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Royalty Restored or London under Charles II
Chapter IX
by Molloy, J. Fitzgerald
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Court life under the merry monarch.--Riding in Hyde Park.
--Sailing on the Thames.--Ball at Whitehall.--Petit soupers.
--What happened at Lady Gerrard's.--Lady Castlemaine quarrels
with the king.--Flight to Richmond.--The queen falls ill.--The
king's grief and remorse.--Her majesty speaks.--Her secret sorrow
finds voice in delirium.--Frances Stuart has hopes.--The queen
recovers.
Views of court life during the first years of the merry monarch's
reign, obtainable from works of his contemporaries, present a
series of brilliant, changeful, and interesting pictures. Scarce
a day passed that their majesties, attended by a goodly throng of
courtiers, went not abroad, to the vast delight of the town: and
rarely a night sped by unmarked by some magnificent
entertainment, to the great satisfaction of the court. At noon
it was a custom of the king and queen, surrounded by maids of
honour and gentlemen in waiting, the whole forming a gladsome and
gallant crowd, to ride in coaches or on horseback in Hyde Park:
which place has been described as "a field near the town, used by
the king and nobility for the freshness of the air, and goodly
prospect."
Here in a railed-off circle, known as the ring, and situated in
the northern half of the park, the whole world of fashion and
beauty diverted itself. Noble gallants wearing broad-brimmed
hats and waving plumes, doublets of velvet, and ruffles of rich
lace; and fair women with flowing locks and dainty patches,
attired in satin gowns, and cloaks wrought with embroidery, drove
round and round, exchanging salutations and smiles as they
passed. Here it was good Mr. Pepys saw the Countess of
Castlemaine, among many fine ladies, lying "impudently upon her
back in her coach asleep, with her mouth wide open." And on
another occasion the same ingenious gentleman observed the king
and my lady pass and repass in their respective coaches, they
greeting one another at every turn.
But Mr. Pepys gives us another picture, in which he shows us the
king riding right gallantly beside his queen, and therefore
presents him to better advantage. This excellent gossip,
sauntering down Pall Mall one bright summer day, it being the
middle of July, in the year 1663, met the queen mother walking
there, led by her supposed husband, the Earl of St. Albans. And,
hearing the king and queen rode abroad with the ladies of honour
to the park, and seeing a great crowd of gallants awaiting their
return, he also stayed, walking up and down the while. "By-and-
by," says he, "the king and queene, who looked in this dress (a
white laced waistcoate and a crimson short pettycoate, and her
hair dressed A LA NEGLIGENCE) mighty pretty; and the king rode
hand in hand with her. Here was also my Lady Castlemaine riding
amongst the rest of the ladies; but the king took, methought, no
notice of her; nor when they light did anybody press (as she
seemed to expect, and staid for it) to take her down, but was
taken down by her own gentlemen. She looked mighty out of
humour, and had a yellow plume in her hat (which all took notice
of), and yet is very handsome. I followed them up into
Whitehall, and into the queene's presence, where all the ladies
walked, talking and fiddling with their hats and feathers, and
changing and trying one another's by one another's heads, and
laughing. But it was the finest sight to me, considering their
great beautys and dress, that ever I did see in my life. But,
above all, Mrs. Stuart in this dresse with her hat cocked and a
red plume, with her sweet eye, little Roman nose, and excellent
taille, is now the greatest beauty I ever saw, I think, in my
life; and, if ever woman can, do exceed my Lady Castlemaine, at
least in this dresse: nor do I wonder if the king changes, which
I verily believe is the reason of his coldness to my Lady
Castlemaine."
Having returned from the park, dined at noon, walked in the
palace gardens, or played cards till evening came, their
majesties, surrounded by a brilliant and joyous court, would in
summer time descend the broad steps leading from Whitehall to the
Thames, and embark upon the water for greater diversion. Never
was there so goodly a sight, seldom so merry a company. The
barges in which they sailed were draped to the water's edge with
bright fabrics, hung with curtains of rich silk, and further
adorned with gay pennants. And, as the long procession of boats,
filled with fair women and gallant men, followed their majesties
adown the placid Thames towards pleasant Richmond, my Lord Arran
would delight the ears of all by his performance on the guitar;
the fair Stuart would sing French songs in her sweet childlike
voice; or a concert of music would suddenly resound from the
banks, being placed there to surprise by some ingenious courtier.
And presently landing on grassy meads, delightful to sight by
freshness of their colour, and sweet to scent from odour of their
herbs, the court would sup right heartily; laugh, drink, and make
love most merrily, until early shadows stole across the summer
sky, and night-dews fell upon the thirsty earth. Then king,
queen, and courtiers once more embarking, would sail slowly back,
whilst the moon rose betimes in the heavens, and the barges
streaked the waters with silver lines.
At other times magnificent entertainments filled the nights with
light and revelry. Pepys tells us of a great ball he witnessed
in the last month of the year 1662 at the palace of Whitehall.
