Part 2 (1/2)

But, briefly, Henry VIII hesitated: his councillors told Fuensalida that, unexpectedly, he was suffering 'certain scruples of conscience' and wondering whether he would 'commit a sin by marrying the widow of his deceased brother', as such unions were forbidden in the Bible. It seemed that certain churchmen had been whispering in Henry's ear, Warham amongst them; and the King's conscience was a rather tender organ, as many would later find to their cost. Informed of Henry's doubts by Fuensalida, Ferdinand hastened to rea.s.sure the young King that 'such a marriage is perfectly lawful, as the Pope has given a dispensation for it, while the consequence of it will be peace between England and Spain'. He drew Henry's attention to the King of Portugal, who had married two of Katherine's sisters in succession and was 'blessed with numerous offspring, and lives very cheerfully and happily'. Ferdinand felt certain that 'the same happiness is reserved for the King of England, who will enjoy the greatest felicity in his union with the Princess of Wales, and leave numerous children behind him'. Fuensalida told Katherine that Ferdinand loved her 'the most of his children and looks on the King of England like a son'. It was Ferdinand's intention to give advice about everything to Henry VIII, 'like a true father'; Katherine's duty would be to foster an understanding between the two men and ensure that her future husband would heed Ferdinand's guidance in all matters of state.

Early in June 1509, the Privy Council urged the King to marry Katherine and fulfil the terms of the betrothal treaty. They did not have to spell out why the matter was urgent, as Henry was more than cognizant of the insecurity of his dynasty. Instead, they extolled Katherine's virtues, saying she was 'the image of her mother, (and) like her possesses that wisdom and greatness of mind which win the respect of nations'. As for Henry's scruples about the canonical legality of the marriage, 'we have the Pope's dispensation,' they said; 'will you be more scrupulous than he is?'

The King could only agree that there were many good reasons for the marriage; above all, he told them, 'he desired her above all women; he loved her and longed to wed her.' Most of the Councillors knew this: since the age of ten, Henry had looked up to 70 and admired his pretty sister-in-law; and, as he had grown to manhood, and had seen how well Katherine had coped with the adversity and humiliations she had suffered, his admiration had deepened, not to pa.s.sion - it would never be that - but to love in its most chivalrous form, blended with deep respect. This apart, honour demanded that Henry should marry her, as by so doing he would rescue her from penury and dishonour, like a knight errant of old, and win her unending grat.i.tude. It was a plan that appealed vastly to the King's youthful conceit. Indeed, there was even a certain smugness in his approach to his marriage, for he was later to inform King Ferdinand that he had 'rejected all the other ladies in the world that have been offered to us', which, in his view, proved beyond doubt the depth of the 'singular love' he bore to his 'very beloved' Katherine. Undoubtedly he found her attractive, with her long golden hair and fair skin; he was impressed by her maturity, her dignity, her lineage and her graciousness. Everything about her proclaimed her a fit mate for the King of England, and Henry, who was no fool, realised this.

Yet in some ways she was an unwise choice. Doubts that the marriage might be uncanonical were well founded in the opinion of some churchmen of the time, though they, knowing the King's will in the matter, kept silent for the most part. Then there was the matter of the five-and-a-half-year age gap, and the fact that Katherine, at twenty-three, was well past her first youth by the standards of her day, and rather old to be contemplating motherhood for the first time. Many girls married at fourteen and bore a child the following year, while the average age at death for women in Tudor times was around thirty. Henry VIII could have had his pick of the young princesses of Europe, but he needed the alliance with Spain, he wanted Katherine's dowry to add to his already rich inheritance, and, above all, he wanted Katherine herself.

And what Henry VIII wanted, he usually got.

Sir Loyal Heart and the Tudor court.

One day in early June 1509 Henry, in a buoyant mood, made his way from the Council Chamber at Greenwich to Katherine's apartments. He came alone, and dismissed her attendants. Then he raised the Princess from her curtsy with a courtly gesture, declared his love for her, and asked her to be his wife. Without any hesitation, she joyfully agreed, relief and happiness evident in her face and voice.

This was the culmination of all Katherine's hopes during the last six years: G.o.d had now seen fit to answer her prayers, and she was filled with thankfulness. She would be Queen of England, raised by this magnificent young man to be the bride of his heart and the mother of his heirs. Those courtiers who had scorned her and tried to humiliate her would now have to defer to her, and she would not have been human if she did not relish the prospect. The days of want were gone for good, for very shortly she would be the wife of the richest monarch ever to reign in England.

