God Save the King's Head
1661, Week 17
Well, here we are! Just under a year since our King Charles II was restored to his rightful rulership of an adoring nation, and his coronation has taken place! And did the heavy rain of recent days abate to let the event could proceed in the most wondrous of glories?
Of course it did. Quite literally: there was fair weather for the procession of the King’s going from the Tower to Whitehall on the Monday before his coronation, right until the King in his crown had gone out of the hall after dinner on the Wednesday.
At that point, it fell a-raining and thundering and lightening as I have not seen it do some years – and now many see this as a sign of God’s blessing. Personally I find it a foolery to take too much notice of such things – but let’s not forget that the earth quaked during the coronation of the King’s father…
That said, Charles I forewent a procession because of the Plague. I doubt any royal cavalcade before him was as magnificent as that of his son’s this week. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if such a glorious procession is never seen again.
I made sure to see as much of it as I could, going with Sir William Batten and my Lady Sandwich to Mr Young the Flagmaker’s in Cornhill – right next to the triumphant arch dedicated to my beloved Navy. From there we had an incredible view.
“There was fair weather for the procession of the King – and now many see this as a sign of God’s blessing. Personally I find it a foolery to take too much notice of such things…”
I had primped myself as fine as I could, finally donning the velvet coat I purchased last August. But it is impossible to relate the glory expressed in the clothes of those that rode this day – including my Lord Sandwich. Gold embroidery and diamonds were ordinary among them.
The Knights of the Bath were a brave sight of crimson robes, upstaged only by His Majesty. Then came the Dukes and the Barons, and then I think I saw the Bishops. If I’m right, the fact they were given such a prominent place may mean they will be called to the House of Lords before long…
Lord Monke, whose military might was so instrumental in reseating our King, here rode without a saddle after the King, and led in his hand a spare horse as a sign of his being Maister of the Horse.
“The houses around were hung with carpets, making a brave show – as indeed did many of the ladies at the windows.”
But the King, in a most rich embroidered suit and cloak, looked the most noble. Both he and his brother, the Duke of York, took notice of us as they saw us at the window. How blessed we felt!
A fine company of soldiers followed next, all young comely men in white doublets, and another dressed all like Turks (I know not yet what they are for).
The houses around were hung with carpets, making a brave show – as indeed did many of the ladies at the windows. But the show was so glorious with gold and silver that we were barely able to look at it.
Could anything have been more special?
The coronation of course!
Determined to get the best view, I was up about 4 in the morning, and rushed to Westminster Abbey. With the favour of one Mr Cooper, an assistant to the Surveyor-General of the King’s Works, I got up into a great scaffold across the north end.
And there I waited till the King came in – at 11. Such a pleasure it was to see the Abbey raised in the middle, all covered with red, and a kind of chair they call a throne. Officers of all kinds were decked in red, including the very fiddlers!
“As I wandered round the Abbey, I had the chance to marvel at the fine hangings and scaffolds all the way. Many were full of ladies just as fine – including my wife…”
The Dean and Bishops arrived in capes of gold, and after them the nobility – all in their Parliament robes, which was a most magnificent sight. Then the Duke and the King, the latter followed by my Lord Sandwich who carried his sceptre.
Ah, my Lord and cousin – what fabulous fate has befallen him! As Master of the Great Wardrobe, he is responsible for much of the King’s splendour. My Lord’s own clothes cost more than half the wealth I own. I am privileged to be both related to him and in the position of his man.
Even before he took the crown, the King’s head was very fine (no doubt helped by the lack of rain!). But once the ceremonies began, most of the Abbey could not see – not even I in my high place.
We only knew the crown was on his head when a great shout began. Then he came forth to the throne to take his oath, receiving blessings from Bishop Sheldon of London, and surrounded by his Lords – who had each donned their caps to mirror his Majesty’s crown!
“In the end, the need to piss drew me away before the ceremonies were all finished..”
Three times, Sir Edward Walker, the King of Arms, went to the three open places on the scaffold and proclaimed that if any one could show any reason why Charles Stuart should not be King of England, he should come and speak.
No-one spoke. I’m not surprised. I later saw Dymock, the King’s Champion, all in armour on horseback, who was to fight with any who dared challenge His Majesty’s place as the lawful King of England…
Towards the end, Lord Cornwallis flung special coronation medals of silver all around the Abbey – but in my place, I could not come by any. And there was so great a noise, I could make little of the music.
In the end, the need to piss drew me away before the ceremonies were all finished. But as I wandered round the Abbey, I had the chance to marvel at the fine hangings and scaffolds all the way. Many were full of ladies just as fine – including my wife.
“I found my wife with the beautiful Mrs Frankelyn, and I kissed them both.”
I stayed near her until the King came through with all those who were in the cavalcade, and a most pleasant sight it was. The King bore his crown and his sceptre under a canopy held up by six silver staves, carried by Barons of the Cinqueports, little bells at every end.
At the far end, they sat at tables for a meal carried up by the Knights of the Bath. There the ceremonies continued – including Lord Albemarle going to the kitchen to eat a bit of the first dish that was to go to the King’s table!
I took a great deal of pleasure going up and down and looking upon the ladies, hearing the music (above all, the 24 violins), and feasting upon the rabbits and pullet from the Lords’ table shared with us by my Lord (though we ate at a nearby stall).
By 6, the meal was over. The royal entourage departed, then those raucous rains came, and from there the day was sheer revelry – and disorder. For example, the Barons returned from their table to their canopy, only to find it had been commandeered by the footmen!
“We drank the King’s health so many times that, eventually, one gentleman fell down stark drunk and just lay there spewing. Then another…”
Lord Albemarle dealt with it, apparently, having the footmen arrested. I doubt they’ll still have their jobs next week, if indeed they have their lives…
I found my wife with the beautiful Mrs Frankelyn, and I kissed them both. Together we went to our old neighbours, the Hunts of Axe Yard. The fireworks were called off because of the weather, of course, but the city had a light like a glory about it from all the bonfires. Oh, how beautiful London looks in the glow of flames! Dare I wish to see such a sight again one day?
I encouraged my wife and her pretty friend to lie together that night – which they both eagerly agreed to. As we travelled through the city, a great many men and women accosted us, and urged us to drink the King’s health – while kneeling on fagots.
This we all did, albeit a strange frolic! And oh, how the ladies did tipple…
“After all this, I can say I never need rush to see any future stately show for fear of missing out.”
Alas, I did not stay with my wife and her bedfellow. Instead, I went to the house of Mr Thornbury, yeoman of the King’s wine cellar – and there, with him, his wife, his sisters, and several others, we drank the King’s health so many times that, eventually, one gentleman fell down stark drunk and just lay there spewing. Then another. Then another…
I left for my Lord’s pretty well, feeling that the day had ended with joy everywhere. When I awoke, though, I found myself wet with my own spewing, and my head in a sad taking. Mr Creed took me out for a morning draught and some chocolate to settle my stomach.
Still. After all this, I can say I never need rush to see any future stately show for fear of missing out. I am sure never to see the like again in this world.
In return for these words of mine, please pay just one word of yours. What event has, for you, been the best you’ve ever seen?
Speak with you again soon – and may the Lord bless you and keep you till then!
"What event has, for you, been the best you’ve ever seen?"
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