Chapter IX
April, 1517
The physicians seemed to have the power to see the future. They had somehow knew that Catherine would have her last child in 1517.
Catherine's pains started at midnight.
It was more painful than her last pregnancy.
Henry VIII paced back and forth impatiently for the news of a healthy baby and Catherine's health. He wanted news at once.
Catherine laboured all night and day.
The Court grew worried.
Henry VIII hoped all was going well.
A couple of hours later, the cries of a baby was heard throughout the Tower.
The Tower was a dark place to have children.
Henry VIII promised himself that next time the baby's about to be due, he'll move the Court to a much more pleasant place like Hampton Court or Richmond Palace. Even Rhuddlan Castle (near Wales) was a much comfortable place than the Tower. He wondered what'll happen if Catherine dies in childbirth and the child survives.
What will he tell his children?
Would he remarry?
The physicians and midwives gathered around Catherine, who was exhausted and tired after many hours of agonising labour.
"You have a girl," a midwife informed Catherine.
"Will I live?" murmured Catherine.
"Yes. You've lost a lot of blood, but you'll survive. I have unfortunate news for you though. A couple of tissues have been damaged at the birth of your child. The physicians have decreed that you'll die if you try and have more children."
"What?"
"This child will be your last."
"But I'm still young enough for child bearing!"
"Your health needs to be considered, Your Majesty."
Catherine glanced at the baby in the midwife's arms. Now she understood the feeling her mother experienced when she discovered that Catherine's her last child. Catherine had hoped to have many children, but nine!
"Joanna," she said listlessly. "After my sister, the Queen of Castile."
From that moment, the little Princess was known as Joanna of the Tower.
Henry VIII bursted into her chamber.
He noticed straight away that Catherine was more pale and wane than she usually looked after childbirth. She was thinner. Much thinner. Her lustrous, auburn hair hung unattractively at the sides of her face, when they normally would be curled at the tips. Her Sapphire, blue eyes were unusually dull, and she looked depressed and sad.
"Is our child dead?" said Henry VIII promptly.
Catherine shook her head.
Henry VIII silently sighed with relief.
A stillborn or weak infant could be taken as a bad omen.
"She's named Joanna," said Catherine quietly.
"Of course," said Henry VIII, worried. "After your sister, the Queen of Castile. Are you alright? What happened? You don't seem yourself."
"We can't have anymore children."
"What?! Why?!"
"Ask those physicians and midwives. They seem certain that I can't have anymore children. It's not my fertility, Henry. Apparently my health counts too."
Henry VIII seemed a little stunned and relieved. He kissed Catherine gently on the cheek and went to
see the physicians and midwives at the back of the room. He took baby Joanna from a midwife and rocked her quietly, thinking of the future.
Joanna's their last child.
Henry VIII hadn't expected this so soon.
He had always thought that he and Catherine would have at least twelve children (rivalling Edward III and Philippa of Hainault).
He was also uncertain how to tell Catherine…
While Catherine was pregnant with Joanna, he had drunk a little too much with Charles, and slept with a Neville girl (unintentionally). He discovered a few days before Catherine gave birth to Joanna, that the girl had give birth to a son.
And he didn't know which Neville girl he slept with.
Thankfully, an unhappy (and a little embarrassed) Ralph Neville, the 4th Earl of Westmorland came forward with his sister, Isabel le Despenser (nee' Neville), 3rd Countess of Winchester, and admitted that she was the one who gave birth to his bastard son, and to prove it, he brought forth his younger brother, who witnessed the whole affair. Henry VIII was relieved and apologised to the Earl and his sister for his troubles in the affair.
Isabel le Despenser presented his illegitimate son to him.
To Henry VIII's horror, his bastard son had inherited his unmistakable red hair.
Why does all his bastards have red hair?!
"I named him Edward," said Lady le Despenser uncertainly. "I hope you don't mind. I thought he was my husband's son, but then the red hair…"
The red hair's such a giveaway.
"Edward's a fine name," Henry VIII assured her.