Fray Diego was all but forgotten now, as Katherine gave her heart unreservedly to her future husband. That she fell quickly in love with him we may easily believe as she had long ago responded to his charm and good looks, and he, now that the matter had been decided, saw no need to wait much longer before they could legally share a bed. His coronation was planned for midsummer, and he wanted Katherine to share it with him as queen.

Henry VIII and Katherine of Aragon were married privately on 72 11 June 1509, the feast day of St Barnabas, in her closet at Greenwich, by William Warham, who was now Archbishop of Canterbury, and had once spoken out against their union. Katherine wore virginal white with her long hair flowing free under a gold circlet, and vowed to be 'bonair and buxom in bed and at board' as was laid down in the more robust form of the marriage service then in use.

The Archbishop p.r.o.nounced the young pair man and wife, then the small wedding party proceeded to the Chapel of the Observant Friars within the palace precincts to hear ma.s.s.

There is no record of the King and his new Queen being publicly put to bed together; their wedding was private, therefore it is likely that they were accorded some privacy afterwards. However, there was never any doubt that Katherine's second marriage was ardently consummated that night.

To his contemporaries, Katherine's bridegroom was the true heir in blood to both Lancaster and York, and the reincarnation of his magnificent maternal grandfather, Edward IV. He was a man of great physical beauty, above the usual height, being around 6'1” 6'1” tall (his skeleton, discovered at Windsor in the early nineteenth century, measured 6'2” in length, whilst his armour, preserved in the Tower of London, would fit a man of nearly 6'4”). He was magnificent to look at, being lean and muscular, with an extremely fine calf to his leg of which he was inordinately proud, and had skin so fair that it was almost translucent; we are told that it glowed, flus.h.i.+ng a rosy pink after the King had exercised. All were agreed that he was extremely handsome, and the amba.s.sadors who visited Henry VIII's court during the early years of his reign were united in their praise of his personal endowments: 'His Majesty is the handsomest potentate I ever set eyes on,' wrote the Venetian Sebastian Giustinian in 1514, adding that Henry had 'a round face so beautiful that it would become a pretty woman'. Five years later, that same amba.s.sador was still singing the King's praises: 'Nature could not have done more for him. He is very fair, his whole frame admirably proportioned.' He had strong features, with piercing blue eyes, a high-bridged nose, and a small but sensual mouth. His voice was slightly high-pitched. He had 'auburn hair combed straight and short in the French tall (his skeleton, discovered at Windsor in the early nineteenth century, measured 6'2” in length, whilst his armour, preserved in the Tower of London, would fit a man of nearly 6'4”). He was magnificent to look at, being lean and muscular, with an extremely fine calf to his leg of which he was inordinately proud, and had skin so fair that it was almost translucent; we are told that it glowed, flus.h.i.+ng a rosy pink after the King had exercised. All were agreed that he was extremely handsome, and the amba.s.sadors who visited Henry VIII's court during the early years of his reign were united in their praise of his personal endowments: 'His Majesty is the handsomest potentate I ever set eyes on,' wrote the Venetian Sebastian Giustinian in 1514, adding that Henry had 'a round face so beautiful that it would become a pretty woman'. Five years later, that same amba.s.sador was still singing the King's praises: 'Nature could not have done more for him. He is very fair, his whole frame admirably proportioned.' He had strong features, with piercing blue eyes, a high-bridged nose, and a small but sensual mouth. His voice was slightly high-pitched. He had 'auburn hair combed straight and short in the French 73 fas.h.i.+on', and until 1518 he was clean-shaven. He then grew a beard, saying he would not shave it off until he had met with and embraced his ally, the King of France. Queen Katherine protested, for she did not like this new bearded Henry, but the beard remained until 1519. Many thought it attractive - 'it is reddish and looks like gold' - but Katherine continued to complain about it, and by November that year the King had given in to her entreaties and shaved it off. An international catastrophe was only narrowly averted by Henry's amba.s.sador to France, who told King Francis the truth, whereupon the French courtiers, far from being indignant, were amused to learn that the mighty sovereign of England had capitulated to his usually complacent and meek wife. Thus, peace was preserved, and the Queen was kept happy.

