CHAPTER IVTHE MARRIAGE

Itis difficult, nay impossible, now to fix the exact date of the secret, but definite, understanding between the Duke of York and Anne Hyde.

Macpherson places it in 1657. James, he says, “had fallen in love with Anne when the Chancellor and he were on ill terms,”[95]but the probabilities point to the Paris visit already described. This would give a reason for the Prince’s lingering on in the French capital at that time, for he appears then to have been treated by the Court of France with very little consideration, a state of things which he was by no means the person to endure meekly, proud and punctilious as he could show himself to be.[96]

95.Macpherson’s “Original Papers: Life of James II., by himself.”

96.Thurloe Papers.

It was, by the way, then—if at all—that his sister Mary made the secret marriage with the younger Harry Jermyn, formerly a suitor ofNan herself, though the fact of such a union is more than doubtful.[97]

97.“Life of Henrietta Maria.” J. A. Taylor.

However, James himself acknowledges that it was when the Princess and her train came to Paris that he was first attracted to the young maid of honour. He says that she brought “his passion to such an height as between the time he first saw her and the winter before the King’s restoration he resolved to marry none but her, and promised to do it, and though at first when the Duke asked the King his brother for his leave, he refused and diswaded him from it, yet at last he opposed it no more, and the Duke married her privately, owned it some time after, and was ever after a true friend to the Chancellor for several years.”[98]

98.Macpherson’s “Original Papers: Life of James II., by himself.”

We are here given a period between the summer of 1656 and the winter of 1659-1660. As we know that the Duke’s campaigning had taken him away from Paris in the autumn of 1657, the assumption is that some sort of pledge passed between the lovers before this time, and that they had then parted for some years with the knowledge of their jealously guarded secretconfined to themselves alone. No one seems really to have suspected the truth till long afterwards, though there is a despatch dated the 7th or 17th of August 1656 which has been supposed to refer to this love affair, though it is hard to say on what grounds the supposition is founded. The letter is from Ross to Secretary Nicholas.

“In England there is much bustle about choosing Parliament men. Some counties have chosen Bradshaw, Ludlow, Salloway, Harrison and Rich, at which Cromwell is so incensed that he has ordered them to give bail to the majors general of their counties. My wife is going to Dover to get a conveyance to go to the Duke of York. I hear from young Musgrove that Mrs Benson is become ward to a physician who lately applied to the Princess Royal to board with her and one Bronkard who is with her and they are to go with her on her next journey and be spies on the King’s deportment.”[99]

99.“Calendar of Domestic State Papers,” edit. by M. A. Everett-Green.

It is said that “Benson” is cypher for the Duke of York. Query, is Mrs Benson intendedfor Anne Hyde? The date makes this supposition unlikely. Even had there been any inkling of the affair it could scarcely have been so soon, and such a storm of wrath was evoked by the discovery of the contract in 1660 that it is most improbable that any suspicion of it was afloat four years earlier.

Too many people were interested in so vital a question for the secret to have been quite closely kept in such a case. It would have leaked out somehow, a whisper here, a hint there, to ears only too ready to listen to so choice a morsel of scandal, from lips equally ready and eager to retail it. It is at least certain that for long after the Paris visit Anne retained the affection and confidence of the Princess of Orange, and we know that these were rudely shaken by the discovery when it was made.[100]

100.“Lives of Princesses of England.” M. A. Everett-Green.

How the great secret was to be a secret no more, but the property of the world at large, has now to be told.[101]

101.“Continuation of the Life of Edward, Earl of Clarendon,” by himself, ed. 1759.

In some respects it is fairly easy to reconstruct the London of the earlier Stuarts. Here and there one can trace, by the helpof main thoroughfares, the sites of buildings once famous, though now either substantially changed or altogether non-existent. The south side of the Strand in those days was lined with large and stately houses, mansions in the true sense, each with its façade facing the street; and to the rear its shady garden reaching to the river, where the water-gate with its elaborate ironwork and lofty flanking pillars gave access to a flight of steps, where a boat was commonly moored. The Thames was then the chief and favourite highway of the city. Its shining surface was for the most part alive with craft of every description, from the royal barge, gaudy with profuse gilding and silken hangings, to the small boat darting hither and thither, and holding perhaps but a single passenger. Heavy loads would be going slowly down to Greenwich or Gravesend, a boat full of cheerful citizens with violins on board rowing up to Chelsey Reach, a market woman or two with their baskets crossing over from the fields beyond the Tabard on the south side, a Templar embarking at Whitehall stairs to hurry down to Alsatia—it was all a feast of colour and life, such as, in one sense, has passed away from the scene for ever.

