I was surprised and a little troubled by her answer.
‘I want to be a working girl like my mother and my friends… I’m ready to start now because I know there are men already asking for me, but Veronica says I must wait until I am fourteen.’
Our chaperone was listening to our every word, smiling and nodding like a pet dog, but eventually he became bored and realising we were not a security risk, stood by the summerhouse door watching a couple of magpies picking holes in the lawn, searching for crane-fly larvae.
It must have been almost five in the afternoon when he said, ‘It’s getting late, and I have to make sure you are all away from here before nightfall, so we had better go back now inside.’
We walked slowly back to the palace, Elizabeth holding firmly to my hand.
Thomas had spent the whole afternoon with Veronica, probably talking about me, and as we were about to leave I watched him kiss her hand. She looked a little embarrassed and smiled sweetly at him.
‘Will we see you again?’ she asked.
‘Unlikely I am afraid my dear… but I will write to you.’
Veronica then took me in her arms and whispered, ‘I do so miss you Toby. Please take care of yourself. And try to come again if you can.’
They were then ushered quickly away to the waiting wherry.
With Thomas by my side, I watched them move slowly across the river, and I confess that I too found it hard not to shed tears.
‘You said you were going to write to Veronica, you do know she can’t read don’t you?’
‘That’s where you are wrong my boy, Reverend Mills has been teaching her, and it is to him that I will be sending the letters. He will also be there to help with any words she does not understand. Now come along Toby, let’s see if your chess has improved since last we played.’
***
At breakfast we were told that the young prince had spent the night at Hampton Court, and was expected to arrive at Greenwich sometime in the afternoon. We were later informed that the Royal Barge had just passed London Bridge and should be here within the hour. Thomas and I decided to wait by the river… sheltering from the drizzly rain on a bench beneath a giant larch.
‘What did you talk to Veronica about all that time?’ I asked.
‘Most of the time was taken up talking about her concern for your wellbeing, your education, and your health, but she also wanted to know more about Jersey and our escape from England.’
‘How did she find out about that?’ I asked.
‘Apparently it was common knowledge. Seemingly there was widespread celebrations when the news of our escape from England was released.’
‘What did you tell her?’
‘As little as possible… but she’s no fool.’
Eventually the Royal Barge moved slowly into view propelled by two banks of oarsmen, all dressed in the same livery.
In spite of the weather, I thought it was indeed a splendid sight to see. Prince Henry sitting under a protective parasol with two former ladies from the court of the former King Charles standing behind him. He was escorted by a dozen men-at-arms, and an officer from Cromwell’s Parliamentary army who stood tall in the prow of the barge.
The officer was the first to step ashore, handing the mooring rope to a member of Greenwich household staff as he did.
I could not remember ever having met him, but I knew instinctively by the way he was staring at me that the officer was Richard Leeson. Thomas glanced at me and I knew by the look in his eyes that he too was thinking exactly the same.
Although we had never met him, the profile I had always carried in my mind was that of a young seasoned warrior, an experienced soldier, bronzed by the sun, tall and muscular with broad shoulders.
The truth was quite the reverse… he was no more than five foot ten inches tall, quite slim and probably nearer to forty than thirty years old.
‘Are you the traitor Leeson?’ I asked.
He laughed and walked towards me until he was no more than a few inches away, but I was not moving, I stood my ground. ‘How perceptive of you Master Toby. I am Commander Leeson but no traitor.’
Thomas moved forward and stood by my side.
‘Tell me Commander, what possible reason can you have for wanting to kill this boy?’
‘Perhaps Thomas Hudson… it’s because he saved the life of King Charles when he was the Prince of Wales. Or perhaps it’s because I don’t think the whelp of a whore should be a courtier in the Royal Household. Or perhaps it’s just because I don’t like the look of his face.’
‘And what of me Commander, do you not like my face? Am I also on your list of potential victims?’
‘You are of little consequence Hudson, but I have taken a dislike to you because you have educated someone who should be shovelling shit underground with the rats… not learning to read and write.’
‘Who is your paymaster Leeson?’
‘Oliver Cromwell is the only man alive who gives me orders.’
‘Cromwell will not always rule England, there will come a day when sanity is restored to this land and Charles Stuart sits on the throne where he belongs. When that day comes I will see you hung, drawn and quartered for treason.’
Leeson threw back his head and laughed… then his mood changed.
‘Are you ready to receive the royal brat?’
‘We are ready to receive Prince Henry, Duke of Gloucester.’
‘I’ll get him for you, and then I suggest you leave immediately. Just be thankful that on this visit my hands are tied. But if either of you ever return to England I will personally put you both to the sword. Now go back to your hovel on the continent and stay there.’
He stepped back onto the barge, a moment later returning with the young prince’s trunk which he threw onto the ground. Henry was about to pick it up but I got to it first.
‘I will take that for you sir.’
Henry didn’t know who I was, I would not have expected him to, but he did remember Thomas.
