Hague Memories
1660, Week 20
Thursday 17 May 1660 shall forever remain in my mind as the date I first kissed the hand of an English king. It is said that such an act holds the mystical power to rid the body of all ills, and indeed I feel like a great wickedness has been cast from me:
Try as I might, I can no longer access my childhood memory of watching his father’s head lopped off.
But meeting our monarch was really only the secondmost highlight of a thunderously fabulous week, albeit one with windswept suspense – and an almost tragic end…
It was on Monday morning that some gentlemen came aboard our ship with an invitation for my Lord Montagu, for him to head ashore and kiss the hand of the king’s aunt – that is Elizabeth, now heralded as the Queen of Bohemia.
My Lord would not go, deeming it more essential that he remain at sea to ensure all is ready for His Majesty’s arrival. So he asked for some men to go in his place. I felt obliged to remain and attend to my Lord – but I sent my boy, Eliezer, to go with them. His is a young, curious mind, which plentifully reminds me of mine at his age.
We hadn’t expected them back so soon – noon that same day! Eliezer’s tales of his travels were then so colourful that, when my Lord was invited this time to kiss the hand of the Prince of Orange, I beseeched my Lord to let me go in his stead. How could I miss the opportunity to kiss the hand of a prince who would never be king?
Oh, in case you are unaware of the strange rules of this Dutch principality: here, ‘prince’ is the highest office. So it is that William, now a boy of 9, will still be a prince even should he reach the heroic age of 70. Such could never happen to a prince in England – for sure they would be king by then. Being associated with Orange will always restrict your power within tight boundaries.
To my delight, my Lord enthusiastically granted my request. And so, that very afternoon, I stepped ashore for the first time on a foreign soil.
What a merry land is the Netherlands! Why, in my first Dutch carriage between the shore and the Hague, there were two pretty ladies who were very free with their kisses, and sang with us all the way in both French and Latin.
They set an example which near all other Dutchwomen followed, and mightily merry would any man be with so many mighty temptresses among them. Alas, I didn’t manage to ensnare one for myself, despite spending several nights ashore because of the high winds whipping up the waves, though I met an old chamber friend (from Magdelene College, of all places) who did.
It was those same winds which prevented the king stepping aboard any of our ships this week, and so resulted in my meeting him on Dutch soil. I would describe him as merry of word, though sober of countenance – and while we heard rumour that his purse is light, he appeared to us in splendour. He bestowed plentiful kisses upon young Edward, the son of my Lord, and engaged with me in witty conversation.
I do hope I get to work closely with him in the future. I believe he will go down in history for holding his head high and the country at peace – unlike his father, whose head went down in history after the country fell to pieces…
All the king’s kisses, however, couldn’t save my Lord’s son from the foolishness of James Pierce – though more fool me, I suppose, for leaving the boy with the surgeon on Friday morning. A surgeon called Pierce. Should have been a clue…
I instructed Pierce to keep the boy indoors, safe from the strong winds, while I returned to shore to see if there was yet safe ferrying back to our ships. There was not, so I promptly returned – only to find that Pierce had taken the boy to see the town of Delfe!
We were without word of them for the rest of the day, and most of the next, leaving our small party in considerable fear. Talk abounds of assassination attempts upon the nobility in this area. How could my Lord ever bear it should his son not return? How could I?
Fortunately, Edward was back with us late on Saturday morning, having spent the night with Pierce in Leyden. Suffice it to say, my friendship with Pierce is pierced.
Perhaps the suspense of that experience was heightened, though, by the foremost highlight of this week. On Tuesday, I managed to return to the Naseby for the afternoon, seemingly to the delight of my Lord. We spent the rest of the day getting closer than I believe we have ever done till now.
He told me openly of his views on religion, family, even the king, finally divulging his reasons for switching loyalties from republicans to royalty (though it’s hardly a surprising one: self-preservation). I perceived he did begin to show me much more respect than ever he did before, not just as his man, but also as his cousin.
This may be quite timely, too, since the week began with us spotting a ship bearing my London employer, Mr Downing, hastily back to England. Rumour is that he has become hated by the court…
My purse
Speaking of my employment in London… Over the last few days, I took it upon myself to look over all my financial affairs. After accounting for all my debts (including my preparations for this sea voyage), I found myself with 40l clear in my purse. So from now I shall track this sum in this here blog.
Mehopes you will see my fortunes rise over time…
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