The Remarkable Life and Times of Eliza Rose

by Mary Hooper

  ‘But all those cures! There must be something to try for Susan.’

  Nell shook her head. ‘Not now,’ she said. ‘I’ll tell you another time what’s to be done about Susan, but now we are here for a purge. Go on reading, do …’

  ‘An incomparable medicine which speedily, safely and infallibly cures all sorts and degrees of melancholic passions …’

  ‘A powder which disperseth all female distempers …’

  ‘A useful wax which takes away itching so violent that it causes persons to scratch until their skin is striped like tigers … ’

  At last Eliza read out a bill which promised, among other things, that Doctor Vernantes’s powder would ‘Cause a purging of the stomach when the bowels have not been proficient for several days.’

  Nell nodded towards it. ‘That’s it!’ she said. ‘That’s what I want.’

  Doctor Vernantes bowed low before them. He was wearing a royal-blue wool coat which had once been grand, but was now threadbare and had its buttons hanging by strings. He smiled at them with a quantity of ill-fitting false teeth, which Nell said later certainly came from a cow.

  ‘Ladies!’ he said. ‘Great ladies, both!’

  Eliza bobbed a curtsy but Nell didn’t.

  ‘Do you wish a private consultation with me?’ he asked. ‘I’ve a house by the postern gate in Little Tower Hill where the quality may park their coaches and not be seen. I treat ladies for all distempers and can bring down their courses when that time of the month has passed and –’

  Nell held up her hand. ‘Please,’ she said, ‘I only wish for your stomach powder. I’ve not been regular this past two weeks and would have a purge.’

  ‘My special elixir will preserve the fineness and delicateness of your skin so that you keep your beauty till you are seventy years of age and beyond!’

  ‘Thank you kindly and I’ll let you know,’ Nell said. ‘But for now, just the purging powder, please.’

  Chapter Fourteen

  ‘I think we look very handsome,’ Eliza said to Jemima as they approached Swan Steps on the Thames. ‘Although neither of us looks quite as dashing as Mistress Gwyn.’

  ‘Master Gwyn, if you please,’ Nell said, giving a sweeping bow to her two companions.

  The three girls were attired as boys and wearing dark velvet doublets slashed with gold, short breeches and velvet-lined capes. The breeches worn by Eliza and Jemima were quite modest, but Nell’s were cut daringly high to show as much of her shapely legs and silken hose as possible. Each girl carried sword and scabbard, and wore a plumed hat with a curled brim.

  On reaching Swan Steps, Nell put her fingers to her mouth and gave a piercing whistle for a boat. Foxhall Garden, being on the Southwarke side of the river, could only be reached by water.

  It was a while before a craft came across to them, for the Thames that fine evening was as busy as any street and it seemed that most of London’s quality were upon the water already: some picnicking and accompanied by musicians or singers. When, however, Nell called to an approaching waterdog and he realised that the three youths waiting at Swan Steps were, in fact, three pretty wenches showing a lot of leg, his intended passenger was ignored and he rowed swiftly towards the girls. A price was settled and he helped them on board.

  ‘Do you think my darling William will be there?’ Jemima asked Eliza eagerly as they settled themselves down.

  ‘Nell said she thought so,’ Eliza replied. What Nell had actually said was that William would be there for certain, ‘possibly drunk, probably with a whore’ but of course she didn’t repeat this. Eliza, fearfully excited at the evening ahead – for although she’d heard much about such places of entertainment, she’d never thought she would visit one – had already been speculating about the events on her own account. Her first thought had been about Valentine Howard: was he going to be there and, if so, would he speak with her? Her second was altogether wilder and, she knew, quite absurd, but, since she’d been disowned by her father and because Nell often spoke of the king’s many and varied natural children, she sometimes allowed herself to speculate that she might possibly be a child of the king.

  No, she chided herself, it was just too nonsensical.

  But the king was very dark and tall, as she was, and everyone knew that when he’d been young and on the run from Cromwell he’d spent time in Somersetshire. So wouldn’t it be an astounding thing if she discovered that he had green eyes?