‘Mr Hudson, I had hoped my mother would send you, but I half expected you to be accompanied by a priest.’
‘No priest Henry, just me and Toby,’ he said pointing to me.
‘Are you the Toby who saved my brother’s life?’
‘I just happened to be in the right place at the right time.’
‘We must leave right away,’ said the master of the Sainte Anne, ‘or we will miss the tide.’
Thomas with a hand on the prince’s shoulder, guided him onto the French frigate. I followed on behind carrying his trunk.
The Royal Barge had already turned around, and was moving out into the deeper water ready for the return voyage to Windsor. Commander Leeson standing in the stern, still staring at us.
I was the last to step on board the French ship, the mooring lines already released, the sails unfurled, and our precious cargo now relaxing in the master’s stateroom.
It was raining heavier now, but even a storm would not have stopped me taking a last look across the river before leaving England… perhaps for the last time.
What I did not expect to see opposite Greenwich Palace was George and Veronica with all her ladies excitedly waving flags. I waved back, and when they saw me the girls began to jump up and down, apparently completely oblivious to the rain.
I stayed on deck until they were all completely out of sight before joining Thomas and Henry in the warmth of the captain’s stateroom.
The wind was increasing in strength and the rain was lashing against the side of the ship. I was feeling happy and content to just sit and to listen to Thomas questioning young Henry, but the prince seemed to be more interested in me, and my adventures.
‘Are you a catholic?’ was the first thing he asked.
‘No sir, a protestant. Why do you ask?’
‘I thought my mother
would send a priest to try to convert me to Catholicism. By the way, I would prefer to be called Henry, not sir… especially in private if you don’t mind Toby.’
‘Not at all, I was unsure how I should address you.’
I wanted to move the conversation away from me, so I asked how he was treated by Cromwell.
‘Always with respect, but only because he wanted me to accept the throne of England. I of course refused as my father was adamant that I should never be king while Charles and James were alive.’
‘The Dutch sea captain who brought us across the channel to freedom told us you had refused Cromwell, and I cannot tell you how delighted Charles and James were to hear of it.’
‘Who suggested you come with Mr Hudson to collect me?’
‘Your mother. Dowager Queen Henrietta asked me personally. Maybe because we are a similar age.’
‘Well I am glad she did.’
We talked for hours, Henry wanting to know what happened to us after the Battle of Worcester, and me curious about his life in captivity. He told me of his grief at the murder of his father, and then the pain and sorrow of losing his little sister Elizabeth… about his time as a prisoner in the white tower, and the relief when he was moved to more pleasant accommodation. But always he came back to his faith as a protestant and his antipathy towards Catholicism. I personally could not understand his problem, we were all Christians. Though I dare not say so.
Thomas tried to get involved in the conversation, but he was the wrong generation, eventually giving up, he excused himself and retired to his bed.
By the time we passed into the open water of the North Sea, the rain was much heavier, the waves were crashing against the side of the ship, and the wind was stronger.
Henry, not being used to sailing, was beginning to look decidedly unwell. So I suggested he take to his bed, and he was only too willing to take my advice.
‘You will feel better lying down, but just in case you feel sick, here’s a bucket,’ I said as I placed it upside down within his reach. I then returned to my own bed and lay on my back thinking about Leeson and what he said. None of which made any sense.
Poor Henry was in a sorry state when we found him in the morning. He had been sick in the bucket but during the night it had fallen over, spilling its contents all over the floor of his stateroom, there was also sick in his bed and on his clothing.
The ship’s master organised the scrubbing of his stateroom while I helped Henry find a suitable change of clothing, I then took him to the galley where Thomas was waiting with hot coffee, cheese, ham and freshly baked bread. He said he couldn’t eat a thing but Thomas insisted he eat a little.
During the night the wind and rain had abated but the sea was still just as rough, and we still had a fair way to travel before reaching the French port of Calais.
I stayed with Henry all day, never once leaving his side; he was not sick again but wanted only to stay on his bed.
The ship’s captain was reluctant to allow Henry back into his stateroom at first, because despite all the scrubbing he couldn’t rid the place of the foul smell of sick.
‘Are you really so stupid as to refuse to carry out the orders of your superiors, and are you really going to refuse Queen Henrietta’s son from entering your cabin?’ Thomas asked the captain.
That was enough for him to grudgingly capitulate.
It was late afternoon before the French coast finally came into view, and it was also the first time I saw the young prince smile.
‘That is the first and last voyage I will ever make,’ he stated.
‘Someday we are all hoping that Charles will sit on the throne of England, and if you want to be there with him you will have to sail again… or swim,’ said I.
‘Then I think I must learn to swim,’ he said to which we both laughed.
‘If you insist on swimming I fear your mother will order me to swim with you, and even I could not swim that far.’
***
King Charles was on the quayside at Calais, waiting for us to disembark, and was the first to greet his younger brother who for the last half hour or so had been on the quarterdeck waving excitedly. There followed a warm and tearful reunion, the younger sibling clinging lovingly to his hero brother.