One of the great houses occupying such a position was that known as Worcester House.[102]It had been originally a residence of the bishops of Carlisle, and it stood on the site of the present Beaufort Buildings, between the Savoy and Durham Place. At the Reformation it became the property of the Crown, and was granted to the founder of the Bedford family, when it was known as Bedford House, till they removed to the present Southampton Street and built there another Bedford House.

102.Besant, “Survey of London”; Wheatley, “London, Past and Present”; Walford, “Old and New London.”

The house in the Strand then passed to Edward, second Marquess of Worcester, the loyal Cavalier who held his strong castle of Raglan so stoutly for the King, and who is, as well, remembered for his “Century of Inventions” and his numerous scientific experiments. He died in 1667, and his son Henry being created Duke of Beaufort in 1682 gave that name to the block of houses now occupying the site. During the Commonwealth, the house had been used for committees and was furnished by the Parliament for the Scottish Commissioners. At one time Cromwell himself had lived there,[103]but inMay 1657 a Bill was passed to settle it on Margaret, Lady Worcester. The Somersets having regained possession of their house, Lord Worcester, twelve days after the Restoration, offered it rent free to Edward Hyde, who, however, agreed to a lease at five hundred pounds a year, looking on it merely as a temporary house, intending to build for himself; an intention to be fulfilled before much time was past.

103.Sir Henry Craik, “Life of Edward, Lord Clarendon.”

Here for the present, at any rate, the Chancellor, who had accompanied his master on his triumphant return, took up his abode.

The pageant of the Restoration was possessing fully the mind and temper of the people. The streets were daily thronged with eager, excited, jubilant crowds, demonstrating their noisy welcome to the long expatriated King. London was delirious for the time being with the revulsion, and those who had endured years of exile and poverty were not the least happy. Among these might be numbered the Hydes. The Chancellor might certainly be considered to deserve a season of rest and prosperity after so many strenuous years of service, and as soon as the King was at Whitehall, firmly established in the house of his fathers, Hyde had leisure toturn to his own affairs, and forthwith sent off for his daughter Anne. It has been said that the Princess Mary’s suspicions had been already aroused with regard to her brother James and her maid of honour, and that she had therefore dismissed the latter from her service, but if so it does not seem that she imparted such suspicions to any one at that time, for certainly Hyde himself was then completely ignorant of them. He was, as we have seen, a man of strong and tenacious family affections, and for his elder girl he had a deep and enduring love. “She being his eldest child he had more acquaintance with her than with any of his children.”[104]Besides, another question with regard to her was beginning to occupy his mind. Now that public affairs were settling down peaceably in England, he bethought him of finding an honourable establishment for his Nan, and it seems he had “an overture from a noble family.”

104.“Life of Edward, Earl of Clarendon: Continuation,” by himself.

Since the quickly extinguished love affairs at The Hague in 1654-1655 nothing of the kind is recorded, and the Chancellor was fully alive to the advisability of a suitable marriage forthis his elder daughter, who was now twenty-three, a mature age according to the ideas of the time. Back, therefore, to England and to the new home in London, came Anne Hyde, a stranger to her native land since her childhood, to be received by her parents with exceeding joy.

It was, no doubt, to many of the long exiled Cavaliers a summer of hope, destined, in many cases, to be unfulfilled. They looked forward eagerly to the knitting together of ravelled skeins, to the renewal of old ties, of old friendships; to the building up of home in the dear familiar places so long laid waste and desolate.

So Edward Hyde and Frances his wife looked forward fondly to welcoming their Nan, and cherished happy visions of a blithe bridal, of a new relationship, new ties; of children’s children at their knees in God’s good time.

