marriage a virgin? At the time people did not seem much to care.

For over twenty years, Katherine was queen of England. And during those initially happy and then increasingly wretched years Catalina disappears from the records. She was there for the joy and hope of both of Katherine’s weddings, and she appears again when her mistress’s second marriage had crumbled into misery and recrimination. By 1530, Henry VIII had convinced himself that his marriage was cursed, that he had displeased God by marrying his brother’s widow and that his now-menopausal wife was really nothing more than a sister-in-law. He insisted that she be set aside. Katherine, meanwhile, insisted that her first marriage had been no true union – that she had come to Henry’s bed a virgin. Since Arthur could not answer to the truth of the matter, other witnesses were called. Among them was Catalina.

By then the woman who was ‘once the Queen's slave’ had left royal service. She had evidently been gone some time. Her life can only be reconstructed from the notes of Spanish examiners eager to find her and glean her testimony on the marriage, for ‘she (was) said to be well informed’.

Catalina had led an itinerant life since departing England. Quite when she had braved a return journey across the storm-lashed seas is unclear, but she broke her journey in Valdezcaray in northern Spain, and there married a Moorish crossbow-maker called Oviedo.

Morisco family, Christoph Weiditz's Trachtenbuch
(wikimedia commons)

Together, Catalina and Oviedo returned to Granada, to live in Malaga. Perhaps they had family there or perhaps they hoped that as Moors they would have more opportunities in this once great Granadan city. Catalina gave birth to two daughters before Oviedo passed away in Malaga, and then she moved once more, taking her daughters back to her hometown of Motril. Her life had come full circle.

Had Catalina been given her freedom by Katherine, to enable her to move around Spain in this manner? Sometimes freedom was granted when a slave married, sometimes on payment of a sum of money. It is possible that simply by living in England Catalina had to all intents and purposes been freed – at the time the only recognized form of slavery in England was native ‘villeinage’, the enslaved status of serfs. The freedom of the Portuguese slave Pero Alvarez was upheld, even when he returned to Portugal from England.

Morisca mother and daughter, Christoph Weiditz's Trachtenbuch
(wikimedia commons)

And there, like so many historical lives, Catalina’s story is left hanging, the archives falling frustratingly silent. We do not know if Katherine’s agents ever found her. We do not how long Catalina lived, or if she knew of her mistress’s eventual divorce and death. We do not know what became of her daughters. It is worth being reminded that we may not even know her real name.

The unknowns of Catalina’s life vastly outweigh the knowns, and even this reconstruction is just one version of the slim facts of this forgotten woman’s story. But we can gather enough from the gleaming shards in the archives and the rich context of the history through which she lived to create a Catalina whose story can be told and remembered.

I created this speculative life of Catalina as research for a play that will tell another version of her tale: Catalina by Untold (written by Hassan Abdulrazzak) will be performed at Colchester Arts Centre at 2.30 and 8pm on 31^st March, and at Ovalhouse Theatre London from 1st to 4th April at 7:45pm daily.

There are post-show discussions of Catalina’s life on 31^st March (after the 8pm show in Colchester) and 2^nd April Ovalhouse London.

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Lauren Johnson is the author of The Arrow of Sherwood (Pen & Sword Fiction) an origin story of Robin Hood, rooting the myth in the brutal, complex reality of the twelfth century. She is currently working on a history of the year 1509 (when Henry VIII came to the throne), to be published by Head of Zeus in 2016.




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Hey Henry! That’s no way to say ‘goodbye.’

by Judith Arnopp

Henry VIII

Although Henry VIII is famous for abandoning, beheading, divorcing his wives it seems he didn’t enjoy ‘goodbyes.’ Each one of his relationships ended suddenly, without discussion.  In most instances he simply crept out of the palace, mounted his horse and rode away. End of relationship. End of marriage.

His battle for a divorce from Katherine of Aragon, his wife of almost twenty years, was a long protracted affair, ending with Henry breaking his ties with the Pope and the excommunication of England from the Roman Church. By the time he finally lost patience and removed himself from the marriage, he was already committed to Anne Boleyn.

For months the king and his two ‘wives’ had lived in a sort of Ménage à trois with Katherine trailing in the wake of Henry and Anne. But in June 1531 Henry and Anne rode away from Hampton court, leaving the queen behind.

For a few weeks it seems the couple visited several hunting lodges with Anne playing the part of consort. It had long been Catherine’s habit to write to Henry every few days when they were apart, enquiring after his health but this time her letter also expressed her regret that he had not bid her farewell when he departed.

Catherine of Aragon

Henry’s response was pitiless, informing her he ‘cared not for her adieux.’ Catherine’s reply illustrates admirable restraint but Henry did not bother to answer; instead she received a letter from the Council which, for the first time failed to address her as ‘Queen.

A further order demanded that she remove herself to The More in Hertfordshire, and ordered the Princess Mary to go to Richmond. Henry was not only abandoning Catherine but also their daughter, who was never allowed to see her mother again.

Henry’s marriage to Anne was very different to his first. Whereas Catherine had the royal training to ignore her husband’s romantic indiscretions, Anne had no such qualms. This made marriage to Anne a roller coaster ride of arguments, fights and reconciliations. There are plenty of marriages like this, it is no indication that they were no longer in love.

Anne Boleyn

Since their life together was peppered with disputes, when Anne fell out of favour in May 1536 she had no reason to suspect that it was any more than another tiff. But, after signing the order for her arrest, Henry refused to see or communicate with Anne again.

It is tempting to wonder if things had been otherwise she might have managed to talk her way out of it, as Henry’s sixth wife, Katherine Parr, did in the final years of his reign.

