Виктория Холт - The Merry Monarch's Wife

I am going to make a short progress into some of my provinces; in the meantime, whilst I go from my most sovereign good, yet I do not complain as to whither I go; seeking in vain tranquillity in my restlessness; hoping to see the beloved person of Your Majesty in these dominions, already your own; and that, with the same anxiety with which, after my long banishment, I desire to see myself within them; and my subjects desiring also to behold me amongst them, having manifested their most ardent wishes for my return well known to the world.

The presence of your serenity is only wanting to unite us, under the protection of God, in the health and contentment I desire. I have recommended to the Queen, our lady and mother, the business of the Conde da Ponte who, I must here avow, has served me in what I regard as the greatest good in this world, which cannot be mine less than it is that of Your Majesty…

The very faithful husband of Your Majesty whose hand he kisses.

Charles Rex

London, the 2nd of July, 1661

It was the perfect love letter and I felt ecstatically happy.

I am glad I did not know then that after he had written this, he went off to spend the night with the woman who was to prove one of my greatest enemies.

THE MARRIAGE TREATY had been ratified and it was my mother’s wish that in our court I should be known as the Queen of England. I emerged from my sequestered life as an unmarried Infanta and had a place beside my mother, my brother King Alfonso, and the Infante Pedro.

“It would be well to leave before the winter comes,” said my mother.

But the winter came and still the Earl of Sandwich had not arrived with his fleet which was to take me back to England.

It would be too late now to leave before the weather made the journey too hazardous. Christmas had come and gone and I was still waiting.

“It cannot be till spring now,” said my mother. She was anxious. The Spaniards were augmenting their forces on the frontiers. There had been so many delays. People were beginning to say the match would never take place.

It was a time fraught with apprehension. I was glad I did not know to what ends my mother had to go to make sure we had had adequate defence against the enemy — but I was to learn of this later.

I remember well that joyous day.

It had been preceded by the deepest anxiety. Spring had come and Spanish ships were sighted off the coast. The attack was imminent.

I could see the despair in my mother’s eyes. She had been so certain of her wisdom in keeping me as a wife for Charles as the means of saving my country; she had been so sure of success; and now it could be that, because of these delays, all her hopes were foundering. If the Spaniards attacked now we could not resist them. Would the King of England want to marry the daughter of a defeated country, a vassal to Spain? In any case, the King of Spain would not allow the match.

I knew she prayed for a miracle — and her prayers were answered.

Spanish ships were preparing to land when those of the English fleet, in the charge of the Earl of Sandwich, came to take me back to England.

It was a triumph for us and defeat for the Spaniards.

Those Spanish sailors remembered the stories of the little English ships which routed the mighty armada of Spain. Their grandfathers had told them of that misadventure. They had told of El Draque, who was no ordinary man — a giant, a dragon, possessed of unearthly powers. Only such could have destroyed the great armada.

The Spanish ships made off with all speed and the troops massed at the frontiers could not act without the supplies of ammunition they were bringing. They could only disperse — and we were safe.

Lisbon went wild with joy. Bells were ringing and crowds gathered on the shore to greet the English ships.

“Viva il rey di Gran Britannia!” cried the people.

My mother’s relief was immense. The Earl of Sandwich must be given a royal welcome. Alfonso must send the Comptroller of the Household out to his ships; there must a twenty-seven-gun salute; the Earl must receive the warmest welcome possible from a grateful country.

There must be rejoicing. The finest apartments were prepared for him; there should be the grandest of banquets and the best bulls must be brought out for his entertainment. The anguish of uncertainty was over. The marriage could not fail to be celebrated now.

I did notice that after the first great relief my mother still seemed anxious. I wondered why this could be and, buoyed up by my newly acquired status — after all, I was styled Queen of England — I had the temerity to ask her what was wrong.

I waited until I could be alone with her, and I said: “I fear that you are not entirely happy, as I thought the arrival of the Earl of Sandwich would allow you to be.”

She bit her lips and hesitated for a moment or so, then she said: “I will confess to there being a certain difficulty. You know full well how, over the last few months, we have lived in fear of an attack from our old enemy. I had to keep the borders guarded. That has been extremely costly. The fact is that the money which was set aside for your dowry has had to be used to maintain the army. I had promised that five hundred thousand pounds should be delivered and the Earl of Sandwich should take it back to England with him. During our dire need of the last few months, I have had to use some of that money…indeed a great deal of it.”

I was horrified. “Which means you do not have the money which you promised?”

“That is so.”

“But…”

“It is a delicate situation.” She was looking at me anxiously. I knew her to be a woman who was never at a loss, even in the most desperate situation. She went on: “I have decided what I must do. I must throw myself on the mercy of this man. Tangiers is now in the hands of the English and he is here to take you back. Surely he will see that it is too late to abandon the mission for the sake of the money. I shall tell him that he shall have half of it and the other half shall be paid within a year.”

“Will that be possible?”

“My dear daughter, I must make it possible.”

“When will you explain this to the Earl of Sandwich?”

“You may trust me to find the appropriate moment.”

I was uneasy. I hated this bartering. It spoiled my romantic dreams. It was as though the King were being paid to take me for his wife.

Of course, I should have faced the truth. He was. But that was how marriages were arranged in royal circles. The advantages to both sides were weighed in the balance, and if the result was good enough, the marriage took place.

I did not want to look at it in that way. For me, Charles had become a hero in my life…the perfect man, the only husband I could ever want, and I was as anxious as my mother was that all should go well. I had unpleasant thoughts of the Earl sailing off with his fleet…and of the Spaniards laughingly watching him do so and then coming to strike.

SO IT WAS WITH SOME QUALMS that I prepared for my meeting with the Earl of Sandwich. He was a good-looking man, in his late thirties, I imagined. He had a pleasant countenance and my spirits rose at the sight of him. There was something comforting about him.

I learned afterward that he was not a man of deep convictions, for he had served Oliver Cromwell with loyalty and had continued his duties under Richard Cromwell. Now the King had returned and the Earl’s devotion was proved to be to whatever government was in power. He was a sailor; he worked for his country and whoever was head of the state; he remained in his post of Admiral.

He was delighted with the welcome he had received from the people of Lisbon. He had come just in time, and by his presence had saved our country; so naturally they were eager to show their gratitude.