Henry VIII had boundless energy and a strong const.i.tution. When, in 1514, he contracted smallpox, his doctors were afraid for his life, yet within days he was up, having 'risen from his bed to plan a military campaign'. However, throughout his life he had a pathological hatred of anything to do with illness and death, and he was as terrified as a child of the plague that troubled his kingdom during hot summers.

Giustinian thought Henry 'the best dressed sovereign in the world; his robes are the richest and most superb that can be imagined, and he puts on new clothes every holy day.' As the calendar was full of saints' days and religious festivals, that meant a lot of new clothes. There were outfits of cloth of gold, Florentine velvet, silver tissue, damask and satin, mantles lined with ermine, heavy gold collars with diamonds the size of walnuts suspended from them, ceremonial robes with trains four yards long, and jewelled rings worn on fingers and thumbs. Some clothes were cut in 'Hungarian' or 'Turkish' fas.h.i.+on, and many had raised embroidery in gold or silver thread. It was an age in which men strutted like peac.o.c.ks in their finery, although none was. finer than the King, who looked upon costume as a visual art.

Henry's contemporaries thought he was 'the most gentle and affable prince in the world'. He was quick to laugh and 'intelligent, with a merry look'. He had great charisma and a strong personality that won golden opinions. In 1509, Katherine's future chamberlain, Lord Mountjoy, told the Dutch humanist scholar Erasmus that the 74King, 'our Octavius', had an 'extraordinary and almost divine character. What a hero he now shows himself, how wisely he behaves, what a lover he is of goodness and justice! Our King does not desire gold or gems, but virtue, glory, immortality!' As Henry himself declared in one of his songs, idleness was the chief mistress of all vice, and he meant to follow the path of virtue, something by which he set great store throughout his life. That his expectations often related to others rather than himself he did not regard as inconsistent, for in his opinion his own deeds and behaviour were always morally justified. He was bursting with confidence, 'prudent, sage, and free from every vice'.

On the debit side, he was quick-tempered, headstrong, immature and vain. In 1515, he asked the Venetian amba.s.sador if the King of France was as tall as he: 'Is he as stout? What sort of legs has he?' 'Spare,' he was told. 'Look here!' crowed Henry, 'I also have a good calf to show!' And he opened his doublet to display his shapely, muscular legs. He 'could not abide to have any man stare in his face' when in conversation, yet he himself would often turn a steely gaze on people, and Sir Thomas More was not the only one to stammer under the 'quick and penetrable eyes' of his sovereign.

As the years pa.s.sed, Henry continued to attract praise and acclaim. He was well aware of his glorious reputation, and on occasions boasted about it. Yet as early as 1514 there were indications of the kind of ruler he would one day become, and the Spanish amba.s.sador was moved to warn his master, King Ferdinand, that if a bridle was not put on 'this colt, it will afterwards be found impossible to control him'. His words were echoed seven years later by Sir Thomas More, who advised Thomas Cromwell, then newly admitted to the King's service, that he should handle Henry with caution: 'For, if the lion knew his strength, hard were it to rule him.'

Henry was gifted with acute powers of reasoning and observation, as well as the ability to evaluate a person or situation almost immediately. He had a vast store of general knowledge that he used to good effect. Above all, he was an intellectual with 'most piercing talents'. According to Sir Thomas More, he had 'cultivated all the liberal arts' and possessed 'greater erudition and judgement than any previous monarch'. From infancy, he had been imbued with a pa.s.sion for learning, thanks to the good offices of his grandmother, 75the austere Lady Margaret Beaufort and was the most learned king yet to have ascended the throne of England. He was 'so gifted and adorned with mental accomplishments of every sort' that the Venetian amba.s.sadors 'believed him to have few equals in the world'. 'What affection he bears to the learned!' wrote Lord Mountjoy in 1509, informing Erasmus of Henry's intention to establish a haven for scholars at his court. Europe was then on the brink of a period of cultural flux, when men were beginning in earnest to question and rationalise in matters of religion or philosophy. During Henry's own lifetime, two great movements would affect his realm: the Renaissance, which would have a profound effect upon England's cultural life; and the Reformation, which was to overthrow the traditional conception of a Christian Republic of Europe for ever.

