used to talk to me about it during those dark days when the King's Secret Matter was, in spite of this appellation, the most discussed subject at Court.
When I was four years old, my parents went to France. There was a great deal of excitement about this visit because it was meant to mark a new bond of friendship between France and England. The King of France and my father were going to show the world that they were allies; but mainly they were telling this to the Emperor Charles, who was the rival of them both.
I wondered whether they would take me with them. But they did not. Instead I was sent to Richmond. This was a change from Ditton, although I had my household with me and the Countess and Lady Bryan were in charge. But the Countess did try to impress on me that it was different because my parents were out of the country and that put me into a more important position than I should have been in if they were here. I tried to grasp what this meant but the Countess seemed to decide that she could not explain. I heard her say to Lady Bryan, “How can this be expected of a child?”
There was a great deal of talk about what was happening in France and there were descriptions of splendid tournaments and entertainments. The occasion was referred to as “The Field of the Cloth of Gold,” which conjured up visions of great grandeur in my mind. My mother told me later that it was not all they had thought it was while it was in progress.
I have always deplored the fact that I missed great events and that they came to me by hearsay. I often told myself that, if I had been present, if I could have experienced these important occasions when they happened, I could have learned much and been able to deal more skillfully with my own problems when they arose.
It was while my parents were in France that three high-ranking Frenchmen came to the Court.
This threw the Countess into an agony of doubt. I heard her discussing the matter with Sir Henry Rowte.
“Of course, we have to consider her position. But such a child…Oh, no, it would be impossible, and yet…”
Sir Henry said, “Her extreme youth must be considered by everyone. Surely…”
“But who is to receive them? She is… who she is…”
I understood that they were talking about me.
A decision was arrived at. The Countess came to my schoolroom where I was having a lesson on the virginals.
“Princess,” she said, “important gentlemen have come from France. If the King or Queen were here, they would receive them, but as you know, they are in France. So … as their daughter … you must greet these arrivals.”
It did not occur to me that this would be difficult, and I suppose, as I felt no fear, I carried off the meeting in a manner which, on account of my youth, surprised all who beheld it. I knew how to hold out my hand to be kissed. I knew that I must smile and listen to what was said and, if I did not understand, merely go on smiling. It was easy.
I was aware of their admiration, and the Countess looked on, pursing her lips and nodding her head a little as she did when she was pleased.
One of the gentlemen asked me what I liked doing most. I considered a while and then said that I liked playing on the virginals.
Would I play for him? he asked.
I said I would.
I heard afterward that everyone marvelled at my skill in being able to play a tune without a fault. They said they had never known one so young such a good musician.
The Countess was gratified. She said my parents would be delighted to hear how I had entertained their guests during their absence.
Often during the years that followed, I would look back on those early days and fervently wish that I had never had to grow up.
In due course my parents returned from France. There was still a great deal of talk about the brilliant meeting of the two kings. I kept my ears open and heard scraps of conversation among the courtiers when I was with the Court. I learned how the two kings had vied with each other, how they were determined to show the world—and the Emperor Charles—that they were the best of friends. When they were in