in itself ridiculous but the King was anxious to show his feelings for his son, and at this time— though I learned this later—he was calling attention to the sorry plight in which he and the nation had been placed by his marriage to a woman who could not bear a son.
I did not see my mother at this time. Even my father would not expect her to be present at such a ceremony, for he must have realized how painful it would be to her. It was an indication of his resentment that he had allowed it to take place. Later I saw how every act of his at this time was working toward one end.
This ceremony concerned me too. I was the heir to the throne. What did the King mean by bestowing such an honor on his bastard? It must have occurred to many that he intended to set the boy above me. It would never be tolerated. The people of England would not have a bastard on the throne.
Being but nine years old, and only just made aware of the perfidy of rulers, I could not grasp the significance of these events; but at the same time I was aware of disaster looming. It was like the shivering of aspen leaves when a storm is approaching; it was in the silences of people around me and the sudden termination of conversations when I approached.
Soon after the ceremony the French envoy, De Vaux, came to London. He had been sent, the Countess told me, by the mother of François who was acting as the Regent of France during the King's absence in Madrid.
“Why is he here?” I asked.
“It is to make terms with your father.”
“That means there is peace with France?”
“There will be.”
“What of the Emperor? Our alliance with him is over?”
“Well, the war is over now.”
“So we are no longer friends with him?”
“Oh, it will be amicably settled… but no one has any wish to continue with the war.”
“But why does the French envoy come here?”
“He will make peace terms with your father.”
“It seems so strange. We hated them so much and now there are lavish entertainments for the French.”
“That is diplomacy.”
“I do not understand it.”
“Few people understand diplomacy. It is a veil of discretion and politeness covering the real meaning.”
“Why do people not say what they mean?”
“Because that could be very disturbing.”
I did know that I was one of the subjects which was being discussed by my father, the Cardinal and the French envoy. First it was announced that I was to go to Ludlow.
My mother came to tell me this. I noticed that she looked older. There was gray in her hair, more lines on her face, and her skin had lost its healthy color.
“You are to go to Ludlow, my dear child,” she told me. “You will like it there.”
“I wonder why I am so suddenly to go,” I said. I was beginning to realize that there were usually reasons.
“Your father thinks it would be good for you to go. You see, Ludlow is an important place. Your Uncle Arthur was there just before he died. I remember it well. It is a very beautiful spot. Prince Arthur was Prince of Wales when he was there, and you will be the Princess of Wales. Your father is going to give you that title.”
I was pleased, particularly as I had felt that fluttering of alarm because of the honor done to Henry Fitzroy.
“Your household will go with you,” my mother explained. “It will be just as it is here.”
“And you, my lady?”
Her lips tightened as though she were trying to control some emotion.
“I shall, of course, be with the Court. But we shall meet often and there will be no change. Your father will wish you to go very soon.”
The Countess told me that it was good that we were going. “It means,” she explained, “that your father is telling the world that you are Princess of Wales.”
“That means the heir to the throne, does it not?”
“It does indeed.”
“Perhaps he thought that people wondered after the honor done to Henry Fitzroy.”
“Oh, that was not important. You must not think that it detracts from you. You are his daughter. Everyone knows that. They know the respect that is due to you. Now we shall have to prepare for your departure, which I believe is to be soon.”
MY PARENTS AND the Court accompanied me to Langley in Hertfordshire, and there I said goodbye to them. There