"What can she do?" said the Earl impatiently. "Her husband calls her a whore and refuses to allow her back in his manors. He's threatening to bastardise his children with my sister. The le Despensers are notoriously unfaithful, and they accuse my sister of infidelity! Your Majesty, what can you do to help us in this current dilemma?"
Henry VIII frowned slightly.
He started this mess, he'll fix this mess.
"I'll offer the Earl of Winchester the title Marquess of Dorset," he said thoughtfully. "On the condition that he reconciles with his wife, and announce a public apology to the Nevilles. He'll have a good position in my household."
The Earl nodded in agreement.
"I'll acknowledge our son," Henry VIII told Lady le Despenser.
"You will?" said Isabel le Despenser, surprised.
"Yes. He is my son."
"What if my husband rejects him in the nursery?"
"Oh, don't worry about that, Lady le Despenser. Our boy won't be raised in your nursery. He'll have a royal education with his half-siblings. I'm sure he'll be happy there. When he's older, he'll have his own household and I'll give him the title Earl of Pembroke. I'll make sure that after my death, he'll be treated with the same respect as he'll receive as if I'm alive. I'll arrange a good marriage for him too. You don't have to worry about him any longer, Lady le Despenser. From this day forth, young Edward will be known as the King's acknowledged son. If your husband's still cold and neglectful to you, let me know and he'll be in trouble! You have the King's protection now, My Lady."
"What will the Queen think?"
Henry VIII was uneasy.
Catherine didn't know about it.
"She'll accept him," said Henry VIII uncertainly.
Isabel le Despenser and the Earl of Westmorland sighed in relief.
They left, and Henry VIII bounced Edward on his knee, thinking of how to break the news to Catherine as gently as he could. He remembered Catherine's reaction the first time he told her that his mistress was pregnant with his child. That didn't go well. At least Lady Hastings gave birth to a girl. Catherine had accepted Matilda without fuss, and the same went with his other illegitimate daughter, Victoire. He suspected that Catherine was more fond of Victoire (because her mother died in childbirth) than Matilda, but what would she think of Edward?
Henry VIII glanced at Catherine.
She had fallen asleep.
"I must go," he said abruptly. "Let me know when Catherine wakes up. Take the Princess to the nursery with her siblings."
He went to see Charles and Mary.
"How is she?" said Mary at once.
She liked Catherine, and would be upset if she died.
"Catherine lives," Henry VIII replied.
Mary sighed with relief.
"I have a problem," muttered Henry VIII. "Catherine's exhausted from childbirth, but I have to tell her something. It's important. A few days ago, I found out that I had an illegitimate son from the Lady le Despenser. How can I tell Catherine that? The physicians said that she can't have anymore children, and my mistress gave birth to a son!"
"Henry!" said Mary, glaring at him. "How could you?!"
"Just tell her?" suggested Charles.
Henry VIII bit his lip.
He loved Catherine, but couldn't help himself.
It was 1518, and for once, Catherine wasn't pregnant. It felt strange to her, but she knew that she had to sacrifice having children for the good of England.
She couldn't allow Wolsey or Norfolk to rule England through the King.
Painfully, she accepted Edward in her nursery.
Henry VIII didn't give Edward the title Earl of Pembroke that he promised Isabel le Despenser. He decided that it'll hurt Catherine too much, and only acknowledged his illegitimate son as Lord Edward Tudor to the English people.
They were happy.
Catherine was depressed.
She knew that in a matter of years, her daughters will be married and will leave her.
Princess Mary was eight, and Henry VIII adored her.
She knew that she was destined to be Queen of Spain, and was determined to learn all she can about her future husband and kingdom. She knew she'll leave England, but was certain that she'll love Spain, and will be able to visit England during her married life. After all, her mother's sister is the Queen of Spain, so she wouldn't be seeing complete strangers. Princess Mary remembered Charles of Spain from his visit to England, and was happy to be his bride.
She mastered Spanish, Latin, French, Italian and German in a matter of years.
