The Merry Monarch's Wife

by Jean Plaidy

  I heard news from England. Mary died a few years after I left and William remained to reign alone.

  I was sad to hear of Mary’s death and I regretted that we had not been good friends at the end. I believed she realized that I cared too much for her father to like what she and William had done in robbing him of his throne. I reminded myself that she had stood beside her husband. I wondered whether she was haunted by what she had done to the father who had loved her and her sister so devotedly.

  I was even more saddened by the death of James himself in the year 1701.

  I thought of his life…his romance with Anne Hyde, mother of Queen Mary and possibly another Queen, for since William and Mary had had no offspring, Anne would be next. Clarendon’s daughter—the mother of Queens. And there was poor Mary Beatrice. What of her son? He must have been thirteen years old at that time.

  And what was Princess Anne thinking? I feared she must have felt some remorse at her father’s death.

  So many deaths…so many changes. And there could not be many more years left to me.

  I suffered from bouts of ill health. Maria Sophia had felt that the Quinta de Alcantara might not be healthy and I moved for a while to Santa Martha; and after that, as she liked to have me close at hand, I went to Belem near Lisbon.

  One day I had a message from my brother. He asked me to come and see him.

  I went in some trepidation, for the messenger appeared grave, and I had been worried about Pedro’s health for some time.

  Before I went to him I saw Maria Sophia. She told me how anxious Pedro was. His responsibilities weighed heavily upon him. She feared he needed rest and he must leave the country in capable hands while he took it.

  “He wishes to talk with you about this.”

  I wondered what advice he expected me to give him.

  I sat by his bed. He looked strained and very pale.

  “Catherine,” he said. “I wish to speak to you most seriously. I am not strong enough to continue. My son is young yet. He could not take over the government…I want you to do that…for the time being.”

  “I? You cannot mean that!”

  “I do. Remember our mother. What would Portugal have done without her? You remind me of her.”

  “I…remind you of her! Pedro, you cannot mean that. She was a great woman.”

  “Catherine, you are too.”

  This seemed preposterous, and if I had not been so anxious about him I should have laughed.

  “Always you have been too modest,” he said. “Listen to me. The people love you. They admire you. They call you their savior.”

  “It was the English who saved the country, not I.”

  “Without you there could have been no alliance. They do not forget. If you will not do this, I shall have to rouse myself and…I know I cannot last long without rest.”

  “I cannot believe this.”

  “You must.”

  Maria Sophia was watching me. “You do not realize how the people regard you,” she said. “They will say you saved them once and they will believe you can do it again.”

  “Then they endow me with qualities I do not possess.”

  “It is what they believe,” she said. And I remembered a remark of Charles’s. “If the people believe it, then it is the truth…at least to them.”

  I had been living in comfortable peace…serenely quiet. How could I…innocent and without art—the words of Charles’s song came back to me—how could I take on this tremendous task?

  “You must,” said Maria Sophia. “If you do not, what will become of us? What will become of our country?”

  “You will have your advisors.”

  “You mean I shall be a sort of figurehead?”

  “You have wisdom, Catherine,” said Pedro. “You are our mother again. Remember her. God will help you and with His help you will do it.”

  HOW STRANGE IT WAS.

  I, Catherine, Regent of Portugal. On every occasion the people cheered me in the streets. They proclaimed their belief in me.

  History repeated itself. When my mother had been Regent, the Spaniards attacked; and now here again was a woman, and they attacked once more.

  Those days were filled with activity. I gave myself entirely to the task. I felt as though my mother were beside me, applauding. She had believed once that I would save Portugal by my marriage…and Portugal had been saved. Now I was to save my country through my government.

  I swear that God was on my side. He gave me the wisdom. I could not believe this was myself…that Catherine who had made so little impression on the English court. But at least that Catherine had won the love of the most amorous man in the world—a special love—a tender love which I allowed myself to believe he never gave to any other.

  Our armies were victorious. When I rode through the streets, I was treated with something like idolatry.

  I wished that Charles could have lived to see this. How he would have delighted in my achievement.

  Pedro recovered his health and came out of retirement. He and Maria Sophia showed their gratitude and love in every way.

  How fortunate I was at the end of my life to come to glory!

  That can happen to few.

  I AM NOW IN BELEM and well into my sixties. It has been a long life, and when, through my pen, I recall it all…the dreams…the disillusion…the humiliations of the past…the triumphs of the present…I long to be back in Charles’s court, the most licentious of Europe—dominated as it was, and I shall ever be, by the King and the pleasures of love.