They were keeping open house like their neighbours with lavish hospitality, and perhaps Mistress Anne, in spite of the possession of her momentous secret, and the anxiety inextricable from it, was not averse to the intercourse now opened with the choicest spirits of that English society which was re-forming itself around her.

In the wainscotted rooms of Worcester Housethey were made welcome. Ormonde, tried and trusted, who had watched over the boyhood and shared the exile of his king with selfless devotion; and Southampton, whose memory could go back to the awful night, when he was keeping his vigil by the body of his dead king in St James’s, and the muffled figure of Cromwell stole into the dusky room to look at the calm face of his victim; and Edward Nicholas, the Secretary, of whom it could be said that there was “none more industrious, none more loyal, none less selfish than he.”[105]These with their host could talk over the days of strife and confusion, of rebellion and anarchy, wherein they had played their parts; days past, so all trusted, never to return. Together they could speak with hushed and saddened voices of lost friends and of the master whom they had served so faithfully, yet failed to save. There, too, often came John Evelyn, a friend true and loyal through long years. “This great person,” he says, speaking of Hyde, “had ever been my friend.” He would come by water from his house at Deptford—that Sayes Court near which he was afterwards to discover the young Gibbons at work on his great carving—and so, landing atthe water-gate, would pass through the garden into Worcester House. And there likewise would be Morley, now Dean of Christ Church (who had come back before the Restoration, being sent by Hyde to contradict the report of the King’s apostacy), taking up once more the threads of the close friendship of many years. Perhaps, too, Gilbert Sheldon, who had gone joyfully to meet the returning king at Canterbury—now Dean of the Chapel Royal, but soon to be Bishop of London—was there also, ready for an argument or dispute with Morley, yet both of them united in virtue of long-standing affection for the Chancellor.[106]And among them would be other and younger guests: gallants scented and curled, in lace and satin, playing the courtier to the daughters of the house, Anne and even little Frances, or laughing with their young brothers, or, one of them, singing a dainty madrigal or so to the music of a lute or virginals.

105.“Life of Edward, Lord Clarendon.” Sir Henry Craik.

106.Dictionary of National Biography.

It was to all seeming a happy, sunny time, but suddenly into the midst of the cheerful trifling was flung an announcement which was to prove, with a vengeance, an apple of discord to all whom it could concern.

James, Duke of York, the King’s secondbrother, the heir presumptive to the Crown, and the Chancellor’s elder daughter, Mistress Anne Hyde, were married, and every one, whether remotely interested or no, stood aghast.

When the Duke first spoke to his brother on the subject is doubtful,[107]but according to his own memoir it seems to have been before the Restoration, possibly even at the time of the projected match with Fatima Lambert, though as we have seen he did not openly give it as a reason for his refusal.

107.“Original Papers containing Hist. of Gt. Britain,” arranged by John Macpherson, 1775; extracts from “James II., by himself”: “The King at first refused the Duke of York’s marriage with Mrs Hyde.”

Easy-going as Charles II. was on some points, he was naturally strongly opposed to such a marriage for his brother as one with the Chancellor’s daughter, since no possible advantage could result from it, and later, when he did give his consent, he only reluctantly withdrew his opposition.[108]

108.“Memoirs of the Court of Charles II.” Count Grammont, edit. Sir W. Scott, revised ed. 1846, note 42.

Nevertheless James disregarded the fraternal disapprobation, without at the time confessing the fact, for the marriage on which so much wasto hang took place at Breda on 10th November 1659.

The Princess of Orange and her three brothers were there alternately with Brussels throughout that winter and the early part of the succeeding spring.

Thurloe writes in March 1659-1660: “To-morrow I am parting for Antwerp, whither the princess royal is going, being on her return from Breda. The King of Scots goes with her to Antwerp, and from thence returns specially hither, but both the dukes go through with her to Breda.”[109]It is certain that though Mary was ignorant of the marriage she suspected the existence of some understanding between her brother and the maid of honour before the end of 1659, and on this account made no difficulty of the latter’s retirement from her service.

109.“State Papers of John Thurloe, Esq.”

There is a consensus of evidence as to the date of the marriage. Among others, Lady Fanshawe gives it.[110]She was certainly in Holland at the time and it is possible that she was at Breda itself.