Henry's education had been extremely thorough. He could speak and write fluent French and Latin, understood Italian well and spoke it a little, and by 1520 was conversant with Spanish. He loved reading, and his favourite books during his younger years were the works of St Thomas Aquinas and Duns Scotus. However, in 1519, he began to suffer from recurring headaches and migraines, which made reading and writing 'somewhat tedious and painful'. The headaches continued to plague him for the rest of his life, and may well account to some extent for his later irascibility.

The King wrote several treatises during his life, and his letters to the Vatican were said to have been the most eloquent received there, for which reason they were exhibited in the consistory. His literary talents extended to pa.s.sionate love letters, as well as poetry. His chief interest was theology; he was a master of doctrinal debate, of which he was 'very fond', and would hear others out with 'remarkable courtesy and unruffled temper'. He was good at mathematics, and also keenly interested in astronomy, a pa.s.sion he shared with Sir Thomas More, who would often join him on the leads above Greenwich Palace to look at the night sky.

Henry VIII professed all his life a deep and sincere faith in G.o.d, and for many years regarded himself as a true sonofthe Church of Rome. He was known to attend as many as six ma.s.ses in a single day, and at least three on days when he hunted. Every evening, at 6.0 p.m. and 9.0 p.m., he went to the Queen's chamber to hear the offices of vespers and compline. At Easter, he 'crept to the Cross' on 76his knees, with all due humility. He also held himself up as an authority on doctrine, and was acknowledged as such by his contemporaries because 'he is very religious'.

In 1521, while convalescing after a fever, the King added the finis.h.i.+ng pages to a Latin treatise he had been working on for some time with a.s.sistance from others, notably Sir Thomas More. It was ent.i.tledA Defence of the Seven Sacraments against Martin Luther,and was an attack upon the heresies propagated since 1517 by a former monk of Wittenburg in Germany, who would thirty years later be hailed in England as the founder of the Protestant religion. Henry was well aware that information about Luther's controversial teachings was already filtering through to England, and had gained hold in Germany. Yet although he himself enjoyed disputing points of doctrine, heresy was another matter entirely, and he was appalled that any credence should be given to the corrupt teachings of 'this weed, this dilapidated, sick and evil-minded sheep'.

Henry VIII, like most of his contemporaries, was well aware that there were certain abuses within the established Church that needed reforming, but he was a religious conservative at heart, and would not countenance heresy as a means of achieving this. To Henry, and men like him, heresy was a poison that threatened the very foundations of the superstructure of Church and State as one body politic. It encouraged disaffection among the lower cla.s.ses, challenged the divinely appointed order of things, and - worst of all - meant eternal d.a.m.nation for those who succ.u.mbed to its lure. In sum, it represented every evil that could be manifested in a well-ordered world, and must therefore be eradicated.

In his book, the King's central argument was for the retention of the seven sacraments - Luther had rejected all but two. Marriage, in particular, was upheld by Henry, for it turned 'the water of concupiscence' into 'wine of the finest flavour. Whom G.o.d hath joined together, let no man put asunder.' Luther had also rejected the authority of the Pope, but the King exhorted all faithful souls to 'honour and acknowledge the sacred Roman See for their supreme mother'. When Thomas More suggested that this was a little extravagant, Henry protested that he was so 'bounden' to the See of Rome that he could not do enough to honour it: 'We will set forth the Pope's authority to the uttermost,' he declared - words he was later to regret.

77Although Luther himself accused Henry VIII of raving 'like a strumpet in a tantrum' in the book, and spoke of 'stuffing such impudent falsehoods down his throat', the Pope received the treatise with rapturous praise, and in the autumn of 1521 rewarded Henry with the t.i.tleFidei Defensor(Defender of the Faith) in grat.i.tude. Elizabeth II still bears this t.i.tle today, though Britain has been an independent Protestant state for more than four centuries.

Apart from religion, Henry loved gambling, good food, and dancing, in which he did 'marvellous things, both in dancing and jumping, proving himself indefatigable'. He was obsessive about hunting, which he preferred above all else. The 'grease season' was traditionally in the autumn, but Henry also hunted at other times of the year, both for pleasure and to provide for his table. In the autumn, however, he would take a rest from state duties and go on a progress through parts of his kingdom, chiefly for the purpose of discovering the delights of different chases. 'He never takes his diversion without tiring eight or ten horses,' wrote the Venetian amba.s.sador in 1519; 'when he gets home, they are all exhausted.' In fact, he exhausted most of his male companions too by 'converting the sport of hunting into a martyrdom'. And, after a successful day, it was not unknown for him to boast about his success for three or four hours at a time. Queen Katherine enjoyed hunting too, and sometimes accompanied her husband.