  Foxhall Garden was a short trip along the river and before Eliza could see their destination she could hear music, singing and laughter coming across the water towards them. On arriving at the wooden pier Nell paid the waterdog and they jumped ashore, smiling to each other, knowing that if they’d been attending as girls they would have been lifted carefully by the attendants from boat to pier as if they’d been made of porcelain. Eliza found some elements of being dressed like a man rather tricky, however, for her sword was long and ungainly and would keep twisting itself around her leg as if trying to trip her up.

  Nell led the way through the trees. She had, she told them, been to Foxhall before, and Jemima had attended outdoor balls at home, but this was the first time that Eliza had ever been to such a place and she couldn’t help but gasp and stare around her – so much so that Nell had to beg her to remember she was in costume.

  ‘You’re supposed to be a young court gallant, not some Tom-pudding just off the coach from Devonshire!’ she hissed.

  But Eliza wouldn’t be quietened. ‘Oh, but ’tis all so amazing and done most excellently,’ she continued to exclaim as they passed arbours of trees lit with candles, mossy grottos, sparkling fountains and little wooden eating places hung with lanterns. ‘I’ve never seen anything so pretty.’

  In an open glade, people were dancing to a fiddler’s tune, and in another a small group of musicians was playing to people seated on the grass. The flowerbeds contained pink and white blooms hedged around with purple lavender, and there was even, Eliza was amused to see, a cow being led around by a milkmaid who was calling that she would milk it there and then and provide a jug of milk as refreshment for the revellers.

  ‘See, Eliza, there’s a cow,’ Nell said, pointing. ‘So it’s not so different from your home!’

  ‘Oh, it is,’ Eliza said, laughing, ‘for this cow has a white skin and is scrubbed clean. Besides, the cows in Somersetshire don’t have flowers around their necks nor wear straw hats!’

  Quickly surveying the whole place, they ascertained where the king was, for a silken awning had been erected and he and a group of his courtiers were within this, beside a small lake on which floated strange boats which Nell said had been sent from Venice. Eliza, eagerly looking in the tent for the king, could see a tall, well-shaped man with an assortment of little dogs playing at his feet and Nell confirmed that this was he.

  Mary Davis was sitting with some other girls on a low branch of a tree to one side of this courtly arrangement, and Nell approached her with much friendliness and affability, bowing low, flourishing her plumed hat and saying she was sorry to be rather late and she hoped she hadn’t missed anything.

  Mary, not recognising her at first and taking her for a gallant, returned the greeting with a curtsy, but some laughter from Eliza and Jemima prompted her to look more closely at the young man and discover who it really was. In view of the proximity of the king she must have thought it best to pretend friendship, however, and Nell and she made a show of kissing each other with delight.

  Eliza, although fascinated by this little play-act, moved to a spot where she could see the king in greater detail, and now had eyes for no one else. She thought his face very like his portraits, although he wasn’t handsome by any means, but striking, with coal-black hair, an aquiline nose and long moustaches. Disappointingly – although she wasn’t close enough to see the colour of his eyes – there didn’t appear to be any clear resemblance between His Majesty and herself, however. The king had one arm around his son’s shoulders – for she knew Monmouth from Nel
l’s description – and was surrounded by a pack of brown and white spaniels, and the group of friends Nell had referred to as his gang of wits. Among these she spotted William Wilkes, Henry Monteagle and then Valentine Howard, and she felt herself blushing.

  But she wasn’t going to let Valentine see that he affected her in any way. Adjusting her sword slightly, she stared around her, adopted what she hoped was a manly pose and waited to see what was going to happen next.

  Nell was still a little way off, talking animatedly to Mary. Eliza saw her pause for breath, then take a sip of Mary’s drink and call for some of the same. Almost immediately a tray holding golden goblets of wine came around and was passed among the company. When the tray reached her, Eliza took a goblet and sipped its contents cautiously, for she had heard much of the effects of strong wine and didn’t wish to fall unconscious – for that, apparently, could happen if one was unused to it – and miss the evening’s entertainment.

  Her eyes still on the king, she felt Jemima, beside her, give a start.

  ‘I think William’s recognised me!’ she said, and she gave a bow in his direction. A moment later William came over. He had recognised her and wasn’t pleased to have her there.