110.“Notes to the Memoirs of Ann, Lady Fanshawe” (Chalmers’ Biographical Dictionary).

Who the witnesses of this union were cannotnow be ascertained, and it may be because of this fact that we are told that James could, if he chose, have had the contract annulled at the time when the storm broke.[111]It has indeed by some writers been termed a contract, only, of marriage, but we shall see later that the validity was fully established.

111.“Royalty Restored.” J. F. Molloy.

At any rate James now went to the King, and on his knees made a clean breast of the affair, confessing the fact of his marriage in defiance of the prohibition of the previous year, and entreating permission for a public ceremony. Charles was, we are told, “greatly troubled with his Brother’s Passion,” “which was expressed in a very wonderful manner and with many tears, protesting that if his Majesty should not give his consent, he would immediately leave the Kingdom, and must spend his life in foreign parts.”[112]

112.“Life of Edward, Earl of Clarendon: Continuation,” by himself.

The King, as might be expected, was greatly dismayed and perplexed, as the situation offered serious complications. He does not appear to have shown then, nor later, much positive anger with his brother, but he was far-seeing enoughto fear the difficulties that would probably arise from this unwelcome alliance, which might very well prove a terrible stumbling-block in his way.

James meanwhile was vehement and determined. As to his threat of self-expatriation, that was of course not to be thought of for a moment, and the King in his perturbation sent for the Chancellor.

Probably Charles’ first feelings with regard to Hyde were those of strong irritation, as it might easily transpire that the latter from motives of ambition had, if not assisted, at least countenanced the match.

However those old and tried friends, Ormonde, the new Lord Steward, and Southampton, now Lord High Treasurer, were deputed to see and confer with him first, before his interview with the King himself.

Hyde’s outburst of wrath and bitter grief on being told the news[113]satisfied all parties thatthere was no collusion on his part, and when Charles himself came into the room, he was softened by the father’s evident distress, and spoke gently and kindly to his old servant.

113.“The Chancellor knew nothing of the Duke of York’s marrying his daughter” (Macpherson Papers).“Nobody was so surprised and confounded as the Chancellor himself, who, being of a nature free from jealousy, and very confident of an entire affection and obedience from all his children, and particularly from that daughter whom he had always loved dearly, never had in the least degree suspected any such thing, though he knew afterwards that the Duke’s affection and kindness had been much spoken of beyond the seas, but without the least suspicion in anybody that it could ever tend to marriage” (“Life of Edward, Earl of Clarendon: Continuation,” by himself).

113.“The Chancellor knew nothing of the Duke of York’s marrying his daughter” (Macpherson Papers).

“Nobody was so surprised and confounded as the Chancellor himself, who, being of a nature free from jealousy, and very confident of an entire affection and obedience from all his children, and particularly from that daughter whom he had always loved dearly, never had in the least degree suspected any such thing, though he knew afterwards that the Duke’s affection and kindness had been much spoken of beyond the seas, but without the least suspicion in anybody that it could ever tend to marriage” (“Life of Edward, Earl of Clarendon: Continuation,” by himself).

The Duke of York himself next made his appearance, but possibly the King, wishing to avoid a scene, or not thinking the moment a propitious one for his brother to attempt any justification, took the latter away with him, leaving Hyde for the present with his friends, who for their part did their best to console him. They for one thing strenuously upheld the fact of the marriage, of which the Chancellor, in his pain and bewilderment, was at first doubtful, and indeed urged every ground of comfort. For the time being, however, the angry father would listen to no argument nor representation. Hurrying home he ordered his daughter into close confinement, in the high-handed fashion which parents in those days were in the habit of employing. He really seems, moreover—the grave, sedate, well-balanced Chancellor—to have taken leave of his senses, for he evenseriously suggested sending the culprit to the Tower, not to mention the extreme measure of cutting off her head. Southampton, in his dismay at his old friend’s frenzy, had told the King that it must be madness in some form,[114]saying that “His Majesty must consult with soberer men, that He” (pointing to the Chancellor) “was mad, and had proposed such extravagant things that he was no more to be consulted.” However, without any question of Tower or block, Mistress Anne was locked up in her father’s house, and apparently was destined to remain in durance. Finding the rigorous treatment which, as it was, Hyde chose to adopt, the King again sent for him, and taking him to task for his harshness, interceded for the offending daughter. The Chancellor, however subservient he could be, was not to be coerced on such a point, and stood firm. He answered proudly, that “her not having discharged the duty of a daughter ought not to deprive him of the Authority of a Father, and therefore he must humbly beg His Majesty notto interpose his commands against his doing anything that his own dignity required; that He only expected what His Majesty would do upon the Advice He had humbly offered to him, and when He saw that He would himself proceed as He was sure would become him.” Charles, for his part, accepted this snub direct with perfect docility, but the plot was destined to thicken quickly, and neither of them could, as it turned out, prevent the march of events, nor sever the offending pair.

