THE FIRST IMPORTANT event after my arrival at the court of Henry VIII was the celebration of Candlemas on the second of February, honoring the puri-fication of the Virgin Mary. With the queen and her retinue, I attended Mass celebrated by Cardinal Wolsey. He was a rotund figure robed in crimson, with cold eyes and a chilling smile. I disliked him on sight.
Oh, but King Henry was all anyone could wish for! At the feast that followed the blessing of the candles, I could scarcely take my eyes from him. He seemed at the age of thirty-one almost godlike, the tallest man in the court, the most vigorous and forceful of manner, and the most splendid in his person.
Dressed in opulent robes studded with jewels and seated beneath his richly embroidered cloth of estate,
King Henry made every man around him seem insignificant by comparison.
Next to him sat his wife, Queen Catherine. Amuch older woman whose looks had long since faded, she presented an unfortunate contrast to her husband. Also present was the king‘s six-year-old daughter, Princess Mary, a delicate child with her father‘s red-gold hair and blue eyes.