  Bibliography

  Aubrey, William Hickman Smith The National and Domestic History of England

  Bryant, Arthur King Charles II

  Burnet, Bishop History of His Own Time

  Clark, Sir George The Later Stuarts 1660–1714

  Cunningham, Peter The Story of Nell Gwyn

  Dasent, Arthur Irin The Private Life of Charles II

  Evelyn, John Diaries of Evelyn Pepys, Clarendon and Other Contemporary Writers

  Green, Mary Anne Everett Lives of the Princesses of England

  Guizot, M. (translated by Robert Black) History of France

  Hume, David History of England

  Loth, David Royal Charles, Ruler and Rake

  Lyon, Rev. C.J. Personal History of Charles II

  Macaulay, Lord The History of England

  Montague, F.C. Political History of England

  Nicoll, Allardyce A History of English Drama (1660–1700)

  Pepys, Samuel Diary and Correspondence Edited by Wheatley, Henry B.

  Senior, Dorothy The Gay King

  Stevens, Sir Leslie and Lee, Sir Sidney The Dictionary of National Biography

  Strickland, Agnes Lives of the Queens of England

  Wade, John British History

  Reader’s Group Guide

  ABOUT THIS BOOK

  CATHERINE OF BRAGANZA was raised during a tumultuous time in Portugal. Although her father was called King Juan IV, the Pope (due to pressure from Spain) refused to recognize him as anything other than a duke. Looking for an advantageous political alliance, Catherine’s mother, Donna Luiza, sets her sights on the English throne. Even when Oliver Cromwell takes power in England, Donna Luiza does not lose hope in marrying Catherine to the young Prince Charles, and when Charles is restored to England’s throne, marriage negotiations begin immediately.

  Catherine’s marriage, like so many royal marriages, is arranged out of strategy, yet Catherine and Charles begin their lives happily together. As a Catholic, she is not trusted by the people—they believe she will convert Charles, just as his brother James had been converted by their mother. Catherine spends her marriage as Queen in name, yet is sadly unable to keep her merry husband King in her bed. Her inability to produce an heir, despite the fact that all of Charles’s mistresses have healthy boys, sets the people of England and the court strongly against her. Charles, however, remains faithful to Catherine by never divorcing her, not even to legitimize at least one of his �
��bastard” sons.

  Outliving her husband and witnessing the brief reign of James II before the co-regents, William and Mary, overthrow the Catholic king, Catherine returns to Portugal as her life comes full circle.

  The questions in this guide are intended as a framework for your group’s discussion of The Merry Monarch’s Wife.

  QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

  1. Religion plays an important part in this novel. There is very little tension between Charles and Catherine over religion, yet Catherine’s Catholicism matters deeply to the people of England. Why was religion so important?

  2. Charles has many children out of wedlock, the most famous being James Crofts, the Duke of Monmouth. Why is Charles so indulgent of Jemmy? Do you believe that he was behind any of the plots to murder Charles? Why does Charles never legitimize him?

  3. While still in Portugal, Donna Maria tells Catherine on The Long Betrothal “The King cannot come here and you cannot go into a strange country as an unmarried woman.” If this was the case, how was it that Catherine went to England unmarried?

  4. Charles says to Catherine at the beginning of their marriage, “You are completely unworldly. You reason like a child.” (The Awakening) Is this true? How does Catherine change by the end of the novel?

  5. Charles famously dislikes conflict. On Queen in Danger Catherine states, “I knew how he hated trouble, how his great desire was to live a life of comfort and pleasure.” Do you believe that this is the reason he stayed married to Catherine, or did he really love her?

  6. Donna Luiza’s advice to Catherine regarding Lady Castlemaine is simple: “You should treat her as though she does not exist.” Does Catherine follow her mother’s advice? What would you do in that situation?

  7. Buckingham says to Catherine: “You have at least one good and faithful servant—your noble Master of Horse. I’ll warrant he is always ready at hand to give good service to his mistress.” (The Master of Horse) After this statement, Edward Montague is dismissed from his service as Master of Horse. Were you surprised by this, as Catherine was? Does it seem fair that Charles is allowed his mistresses yet Catherine cannot have a male friend?

  8. Frances Stuart was a chaste and innocent girl who loved to play the house of cards game. What, if anything, do you think this game signifies?

  9. Charles is referred to as “merry” throughout the novel. What does that word mean to you? Do you think Plaidy portrays him as a “merry monarch”?

  10. Charles had two mistresses who were both important at the same time in his life, Louise de Keroualle and Nell Gwynne. Discuss their differences and similarities.