114.“The behaviour of Lord Clarendon on this occasion was so extraordinary that no credit could have been given to any other account than his own” (Hallam’s “Constitutional History”).

In spite of her father’s vigilance, the Duke of York found means to visit his wife during her incarceration, by the connivance of her maid, Ellen Stroud, who had been a confidante from the beginning.[115]Clarendon in his own Memoir uses the words: “By the administration of those who were not suspected by him, and who had the excuse that they ‘knew that they were married.’” One other accomplice there seems to have been.[116]It is almost certain thatthe girl’s mother was in the plot, though how far must be a matter of conjecture, but before the esclandre Sir Astley Cooper, after dining at Worcester House, said to Lord Southampton, who was also present, that he was certain that Mistress Anne was the wife of either the King or the Duke of York, judging by her mother’s demeanour. This, it seemed, displayed the scarcely veiled consideration due to the new rank, and an eager expectation of the moment when concealment would be no longer necessary.

115.“The Duke came unknown to him” (“Continuation of the Life of Edward, Earl of Clarendon,” by himself, ed. 1759).

116.“Soon after the Restoration the Earl of Southampton and Sir A. A. Cooper dined at the Chancellor’s. On the way home Sir Anthony said: ‘Yonder Mrs Anne is certainly married to one of the brothers: a concealed respect (however suppressed) showing itself so plainly in the looks, voice and manner wherewith her mother carved to her or offered her of every dish, that it is impossible but it must be so’” (“Samuel Pepys and the World he Lived In.” Wheatley).“Lord Shaftesbury told Sir Richard Wharton, from whom I had it, that some time before the match was owned, he had observed a respect from Lord Clarendon and his lady to their daughter that was very unusual from parents to their children, which gave him a jealousy she was married to one of the brothers, but suspected the King most.” As far as one can judge, Clarendon himself was ignorant. (Burnet’s “History of His Own Time,” Lord Dartmouth’s Notes.)

“Lord Shaftesbury told Sir Richard Wharton, from whom I had it, that some time before the match was owned, he had observed a respect from Lord Clarendon and his lady to their daughter that was very unusual from parents to their children, which gave him a jealousy she was married to one of the brothers, but suspected the King most.” As far as one can judge, Clarendon himself was ignorant. (Burnet’s “History of His Own Time,” Lord Dartmouth’s Notes.)

It is scarcely to be wondered at. Frances Hyde may have been prompted by ambition, or simply by the desire to give her daughter her heart’s desire without counting the cost or considering the consequences. In either case it is hard to blame her, though her connivance placesher on a lower plane than her husband, with his high ideals of what was due to the royal house, exaggerated as the feeling might be which made him say that sooner than see her wife of the Duke, “I had much rather see her dead, with all the infamy that is due to her presumption.”

Yet fate was too strong for him.

It was very likely easy enough for mother and bower-maid to arrange the stolen meetings of the two, when we recollect the position of Worcester House.

It was quite simple, in the velvet darkness of a summer night, for the prince to come down in a wherry from Whitehall stairs to the water-gate of the Chancellor’s house, which he would find unlocked, and so pass through the silent garden where only the whisper of the leaves stirred in the light wind fitfully, piloted by Ellen the maid, to the room where Mistress Nan herself was waiting to keep tryst. No one else need be the wiser—no one else knew, save Lady Hyde, and she would keep out of the way carefully.

