would marry, and the princess would become Empress Mary, co-ruler of half the known world.
Over the next four years this awesome prospect dominated Mary’s life. She was to be transformed, as rapidly as possible, into a young Spanish lady. To begin with, she was to be dressed “according to the fashion and manner of those parts.” Cloth was sent to the imperial court to be cut into gowns under the supervision of Margaret, regent of Flanders. Margaret was “to devise for the making thereof after such manner as best shall please her,” then return the garments to England. 14 Mary spoke her mother’s Spanish; now she was to be trained in Spanish customs and politeness as well. It was strongly urged that Mary be sent to Spain, at least for a time, but Henry would not part with her. Katherine could teach her all that she needed to know, he insisted, and after the marriage Charles could educate her as he wished.
The letters Charles sent to the English court during these years rarelymentioned Mary; from the emperor’s point of view the betrothal was only a minor detail of a diplomatic alliance. He did ask for news of “my best sweetheart the princess, the future empress” in a letter to Wolsey in 1523, but doubtless she remained very much in the background of his thoughts. 15 As for Mary, she seems to have had a strong romantic feeling for Charles—or at any rate for the idea of a husband—and it seems clear that the women around her encouraged her to imitate the behavior and to express the emotions of a lover. When she was nine Mary sent Charles an emerald ring, together with the solemn message “that her grace hath devised this token for a better knowledge to be had (when God shall send them grace to be together) whether his majesty doth keep constant and continent to her, as with God’s grace she will to him.” The ambassadors who were to deliver the emerald were instructed to add that Mary’s love for Charles was so passionate that it was showing itself in jealousy, “one of the greatest signs and tokens of love.” Sending the emerald may or may not have been Mary’s own idea, but it was certainly the kind of thing that Katherine and her ladies encouraged. It was a gesture of playful courtesy, the act of a medieval princess testing the fidelity of her knight. Regardless of its origin, there is every reason to believe that Mary, who in later life took matters of the heart very seriously indeed, meant the gesture sincerely and cared very much about her future husband’s fidelity.
Charles, who was anything but continent and was by this time considering marrying someone else, made the chivalrous reply the situation called for. He inquired politely about Mary’s health, education and looks, and then, smiling, stuck the emerald ring on his little finger and ordered the ambassadors to say that “he would wear it for the sake of the princess.”
PART TWO
The King’s Troubled Daughter
VIII
And wylt thow leve me thus?
That bathe louyd the so long,
In welthe and woo among?
And ys thy hart so strong
As for to leve me thus?
Say nay, say nay!
News of the sack of Rome reached the court of Henry VIII on June I. Letters sent to the king and Wolsey told in bloody detail how the soldiers of Charles V had defiled the venerable city and threatened the pope, who was still a captive of the imperial forces. Wolsey, who saw in Clement VII’s misfortune an opportunity to take over leadership of the church himself, made plans to convene the cardinals at Avignon in France and to preside over a papal court in exile. Henry cursed his nephew Charles as an enemy of the faith, and lamented that “our most holy lord, the true and only vicar of Christ on earth,” had been taken from his flock. Without him the church would surely collapse, the king insisted, and he sped Wolsey on his way.
Henry’s concern about the condition of the papacy was sincere, but his motives were selfish and, for the time being, secret. Unknown to