  ‘May I remind you, madam, you’re supposed to be in hiding,’ he said in a low voice, neglecting to make a formal greeting to either her or Eliza.

  ‘Darling William,’ Jemima’s voice trembled. ‘I thought you’d be pleased to see me.’

  ‘Well, I’m not.’

  ‘But we are here in disguise,’ said Jemima.

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ he snapped. ‘A child of two can see that you’re not men. Unless you want to incur my wrath, madam, you’ll cease this silly play-acting and go home immediately.’

  ‘But William –’ Jemima started.

  William took Jemima’s elbow. ‘My dear,’ he said, and Eliza could see that his jaw was set and his lips tight. ‘I’m only being harsh on you because I don’t want our love for each other jeopardised. If your family find out where you are, your father will have you kidnapped and me killed. Is that what you want?’

  Jemima shook her head. ‘No! No, of course not. Darling William, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think.’

  ‘You must go home now. Back to your lodgings.’

  ‘But when will I see you? I’ve not set eyes on you this past week!’

  ‘I’ll send word soon,’ William said, and Eliza noticed that his eyes were sliding past Jemima towards where two girls dressed as milkmaids were dancing. ‘You must be more patient, my sweeting.’

  A boat was called for and Jemima, looking desperately sorry for herself, went away. Her sweetheart, Eliza noticed, didn’t go with her to the pier at the river’s edge, saying it was best if they were not seen together.

  Seeing Eliza now standing alone, Nell beckoned for her to come over to where she and Mary were gossiping with some players from the Duke’s Theatre. The talk was light and superficial, with no one taking much interest in what anyone was saying, for the attention of everyone was fixed upon the king and they were watching every move, every glance, every gesture he made.

  Nell, still playing the gallant, put a loose arm around Eliza’s shoulders and clinked their wine goblets together. ‘Keep your eye on Mary Davis,’ she hissed in her ear. ‘She may, unfortunately, have to leave us very soon.’

  Eliza gave a start, for she’d almost forgotten the powder which Nell had purchased from the quack doctor. Just a few moments after this, however, Mary Davis gave a little groan and clutched at her stomach.

  ‘My dear, are you ailing?’ Nell asked solicitously. ‘Have you had too much wine?’

  Mary shook her head wordlessly.

  ‘Let me send for some water,’ Nell said with pretend alarm. ‘You have gone very pale.’

  ‘No. No, I shall be …’ She gave a strangled cry. ‘I fear I must take my leave,’ she said urgently.

  Nell signalled to one of the girls standing nearby. ‘Do come and take care of Mistress Davis,’ she said in a low voice, ‘or I fear she will disgrace herself in this fine company.’

  As Mary was led away, groaning, Nell raised her eyebrows at Eliza. ‘I cannot think what she must have consumed.’

  Eliza gazed at her friend with admiration. ‘But how did you get her to take it?’

  ‘Oh, ’twas easy – I pretended to try her drink, and slipped it in then.’ She gazed after Mary with feigned sorrow. ‘Such a pity that she’ll miss the company of the king tonight.’

  ‘Indeed,’ Eliza agreed, stifling her laughter.

  A short period followed during which everyone continued drinking, and the king and his merry gang, Eliza concluded, fully lived up to their reputations. The two milkmaids were caught, rolled down a grassy bank and reduced to dancing in their undersmocks, a fiercesome-looking man without a nose (Nell said it had been cut off in a duel) threw someone else up a tree, and a knave who turned out to be the Earl of Rochester removed all his clothing and ran around the company utterly naked. Finally, a couple disappeared into a tent and were seen entwined there, the shadowplay being thrown by the candlelight leaving little to the imagination.

  Eliza scarcely knew whether to be shocked or amused by all these antics, and finally decided to be a little of each. She was very aware of Valentine Howard nearby and couldn’t help but wonder what he thought of her. If he thought of her at all, that was.

  ‘At last!’ Nell said, after glancing once more to where the king was. ‘Chiffinch is on his way to us.’