It was no doubt a halcyon time, that summer of the Restoration, for many pairs of lovers, joined after long sundering to make reunion all the dearer; and to Anne Hyde it was gilded twofold. Love triumphant burnt in a clearand steady flame, and besides, there was the dazzling promise of splendour and royalty. The moments hurried by all too swiftly in the starlight. If his tongue was, as we are told, slow and halting, hers was ready and swift, and there was, at any rate, the eloquence of clasped hands, of eager eyes.

But matters were not to arrange themselves quite happily at present, and the threads of the puzzle would need a very careful disentangling before the cord would straighten out quite smooth and even.

Rumour had begun to be busy. Gossips talked of a contract. Pepys, who is never very accurate, and who moreover constantly and unaccountably betrays a prejudice against the lady, calls it a promise, only, of marriage.[117]

117.“Diary of Samuel Pepys, 7th October 1660,” notes by Lord Braybrooke, 1906.

He gives the story that James, after the time-honoured manner of the hero of melodrama, had signed this promise with his blood, that Anne had carefully locked it up but that the Duke had found means to get this important paper “out of her cabinet,” that the King wanted his brother to marry her but that the latter “will not.” This remark about the King, by the way,puts the account out of court. Sir John Reresby, more good-natured but scarcely better informed, says the marriage or betrothal probably took place either in January or February 1660, soon after James returned to Flanders on the failure of Booth’s rising. We have, however, much more definite evidence. In the deposition on oath of the parties, to be noticed presently, the word contract is certainly used, and the expression had to be defined. We shall see in what manner this was done.

It is clear that the King very quickly made up his mind to countenance the marriage. He said to Hyde himself that his daughter “was a Woman of a great Wit and excellent parts, and would have a great power with his brother, and that he knew she had an entire obedience for him her Father, who he knew would always give her good counsel by which he was confident that naughty people which had too much credit with his brother and which had so often misled him, would be no more able to corrupt him, but that she would prevent all ill and unreasonable attempts, and therefore he again confessed that he was glad of it.”[118]

118.“Life of Edward, Earl of Clarendon: Continuation,” by himself.

This was, of course, a tribute to the Chancellor himself. Charles II. was fully conscious of how much he had owed for many years to the counsels and service of Hyde, and how important they were likely to prove in the future; therefore his chief anxiety, at that time at any rate, was to bind the latter’s interests to his own at all costs. He also in the daily conference with the Chancellor on which he insisted, used the common-sense argument that the latter “must behave himself wisely, for that the thing was remediless”—in other words, that what was done could not be undone, a highly characteristic attitude on the part of the speaker.

But if the King was prepared to be reconciled to the match, no other member of the royal family could be said to tolerate the idea, certainly not the queen-mother, who was almost beside herself with fury. Anne’s late mistress, the Princess Royal, was also deeply incensed, resenting the affront all the more from the favour she had lavished for so many years on her maid of honour. The storm so evoked raged with more or less violence through the autumn. The wrathful letters written by his mother, on the first intelligence, James had shown to Anne,and before he set out to meet his elder sister, who was on her way to England, he came openly to Worcester House, and taking the Chancellor aside, said to him in a whisper that “he knew that he had heard of the matter, that when he came back he would give full satisfaction, and that he was not to be offended with his daughter.”

What answer Hyde chose to make on this occasion we do not know, nor how much he suspected, but the “matter,” as the Duke called it, had already been made absolutely sure.

Worcester House had been the scene, not only of romance, of love-trysts, of secret meetings on summer nights, but it had witnessed a union which was to have far-reaching results for the realm of England.

On the night of 3rd September 1660, James, Duke of York, and Anne Hyde, did for the second time plight their faith either to other.[119]

119.“Memoirs of the Court of England under the Reign of the Stuarts,” John Heneage Jesse; Macpherson’s “Original Papers”; “Memoirs for History of Anne of Austria,” Madame de Motteville, 1725.

The officiating priest was the Duke’s chaplain, Dr Crowther, Lord Ossory (the son of Ormonde) giving away the bride, and another witness waspresent in the person of the maid Ellen Stroud, who had so often connived at the Duke’s visits, and who now, with the ease of long practice, smuggled these persons into the house. Lady Hyde was certainly not there, though it is quite possible that she was aware of the transaction.[120]

120.“Memoirs of the Court of England under the Reign of the Stuarts.” John Heneage Jesse.