Both the King and Queen were proud of her.
Prince Harry was also a bright and intelligent boy.
He was more quiet and subdued than his five year old twin brothers, and preferred reading and learning to be King than outdoor sports.
He had inherited more Catherine than Henry VIII.
Young Isabella was told she'll be Queen of Scots one day.
She wasn't as happy as Mary was.
"You'll be closer to England!" said Henry VIII persuasively.
"I want to stay in England," said Isabella stubbornly.
"You'll love Scotland! Your Aunt Margaret's Queen there, and will look after you! You'll soon realise that Scotland's your home and you won't even miss England! Mary's looking forward to going to Spain! I'm sure you'll be happy in Scotland!"
"Mama's born in Spain. Mary's going to be Queen of Mama's country. I'm going to be Queen of a
country that I don't know anything about."
"Do you remember the Duke of Rothesay?"
"He's my future husband."
"Yes. He's looking forward to marry you. He said that you're the only one he'll marry. He still likes you from the last time he saw you. You'll be happy in Scotland. You can visit us at anytime you want! Maybe one of your sisters can go with you!"
"Can Margaret come?"
"I'm sorry darling. She'll be going to Portugal."
"Can Harry come?"
"Harry will marry in England. His bride will go to him."
"Why can't he come?"
"He'll marry Catharina of Austria. Maybe Matilda or Victoire can go with you. You won't be going to Scotland for many years."
Isabella was satisfied.
She liked her half-sister Matilda.
Matilda understood her more than her other siblings do. Harry was her favourite brother, and she relatively disliked her elder sister, Mary. Princess Mary stole the spotlight from her whenever their parents visited, and had the honour of marrying into the high-born, powerful Habsburg family, and will rule her mother's homeland, while she's forced to marry into the barbaric House of Stuart and suffer in the cold, dreary Scottish weathers.
Isabella learnt that her future mother-in-law was fierce and merciless.
She was afraid.
Lucky Mary, she thought. She'll be loved in Spain.
Richard and Arthur were Henry VIII's favourite sons.
They would spend hours playing with their wooden swords, or pretend to be jousting on their wooden rocking horses and play with their blunt-ended wooden lances. Henry VIII loved seeing them playing. It reminded him of his own childhood.
For twins, their hair colours were different.
Richard had inherited dark brown hair from his maternal grandfather's (Ferdinand II of Aragon) ancestors, and Arthur inherited fair, flaxen hair from his paternal side (the Plantagenets). The rest of their futures were identical. Even though they were only five, they were tall for their age and were more English than Spanish, which was opposite to the Prince of Wales.
Princess Margaret was the quiet one.
She was the exact opposite of her aunt and namesake.
She hadn't been told of her fate in Portugal yet.
Henry VIII decided he'll tell her when she's a little older. Most likely when she's six or seven. Then she'll understand like Mary.
The little ones-William, Elizabeth and Joanna-were still young.
Henry VIII knew that Princess Mary will soon leave for Spain.
He remembered when she was born, how happy he and Catherine were at the prospect of having a healthy, living child, even if she was a girl. A boy would've been delightful, but a girl was welcomed just as delightfully. Healthy girls meant future healthy boys.
Henry VIII hoped she won't die young.
In the nursery, Henry VIII glanced at Edward.
He fervently wished that he could give him the title Earl of Pembroke, but knew that Catherine would be more depressed than she already is.
Norfolk watched him from a distance.
His son, the Earl of Surrey, had already married Lady Frances de Vere.
He didn't want to lose an ally, but he viewed that marriage as a waste of an alliance.
He had made it his life's goal to make sure one of his children and at least one other Howard marries into the royal family, and use their influence over their royal spouse to veer advantages to the Howards and their allies. Norfolk was certain that the Howards who married into royalty will be grateful to him, and will include him in their plans, and inform him of what's happening in Parliament. Norfolk can push a Howard into the royal family, and push one away or out of the royal family if that Howard refuses to help him and comply to his wishes.
Norfolk is the God of the Howard family.