He was carried thither by Mr. Povy, a member of the Tangier
Commission, and taken at first to the Duke of York's chambers,
where his royal highness and the duchess were at supper; and from
thence "into a room where the ball was to be, crammed with fine
ladies, the greatest of the court. By-and-by comes the king and
queene, the duke and duchess, and all the great ones; and, after
seating themselves, the king takes out the Duchess of York; and
the duke the Duchess of Buckingham; the Duke of Monmouth my Lady
Castlemaine; and so other lords other ladies; and they danced the
bransle. After that, the king led a lady a single coranto; and
then the rest of the lords, one after another, other ladies:
very noble it was, and great pleasure to see. Then to country
dances: the king leading the first. Of the ladies that danced,
the Duke of Monmouth's lady, and my Lady Castlemaine, and a
daughter of Sir Harry de Vicke's were the best. The manner was,
when the king dances, all the ladies in the room, and his queene
herself, stand up: and indeed he dances rarely, and much better
than the Duke of York."
PETIT SOUPERS were another form of entertainments, greatly
enjoyed by Charles, and accordingly much in vogue with his
courtiers. The Chevalier de Grammont had principally helped to
make them fashionable, his suppers being served With the greatest
elegance, attended by the choicest wits, and occasionally
favoured with the presence of majesty itself. Nor were Lady
Gerrard's PETIT SOUPERS less brilliant, or her company less
distinguished. Her ladyship boasted of French parentage and
understood the art of pleasing to perfection; and accordingly at
her board wine flowed, wit sparkled, and love obtained in the
happiest manner. Now it happened one of her delightful
entertainments was destined to gain a notoriety she by no means
coveted, and concerning which the French ambassador, Count de
Comminges, wrote pleasantly enough to the Marquis de Lionne.
It came to pass that Lady Gerrard, who loved the queen, requested
the honour of their majesties to sup with her. She, moreover,
invited some of the courtiers, amongst whom she did not include
my Lady Castlemaine. On the appointed night the king and queen
duly arrived; the other guests had already assembled; and the
hour gave fair promise of entertainment. But presently, when
supper was announced, his majesty was missing, and on inquiry it
was discovered he had left the house for Lady Castlemaine's
lodgings, where he spent the evening. Such an insult as this so
openly dealt the queen, and such an indignity put upon the
hostess, caused the greatest agitation to all present; and
subsequently afforded subject for scandalous gossip to the town.
It moreover showed that the monarch was yet an abject slave of
his mistress, whose charms entangled him irresistibly. At least
four times a week he supped with her, returning at early morning
from her lodgings, in a stealthy way, through the privy gardens,
a proceeding of which the sentries took much notice, joked
unbecomingly, and gossiped freely.
Now in order to avoid further observation at such times, and
silence rumours which consequently obtained, his majesty removed
the countess from her lodgings in that part of the palace divided
by the road leading to Westminster from the chief block, and
furnished her with apartments next his own chamber. The poor
queen, who had sought by every means in her power to win his
affection, was sorely grieved at this action, and moreover
depressed by the neglect to which she was continually subjected.
Sometimes four months were allowed to pass without his deigning
to sup with her, though the whole court was aware he constantly
paid that honour to her infamous rival. But knowing how
unavailing reproach would be, she held her peace; and feeling
how obtrusive her sorrow would seem, she hid her tears. Now and
again, however, a look would flash in her eyes, and an answer
rise to her lips, which showed how deeply she felt her bitter
wrongs. "I wonder your majesty has the patience to sit so long
adressing," said my Lady Castlemaine to her one morning when she
found her yet in the dresser's hands. "I have so much reason to
use patience," answered the neglected wife, "that I can very well
bear with it."
And so the countess continued to reign paramount in his majesty's
favour until the middle of July, 1663, when a rumour spread
through the town that she had quarrelled with the king, and had
consequently fallen from her high estate. The cause of
disagreement between the monarch and his mistress is narrated by
the French ambassador in a letter to Louis XIV.
By this time the fair Stuart had so increased in his majesty's
favour, that my Lady Castlemaine began to see the indiscretion of
which she had been guilty in bringing her so constantly into his
presence, and moreover to fear her influence over his fickle
heart. Accordingly she refused to invite the maid of honour to
her apartments, or entertain her at her assemblies. At this the
king became exceedingly wrathful, and told my lady he would not
enter her rooms again unless Miss Stuart was there. Thereon the
charming countess flew into a violent passion, roundly abused his
majesty, called her carriage, and protesting she would never
again enter the palace of Whitehall, drove off in a rage to the
residence of her uncle at Richmond. The monarch had not expected
his words would cause such fury, nor did he desire her departure;
and no sooner had she gone than he began to regret her absence
and long for her return.