Being an excellent horseman and an expert in the martial arts, Henry was also pa.s.sionately fond of that other great medieval sport, the jousting tournament, which was almost a weekly event during the early years of his reign. He was a fine jouster who was conspicuous in the combats, both on horseback and on foot, excelling everyone else 'as much in agility at breaking spears as in n.o.bleness of stature'. At one tournament in 1518, Henry performed 'supernatural feats', causing his magnificent charger to jump and execute other acts of horsemans.h.i.+p'. Then, changing mounts, he made his fresh steed 'fly rather than leap, to the delight and ecstasy of everybody'. The Queen would never miss a joust if she could help it, and watched with her ladies from specially erected pavilions at the side of the lists.

Another sport at which he excelled was tennis, not the game played at Wimbledon today, but 'royal' (real) tennis played on a hard, enclosed court- Henry's court is preserved at Hampton Court - an altogether tougher and more dangerous game. The Household Accounts for the year 1519 record a payment for 3V4 yards of black velvet for a 'tennis coat for his Grace'. 'It is the prettiest thing in the world to see him play, his fair skin glowing through a s.h.i.+rt of the finest texture,' reported the Venetian amba.s.sador.

Henry enjoyed hawking, 'running the ring', 'casting the bar', wrestling, and archery. He practised daily at the archery b.u.t.ts and pa.s.sed a law requiring every man in England to spend an hour doing the same on Sat.u.r.day afternoons, such was his faith in the reputation of the longbow as the traditional instrument of English military success; he himself could 'draw the bow with greater strength than any man in England'. He also wished to ensure that the young men of his court were expert in the martial skills, and on one occasion in 1510 arranged for a fight with battle axes to take place in the presence of the Queen and her ladies in Greenwich Park, thus mixing military exercise with pleasure.

Henry had a lifelong love of the sea and all things maritime. He ordered the building of several great s.h.i.+ps - including theHenry Grace-a-Dieuand theMary Rose -and has been rightly acclaimed as the founder of Britain's modern navy. In 1515, he went with the Queen to review his fleet at Southampton, wearing a 'sailor's coat and trousers of frieze cloth of gold' and carrying 'a large whistle with which he whistled almost as loud as a trumpet'. He was in his element that day, on board his flags.h.i.+p, where for a couple of hours he enjoyed himself immensely, acting as pilot.

His pleasures were not always so boisterous. He inherited from his Welsh forbears an abiding love of music, and could play a number of instruments, sing and compose. He was particularly accomplished on the lute, harpsichord, recorder, flute and virginals, and would often entertain the court by singing and playing his own compositions. He could 'sing from the book at sight', often set his own verses to music, and composed anthems and hymns. One, 'O Lord, the maker of all things', is still sung in churches today. Yet Henry preferred writing secular songs, mostly in the courtly tradition, with English or French lyrics. The most famous were 'Green groweth the holly' (probably written for Katherine of Aragon),'Adieu Madame et ma mahtresse(written much later for Anne Boleyn), and 'Pastime with 79good company', which vividly portrays his mood at the commencement of his reign.

In these early years, Henry VIII's pleasures took precedence. His att.i.tude to kings.h.i.+p and the duties of state he was required to perform was a different matter entirely. He had had a cloistered upbringing before suddenly finding himself in a position of power, honour and wealth, a heady experience for a youth of eighteen. Perhaps it was not surprising that he spent his days in pursuit of amus.e.m.e.nt rather than learning statecraft. Matters of state, he felt, could safely be left in the hands of his Privy Council; in fact, 'he did not care to occupy himself with anything but the pleasures of his age'.

The mature men appointed to advise him were so slow that they caused him 'much disgust': Henry preferred the company of the young men of the court with whom he had shared his boyhood. His councillors were alarmed to see him squandering his father's carefully ama.s.sed wealth on expensive and frivolous pastimes when he should have been learning about the government of his kingdom, and they were at pains to persuade him - not without difficulty - to sit in on meetings of the Privy Council, 'with which at first he could not endure to be troubled'. As the French amba.s.sador observed, 'Henry is a youngling, cares for nothing but girls and hunting, and wastes his father's patrimony.'