As to the ceremony itself, we have the depositions, as before mentioned, of all present, solemnly and severally attested, which afterwards passed into the possession of John Evelyn.[121]

121.Original Depositions formerly in the possession of John Evelyn. MS. 18,740. B. M.

The first of these may suffice.

“I, James Duke of York do testify and declare that after I had for many months sollicited Anne my wife in the way of marriage, I was contracted to her on the 24th November 1659, at Breda in Brabant and after that tyme and many months before I came into England I lived with her (though with all possible secrecy) as my Wife and after my coming into this Kingdome, And that we might observe all that is enjoyned by the Church of England Imarried her upon the third of September last in the night between 11 and 12 at Worcester House, my Chaplain, Dr Crowther performing that office according as is directed by the Book of Common Prayer the Lord Ossory being then present and giving her in marriage of the truth of all which I do take my corporall oath this 18 February 1660-61.James.”

The bride followed, and each of the witnesses deposed in much the same terms, appending their signatures with the exception of Ellen the maid, who, as was usual in a person of her class at that time, was unable to write, and therefore “made her marke.”

It is very important here to notice that the depositions were further endorsed thus:

“James Duke of York and Anne Hyde Duchess of York having been married at Breda.”

The Worcester House ceremony was therefore to be regarded as simply a re-marriage to guard against any possible doubts or difficulties that might subsequently arise. It was by no means unheard-of for a marriage to be repeated in form where there existed any suspicion as to complete regularity, but this did not render the previous solemnisation less binding on theparties. Considering the character of Anne, who showed herself from first to last a proud, resolute, as well as ambitious woman, the inference is that she had looked on the Breda ceremony as much more than a mere betrothal. Putting aside the strong, even stern, religious principles in which she, the pupil of Morley, had been educated and which she had evinced from childhood, one can arrive at but one conclusion as far as she was concerned.

But an event was to happen in the same month of September, which for the time being was to put aside the thought of everything else.

Smallpox, the terrible scourge of the age, busy at the dangerous season of the falling leaf, smote the youngest son of the royal house, and on the 22nd, Henry, Duke of Gloucester, was dead in the flush of his early youth.

He had abundantly proved himself, in the Spanish campaign, a gallant soldier at the side of his brother James, and if there were already signs manifested that he was not altogether untouched by some of the failings of his race, that question must be suffered to sleep with him. In 1659, when he had been created by letters patent Duke of Gloucester and Earl of Cambridge, he had also been invested with theGarter at The Hague by Sir Edward Walker, Garter King-at-Arms, but he was never installed.[122]

122.Sandford’s “Genealogical History.”

In the anger and excitement consequent on the discovery of the Duke of York’s stolen marriage, the younger brother must needs put in his word.

He did not like Mistress Anne. He vowed with boyish petulance that he hated “to be in the room with her, she smelt so strong of her father’s green bag.”[123]And perhaps, who knows? the impatient words may have rankled in the mind of the latter, though it mattered little after all.

123.“Memoirs of the Court of England under the Reign of the Stuarts.” John Heneage Jesse.

All too soon, alas! the grave closed over the fair young head, and one forgets all that is best forgotten. We only think tenderly of Henry Stuart, as the loving child who sat on his doomed father’s knee at that last piteous interview in St James’s Palace, the day before the fatal 30th January, and promised fealty to the brother who was next to claim it, with the unquestioning obedience of childhood.

HENRY, DUKE OF GLOUCESTER

Charles II., callous as he was steadily becomingto his better feelings, grieved bitterly at the loss of his young brother,[124]and this unexpected sorrow probably helped to soften him with regard to events which were soon to follow. Over in France, too, the little sister Henrietta, whose short intercourse with her brother had been marked by their mother’s unjust persecution of him, wept passionately for him, as she had been eagerly looking forward to seeing him again during the visit she and her mother were on the point of paying to England. At the boy’s funeral in Westminster Abbey his brother James was chief mourner.[125]

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