  Eliza looked over to see a stout man approaching them, formally dressed in black velvet with gold trimmings. He bowed low and Eliza and Nell bowed back to him, flourishing their hats.

  ‘Mistress Gwyn,’ Chiffinch said smoothly.

  ‘Oh,’ Nell said, pretending to pout. ‘You have seen through my disguise!’

  ‘Not many men have such a figure, madam,’ said Chiffinch.

  Nell nodded graciously at the compliment. ‘And this is my companion, Eliza Rose.’

  Chiffinch gave another short bow but only glanced at Eliza. ‘I’m commanded to say that the king wishes to speak with the ladies of the King’s Company.’

  Eliza felt her heart give an enormous leap. It was enough to be here, see such sights, be in such company – but now actually to meet the King of England …

  ‘Alas, sire,’ said Nell, ‘there are just two of us at present. But Mistress Rose and I will be delighted to attend upon His Majesty.’

  Chiffinch bowed again and Eliza had just enough time to exchange an agonised, excited look with Nell before he began to lead the way towards the king in the silk tent. It was only a short stroll across the grass towards him but Eliza, feeling every eye upon the two of them, felt it to be of an immeasurable length. She was aware that she should be taking manly strides, yet feared being tripped up by her sword – and moreover had neglected to put down the goblet she’d been holding and so was forced to flourish this along with her hat. She began to wish she was in a woman’s garb (and it was mere vanity but how she would have loved having her own long hair) for curtsying came more easily and surely looked more charming.

  Following close behind Nell, she realised that it was customary to stop every few seconds and bow again to His Majesty, and that as you got closer each bow should be deeper than the one before, each flourish of the hat a grander gesture, until, at last, Eliza stood before the king with knee bent, hat touching the floor and body bowed so low she was feared she might overbalance. Terrified into immobility, she was relieved at last to hear manly laughter.

  ‘Do rise, Nelly, for I know it’s you!’ said the king.

  There was a moment’s pause, Eliza heard some girlish giggles from Nell, and then the king called, ‘And you may arise, too, my dear,’ and Eliza finally straightened up and looked into the eyes of the King of England. It was the most thrilling moment in her life, and her only disappointment was that his eyes were brown and not green.

  A little later, Valentine Howard strode up and stood before E
liza, looking amused.

  ‘So is this – what? – your fourth incarnation?’ he asked.

  Eliza bobbed a curtsy and then, remembering her disguise, turned it into a bow. ‘I don’t know what you mean, sire,’ she said, meeting his eyes boldly.

  ‘Tonight you are a young rake. Yesterday you were an orange girl. Before that you were a mermaid, were you not?’

  Eliza dropped her gaze.

  ‘And before that?’

  Eliza drew in her breath sharply. Surely he didn’t …

  ‘Before that, I believe you were staying in one of His Majesty’s finest’ –’

  ‘Please, sire!’ said Eliza, looking around to make sure no one had overheard. ‘No one but Nell knows of my background.’

  ‘It’s all right,’ he said, amused. ‘Your secret is safe.’

  ‘I didn’t think you had … I mean, how can you possibly remember seeing me in Clink?’ Eliza asked.

  There was a pause. ‘Could any fellow forget those green eyes?’ he said, and Eliza, for one brief second, smiled up at him with surprised delight. Swiftly reminding herself, however, that such compliments were merely part of the ritual undertaken by those of the male sex when they were seeking to bed a girl, she took a step backwards.

  ‘That is as maybe, sire,’ she said stiffly. ‘I … I’ve put that time behind me now and don’t wish anyone else to know about it.’

  He smiled at her. ‘And what will you give me for my silence?’

  Eliza felt her face flush. ‘It may surprise you to know, sire, that not all girls are to be bought and sold.’

  To her discomposure he burst out laughing. ‘My apologies. Your servant, madam,’ he said, flourishing his hat and bowing low.

  They were interrupted by Nell, her eyes sparkling and her colour high.

  ‘Eliza, the king wishes me to dance,’ she said breathlessly. ‘Will you accompany me by singing? There are musicians waiting and we’ve some ballad sheets.’

  Eliza gasped. ‘Sing? I … I’ve not practised for some time,’ she stammered.