Eventually with a protective arm around his shoulder, Charles guided Henry first to Thomas, and then me, thanking us both personally for delivering him back to the safety of his family. But for how long I wondered?
‘When you are ready,’ said Thomas, ‘your mother has arranged transport and her personal guards to escort us all to Paris.’
‘I really cannot face two days on the road after being so sick Mr Hudson,’ he pleaded. ‘Can we not spend just one night here in Calais? It would be nice if I could visit the local cathedral and give thanks to God for my deliverance.’
The captain of the Sainte Anne was anxious to return to Le Havre where the rest of his fleet lay at anchor, and he could not hide his displeasure when told that his passengers were to spend another night on the ship. However, not wanting to risk crossing swords with Thomas again, he reluctantly agreed. We didn’t see him again after that.
Early the following morning, clean, fed and refreshed, we were ready to start our journey to Paris. It was the last week of January, 1653, and the rain clouds of the previous days had now all cleared away to be replaced by clear blue skies, but it was also much colder, cold enough to freeze water and to cover the fields and rooftops with frost.
Queen Henrietta’s personal coach and guards were waiting, the horses shuffling their hooves and whinnying anxious to be on the move, the only other sound at that time in the morning was the screeching of seagulls as they followed a convoy of fishing boats back into the harbour.
We set off at a gallop… a speed I thought unlikely we would be able to maintain. Charles, Henry, Thomas and myself in the relative comfort of a coach with plenty of blankets to keep out the cold.
‘See anything of our old friend Leeson?’ asked Charles jokingly.
His jovial mood changed when Thomas replied, ‘Indeed we did.’
‘Truly. You actually saw him?’
‘Leeson stage-managed a meeting to warn us both never to return to England on the threat of death if we ever do.’
‘Who is this man?’ asked Henry.
‘A traitor and murderer who deserted my army to join Oliver Cromwell. But mark my words, his name will be at the top of my list of conspirators to hang when I claim my rightful place on the English throne.’
Little was spoken of Leeson after that… but just bringing his name into the conversation in the first place certainly dampened the mood, especially in the early part of the journey.
We made only one stop on the first day, it was at a tavern close to a coppice of naked trees, stripped of their summer foliage and looking pitiful and dead. From there we continued to our overnight break in the city of Amiens, arriving early in the evening to be greeted by the local bishop. He invited us to spend the night in his palace… but not before insisting we take a tour of his Cathedral, Our Lady of Amiens. ‘Basilique Cathédrale Notre-Dame d’Amiens.’
The following day, after an early breakfast, we continued on our journey south, arriving in Paris late in the afternoon just before dark.
I always felt uncomfortable at family reunions, especially other people’s, but this time was different. After a few minutes with Henry, Queen Henrietta beckoned to me to join her. As I approached she offered her hand which I kissed as I had been taught to do. Then speaking in English she said: ‘Do sit beside me Master Toby.’
I thought she looked smaller than the last time we met, then I realised it was probably because I had grown a little. She smiled at me sweetly, a nice pretty smile, one that I had not seen before, and then for the first time she spoke to me directly, mostly thanking me for agreeing to go to England to accompanying the Du
ke of Gloucester back to France, but also showing a genuine interest in me and my life as a ward in the Royal Household, about my education and my new life in The Hague. Carefully avoiding questions about my family knowing full well that I lived the early part of my life in a brothel.
She made me feel completely at ease, talking for probably half an hour just to me, and in that time my opinion of her completely changed… she was never patronising nor condescending only genuinely friendly, smiling sweetly, asking questions and listening to my answers. After a while she invited Thomas and Henry to join us. The friendly light-hearted talk continuing well into the evening.
Shortly before midnight she excused herself. ‘Please forgive me gentlemen, this hour is late for me and I must retire to my bed.’ She kissed her sons and moved towards the door, touching my arm as she passed. ‘I have a present for you Master Toby, I will give it to you in the morning. Goodnight and God bless.’ Then she was gone, with her maids following in formation behind her.
I was tired myself, but couldn’t sleep for wondering just what sort of a present a queen would give to a lowly servant like me. Eventually I must have drifted off and when I woke my first thoughts were again on my mysterious present. I lay on my back thinking how best to thank her… but until I knew what the present was I could not think of anything that sounded convincing or sensible.
It was still early in the morning, but as I was now fully awake, I dressed and made my way down to the kitchens where I was given food and drink by the friendly kitchen staff, some of whom I had befriended on my previous visit.
Now at a loose end, I did what I always do when bored, I headed for the library… which is where Henry and his mother found me an hour or so later.
‘Good morning Master Toby.’
‘Good morning my Lady,’ I said, bowing my head.
‘Charles tells me you have not got a horse of your own, so I have asked James to choose one for you from my stables,’ she said. ‘Henry will show you the one he selected.’
‘A horse my Lady?’
‘I do hope it is to your liking, if it is not blame James and choose a different one.’
Courtier in the Royal House of Stuart Page 24