Therefore next morning he made pretence of hunting, and turning
his horse's head in the direction of Richmond, called on his
mistress, when he apologized to and made friends with her. She
therefore returned and exercised her old ascendancy over him once
more. It is probable his majesty was the more anxious to pacify
her, from the fact that she was now far advanced in her third
pregnancy; for two months later she gave birth to her second son,
who was baptized Henry Fitzroy, and subsequently created Duke of
Grafton.
And it happened about this time, that the queen, falling ill,
drew near unto death. On Friday, the 14th October, 1663, a fever
took possession of her, when the doctors were summoned, her head
shaven, and pigeons put to her feet. Her illness, however,
rapidly increased, and believing she was about to leave a world
in which her young life had known so much sorrow, she made her
will, put her affairs in order, and received extreme unction.
Upon this the king, mindful of grievous injuries he had done
her, was sorely troubled in his heart, and going to her chamber,
flung himself at the foot of her bed and burst into tears; as the
French ambassador narrates.
It is said women love best men who treat them worst. If this be
so, God, alone who made them knows wherefore; for it is given no
man to understand them in all. Now her majesty proved no
exception to this rule regarding the unreasonableness of her sex
in placing their affections most on those who regard them least;
for she was devoted to the king. Therefore the evidence of his
grief at prospect of her loss touched her deeper than all words
can say, and with much sweetness she sought to soothe and console
him.
She told him she had no desire to live, and no sorrow to die,
save, indeed, that caused by parting from him. She hoped he
would soon wed a consort more worthy of his love than she had
been; one who would contribute more to his happiness and the
satisfaction of the nation than she had. And now they were about
to part, she had two requests to make: that he would never
separate his interests from those of the king her brother, or
cease to protect her distressed nation; and that her body might
be sent back to Portugal and laid in the tomb of her ancestors.
At this the king, yet on his knees beside her, interrupted her
only by his sobs, hearing which she wept likewise; and so
overcome was he by grief that he was obliged to be led from her
room,
The court was saddened by her majesty's illness, for she had won
the goodwill of all by the kindness of her disposition and
gentleness of her manner; the city was likewise afflicted, for
the people thought so good a queen could not fail in time to
reclaim even so erratic a husband; and trade became suddenly
depressed. Crowds gathered by night and by day outside the
palace to learn the most recent change in her majesty's condition
many thinking her death inevitable, because the doctors had
pronounced her recovery impossible. And for days her soul
hovered betwixt two worlds.
On the night of the 19th, a fierce storm raged over England; and
Mr. Pepys, being waked by the roaring of mighty winds, turned to
his wife and said: "I pray God I hear not of the death of any
great person, this wind is so high." And fearing the queen might
have departed, he rose betimes, and took coach to the palace that
he might make inquiries concerning her, but found her majesty was
still living. She was now, however, unconscious; and gave free
voice to the secret sorrow which underlay her life, because she
had not borne children to the king. Had she given him heirs, she
felt assured he would certainly love her as well as he loved his
mistresses; and would feel as proud of her offspring as of those
borne him by other women. But though she had proved capable of
becoming a mother on more than one occasion, it pleased heaven to
leave her childless, to her great grief. Therefore in her
delirium, desires shaped themselves to realities, and she
believed she had given birth to three children, two boys and a
girl. The latter she fancied much resembled the king, but she
was troubled that one of the boys was plain featured. And seeing
her grief at this, his majesty, who stood by, sought in pity to
console her, saying the boy was indeed pretty; at which she
brightened visibly, and answering him said: "Nay, if it be like
you, it is a fine boy indeed, and I would be very well pleased
with it." This delusion continued through her illness, and so
strongly did it force itself upon her mind, that one morning when
she was on her way to recovery, on waking suddenly and seeing the
doctor bending over her, she exclaimed, "How do the children?"
Now all this time, whilst the shadow of death lay upon the
palace, and laughter and music were no longer heard within its
walls, there was one of its inmates who pondered much upon the
great fortune which the future might have in keeping for her.
This was fair Frances Stuart, who, not having yielded to the
king's request by becoming his mistress, now entertained high
hopes of being made his wife. In this dream she was, moreover,
flattered by an unusual deference and high respect paid her by
the court since the beginning of her majesty's illness. The king
continued his attentions to her; for though he had proved himself
"fondly disconsolate" and wept sorely for her majesty, he never
during her sickness omitted an opportunity of conversing with
Miss Stuart, or neglected supping with Lady Castlemaine. But the
hopes entertained by the maid of honour were speedily overthrown,
for contrary to all expectation the queen recovered, and was so
well on the 10th November as to "bespeak herself a new gowne"
And so the court remained unchanged, and life went on as before;
the queen growing gradually stronger, the king making love to
Miss Stuart by day, and visiting Lady Castlemaine by night. And
it happened one evening when he went to sup with the latter there
was a chine of beef to roast, and no fire to cook it because the
Thames had flooded the kitchen. Hearing which, the countess
called out to the cook, "Zounds, you must set the house on fire
but it shall he roasted!" And roasted it was.
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