His councillors hoped that, given time to mature, he would settle down and fulfil their expectations. Yet it was a slow process. In 1514, the Milanese amba.s.sador complained that the King had put off their discussion about politics to another time, 'as he was then in a hurry to go and dine and dance afterwards'. Affairs of state, even after five years on the throne, were still ranking fairly low on Henry's scale of priorities. Even as late as 1519, the Papal nuncio reported that he was 'devoting himself to accomplishments and amus.e.m.e.nts day and night, being intent on nothing else'. All business was left to Cardinal Wolsey, 'who rules everything'. This was the situation that endured until the late 1520s, when Henry began to take the reins of government into his own hands.

It was the outward trappings of kings.h.i.+p that were important to Henry VIII during these early years: the pageantry, the ceremonial, the gorgeous robes, the priceless jewels, and the glittering court, and 80 he pa.s.sionately believed that they all served to enhance the image of royalty. It was Henry who was the first English King to express a preference to be styled 'Your Majesty' rather than the customary 'Your Grace'. He saw himself, indeed, as a hallowed being set apart from the ordinary species of men, and it was a persona he consciously cultivated, so confident did he become of his own divinity. No King of England before him enjoyed such power, nor ever would after him.

A man of contrasts, he personified for the average Englishman all the strengths and virtues of his race, and it was this that lay at the root of his vast popularity. As Prince of Wales his charm had won the hearts of his people, and now, exalted to kings.h.i.+p, he was feted as the herald of a new age, a golden epoch that would witness a return to England's former glory, the revival of the days of chivalry, and the ultimate conquest of France - the new King's ambitions were well-publicised. The English loved Henry for his youth, his beauty, his high courage, his accomplishments, and above all for having identified their interests as his own. He was very knowledgeable about most of the issues that touched their lives, having been born with a talent for absorbing information, and there was 'no necessary kind of knowledge, from King's degree to carter's, but he had an honest sight of it'. He was fond, in his younger years, of mingling incognito among his subjects, in order to learn their views on the issues of the day.

In 1509, it was said that the whole world was 'rejoicing in the possession of such a King'. The pa.s.sing of years did not dampen this enthusiasm, for in 1513 we are told that 'love for the King is universal with all who see him, as his Highness does not seem a person of this world but one descended from Heaven'. Erasmus, later still, described Henry as 'more of a companion than a King', a view that would have earned the hearty agreement of those courtiers with whom the King hunted, tilted, and otherwise amused himself. This common touch came naturally to him, and would serve to hold the love and loyalty of his subjects until he died.

In an era of arranged marriages, men were not censured for taking their pleasure when they found it. In his youth, the King was commendably discreet about such matters, so much so that we know absolutely nothing about his s.e.xual activities, if any, before his 81accession. As Prince of Wales, he had led a cloistered life and had cultivated a chivalrous att.i.tude towards the opposite s.e.x, seeing himself as the knight errant whose role it was to flirt, offer elegant compliments, and profess undying love. When he came to the throne, women were waiting for him in droves, and freed from the confines of his princely existence, he made the most of his position and took what they offered. In this respect, though he was far from virtuous by modern standards of morality, by the standards of his time, and compared to other princes of the age, he was quite circ.u.mspect. Thanks to his discretion, Queen Katherine never knew of these early infidelities, which were fleeting anyway, and as far as Henry was concerned, they had nothing to do with her. His love for her was on a different plane completely.

Having s.e.x was one thing, talking about it quite another. The King was very prudish, and was known to blush at bawdy remarks. He abhorred lightness in married women, even though he was not above pursuing them himself. And from his wife, he expected total fidelity and absolute obedience.

Katherine of Aragon first appeared at court as Queen of England on the day her marriage to the King was proclaimed, 15 June 1509. Henceforth, she would be at Henry's side at all state and court functions. She had already adopted the pomegranate, symbol of fertility, as her personal badge, and now she took the motto 'Humble and Loyal' for her personal device. In the royal palaces of England, an army of carpenters, stonemasons and embroiderers were already carving, chiselling and st.i.tching her initials and Henry's, 'H' and 'K', on every available surface, and her throne was set beside the King's under the rich canopy of estate.