Jane Seymour has always been described as the ‘one he loved best’ yet when she died after giving him a son, the only indication of his grief is that he did not remarry straight away. While Jane was on her deathbed he had the goodness to delay his planned departure to Esher by several days. Cromwell was told that, ‘If she amend (recover), he will go, and if she amend not, he told me this day, he could not find it in his heart to tarry.” (Starkey. P. 608)

Jane Seymour

In other words, his wife’s death did not interfere with the king’s itinerary. Jane died at 8pm on the same day this message was written. We do not know if Henry was with her.

I have always questioned Henry’s love for Jane. We tend to think that because he was still in love with her (or at least had not yet found a replacement) he must have felt more for her than the others. But, suppose she had survived, who is to say he would not have tired of her too and found an excuse to creep from her bed into the arms of another?

I think we are safe to assume Henry had no love for his fourth wife, Anne of Cleves. From the moment he saw her, before the marriage had even taken place, Henry wanted an end to it. He raged to his councillors that she did not please him but, unable to free himself from the political ties of the union, he was trapped, like a caged lion. The wedding went ahead and the honeymoon night was a disaster.

All over London jousts and celebrations were under way but the king was far from happy. He had set his heart on another and was already sneaking out after dark to visit Catherine Howard at the home of Stephen Gardiner, Bishop of Winchester in Southwark.

Anne of Cleves

David Starkey in Six Wives: The Queens of Henry VIII says, ‘Anne herself probably understood little of the political storm which raged round her and of which she was the all-too passive cause. She was shrewd enough, however, to notice the King’s attentions to Catherine Howard, and, on 20th June, complained vigorously about them to the Cleves agent in London, Karl Harst. Two days later, she was in better spirits, because Henry had spoken to her kindly. It was the last time she saw him as her husband.”

Ordered to leave the court and take up residence at Richmond Palace, Anne did not learn of her fate until July when she was informed of the king’s decision to reconsider the marriage. Although she was often at court after the annulment, Anne never saw Henry again until the separation was legally finalised.

Catherine Howard, as we all know, was accused of adultery and treason. As sad as it is, the charges were probably just. The legend of the little queen running screaming for Henry along the corridors of Hampton court sound as if they are straight from the pages of fiction, and they probably are. But the image is a powerful one, indicative of her terror, her knowledge of what is about to come to pass. For Catherine, coming at the end of a long line of dispatched spouses, can have held little doubt as to her fate. But, if the story is true, it was a futile attempt to reason with the king for, before she was even aware that anything was wrong, Henry had already fled.

Katherine Howard

Hurt and humiliated, the king lost no time in making himself scarce. On the 5^th of November, on the pretext of hunting, he ‘dined in a little pleasure-house in one of the parks around Hampton Court. Then, under the cover of night, he left secretly for London.’ (Starkey, p. 671)

Catherine never saw him again.

Afterwards the Spanish ambassador described Henry as suffering ‘greater sorrow and regret at her loss than at the faults, loss of divorce of his preceding wives.’ (Starkey. P. 685) The picture of an aging broken king mourning the loss of his faithless child bride is touching but, it has to be said, his sorrow was more likely to have been of the self-pitying kind than remorse for Catherine.

Katherine Parr

Katherine Parr, Henry’s last queen, was a scholar and a reformer, publishing books and entering the male world of theological debate, just as Anne Boleyn had before her. This won the queen enemies, the conservative faction resenting her influence over the aging and increasingly disabled king.

Just as with several of her predecessors, moves were made to bring her down and the task promised not to be difficult. It is possible that Katherine was just too clever for the king’s liking, perhaps she bested him with her arguments, perhaps she reminded him just a little too much of Anne Boleyn. Whatever the reason, after several years of marriage, Henry came to resent her unfeminine attitude, providing her enemies with the opportunity they needed.

When Henry complained, in Gardiner’s presence, of the nature of the queen’s conversation Gardiner lost no time in convincing the king to agree to a coup against her. Her women and her books were to be seized and the queen arrested and sent to the Tower.

Luckily for Katherine, one of Henry’s physicians got wind of the plan and tipped her off. Katherine went straight to the king but had the sense not to remonstrate with him outright. Instead, when the subject turned to religion, she pretended ignorance, preferring to ‘defer my judgement in this, and all other cases, to our Majesty’s wisdom, as my only anchor Supreme Head and Governor her in earth, next under God.’ (Starkey. P.763)

When he looked doubtful as to her honesty, she went on to claim that she had only ever disputed with Henry to take his mind from his pain, and to try to learn from his own great wisdom. His ego salved and his faith in women restored, Henry and Katherine kissed and made up.

It must have been a triumphant moment for Katherine when Wriothesley arrived the next day to arrest her.  The king and queen were walking in the garden and when Wriothesley arrived with the guard, Henry furiously berated him, calling him a knave and a beast. Wriothesley fled the royal presence.

On this occasion Henry’s wife managed to escape the ultimate penalty for displeasing the king but, as Henry’s health began to deteriorate further, the couple spent more and more time apart.

Henry spent his last Christmas in London, while Katherine was at Greenwich. He died in January 1547, probably without saying ‘Goodbye.’

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Judith Arnopp is the author of historical fiction. Her books include:

   The Kiss of the Concubine

TheWinchester Goose: at the court of Henry VIII

The Song of Heledd

The Forest Dwellers

Peaceweaver

For more information about Judith’s books please visit her webpage.

 All available on kindle or in paperback

Further reading.

David Starkey, Six Wives: the queens of Henry VIII

Alison Weir, Henry VIII King and Court

Joanna Denny, Katherine Howard,

Eric Ives, The Life and Death of Anne Boleyn

David Loades, Henry VIII and his Queens