The Howards all admired and feared him.
None of them were brave (or foolish) enough to stand up to him and argue back. They all knew that their lives were controlled by him.
He met the Earl of Wiltshire in the courtyard.
"Norfolk," said Thomas Boleyn shortly.
"Hello Thomas," said Norfolk pleasantly. "I'm glad you can come."
"It's not like I have a bloody choice, is it?"
"Now, now. I thought that your behaviour had changed when you married my sister, but alas! I thought too soon. My father was a fool for making an alliance with your father. You should be grateful that I took it upon myself that you receive the title Earl of Wiltshire instead of remaining a knight! I didn't call you here to discuss pleasantries of life. I've called you here because we have business to discuss. It's about time to put your daughters to use."
"Excuse me?!"
"Your daughters are part-Howard, part-Boleyn by blood."
"And you want to use them as chips in your game?! Your reasons better be good, Norfolk. I'm not willing for you to take them and use them that way."
"My reasons are excellent, Wiltshire."
"And what may they be?"
"Have you heard from the Queen's physicians lately?"
"No. Why?"
"Have you noticed anything odd about the Queen?"
"Why yes. She hadn't given birth to a child yet! She doesn't seem pregnant either."
"Good. She isn't. I bribed a physician to tell me what happened. Apparently, the Queen lost a great deal of blood during the last pregnancy, and the physicians advised her to have no more children. Princess Joanna is her last child. Wiltshire, what do you think will happen? Our King is a lusty man who can't live without siring children for long."
"Are you saying that he'll be more-"
"More unfaithful to the Queen? Yes, I do."
"What does this…oh no."
"Exactly. I'm glad to see that you haven't lost your ambitious brain after your promotion. This'll benefit the Howards very well."
"I won't have my daughters as whores!"
"Not both of them for God's sake! Only Mary!"
"Why Mary?"
"She's the prettier and fairer one. She doesn't question us either."
"How about Anne?"
"I have a better plan for her."
"What happens when Mary becomes pregnant with the King's child? She'll be abandoned with the child in a heartbeat! What will we do with the child? Nothing will come out of it for us! Mary will lose her reputation and virtue!"
"For the better good."
"You don't know what it feels like! You don't have any daughters old enough for child-bearing! Your children are young!"
Norfolk said nothing.
His brother-in-law didn't deserve to be in the Noble House of Howards.
He was reluctant to join in his plans.
"You didn't deserve to marry my sister," said Norfolk quietly. "Your unhelpfulness and reluctance in helping me with my plans will be remembered and not forgotten. When a Howard brings riches to us, you won't receive any, and you won't get elevated in your ranking. If you refuse me again, your children will be taken away from you."
"You can't do that!" said Wiltshire, taken back.
"I can. I'll make sure your wife is in charge of the children."
"Just because she's a Howard!"
"Because she's always helpful to me, and understands the gamble in risking our daughters and sons' lives in the games with the King! You may be ambitious, but view your own Boleyn family more important than the Howard family! That won't be tolerated, Wiltshire. If you want the fortunes that'll compensate for the loss of your daughter's virtue and reputation, I suggest you behave according to a minor member of the House of Howard and go along with my plans."
"Excuse me?! Minor member?!"
"Oh, forgive me. Major member of the House of Howard."
Wiltshire scowled at him.
The Duke smiled unpleasantly back at him.
His plans would always succeed one way or another.
"Fine," grumbled Wiltshire.
"Good," said Norfolk, handing a large, heavy velvet purse (weighed down with gold coins) to him. "This is for your cooperation."
He always paid his relatives who cooperate (even reluctantly).
"I expect to see your daughters in our next meeting," he told Wiltshire.
Wiltshire scowled again and left.
Norfolk went back into the palace, feeling satisfied with himself. Catherine's no threat to him. She might as well kiss the Crown good bye. Norfolk knew that the only thing that could save Catherine from a possible marriage separation with her husband, was to have a child, which might kill Catherine herself. She didn't have a lot of good options to live.
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