  11. Who was Captain Blood? Discuss his plot to steal the Crown Jewels. Why did Charles find this so amusing?

  12. Discuss the importance of having an heir. Catherine was dismayed when she was unable to have a healthy child, and it further tarnished her reputation with the people of England. Lady Castlemaine, Nell Gwynne, Louise de Keroualle, and Lucy Walter all had sons. How would you feel if you were Catherine? What would you do in her situation?

  13. Why was James unable to keep the throne? Do you believe he would have had the people’s love, support, and protection had he been Protestant?

  14. After the kindness that Catherine shows Mary as a young girl, how did you feel about the way Mary treated Catherine when she and William take the throne? Lord Feversham says, “Queen Mary is very angry…. She says a closer watch should be kept on you because she doubts your loyalty to King William and herself.” (William and Mary)

  15. There is a quote from Charles that begins the book and then appears in the last chapter:

  But when I consider the truth of her heart

  Such an innocent passion, so kind, without art

  I fear I have wronged her, and hope she may be

  So full of true love to be jealous of me

  O then ’tis I think no joys are above

  The pleasures of love.

  Do you think this was written for Catherine? Discuss.

  An Excerpt from

  THE QUEEN’S DEVOTION

  EARLY DAYS

  THERE HAVE BEEN TWO PEOPLE IN MY LIFE WHOM I HAVE loved beyond all others, and it has always weighed heavily upon me that I was called upon to decide between them and, in choosing one, I betrayed the other. I did what my heart, my faith, my sense of duty dictated, and ever since I have suffered from the torment of knowing of the pain I inflicted and from which I myself will suffer to the end of my days.

  I want to go right back to the beginning, to project myself into the past, to see it more clearly than I could when it was happening. I want to ask myself: what should I have done?

  I was born in St. James’s Palace at a time when my birth was of little interest to any except my parents, for a most significant event was taking place. My uncle, King Charles, recently restored to his throne after more than ten years’ exile, was about to marry the Infanta of Portugal—an event which generated great excitement and expectation throughout the country. In any case, I was only a girl, and fifteen months after my birth, a boy was born to my parents, a fact which robbed my birth of any importance it might have had.

  In the beginning the world was a wonderful place; the days were full of sunshine; I was surrounded by people who loved me and, being cherished by all, I was led to believe that the world had been created for my pleasure.

  The best times of all were when my parents visited us. Everyone was so respectful to them that I quickly realized how important they were. My mother would take me up into her arms. She was like a big soft cushion into which I could sink with a feeling of cozy security. She would caress me, murmur words of love to me, and pop a sweetmeat into my mouth and show me in a hundred ways how much she loved me. But the most important of all was my father. When he came into the nursery crying: “Where is my little daughter? Where is the Lady Mary?” I would stagger or toddle and later run to him, and he would pick me up and set me on his shoulder so that I could look down on everything from my lofty perch. I loved all those around me but no one so much as I loved my father.

  Once I heard someone say: “The Duke loves the little Mary beyond all others.”

  I never forgot that and I used to say it to myself when I was in my bed alone. I would listen for his coming; and often in later years, when I was haunted by memories of the fate which had overtaken him, I would recall those days and, sickened with doubts and self-reproaches, I would contemplate the part I had played in his tragedy.

  How often then did I sigh for those days of my youthful innocence, when I thought the world a beautiful place in which I should be happy forever.

  When he visited us he would not let me out of his sight. I remember an occasion when he even received some of his officers to discuss some naval matter and he kept me there with him. He was Lord High Admiral of England then and I remember his seating me on the table while he talked to them; and, to please him, I know now, the men commented on the extraordinary intelligence, vitality and charm of his daughter—and how delighted he was.

  Sometimes it is difficult to know whether I really remember certain incidents from those days or whether they were talked of so frequently that I convince myself I do.

  There is a miniature of me painted by Nechscher, a Flemish artist of whom my father thought highly. I am holding a black rabbit. They told me how my father used to join us at the sittings and watch me fondly while the artist was working. In my mind’s eye I can see him clearly, but was I really aware of him at the time?

  There are some days which I do remember and I can be certain of this. I was nearly three years old. It was cold, for it was the month of February. I knew something important was taking place. Snatches of overheard conversations came to me.

  “I hope the Duke and Duchess will get what they want this time.”

  “Well, I don’t know. The boys are sickly and I reckon he wouldn’t change the Lady Mary for all the boys in Christendom.”

  When my father came to see me, after the usual rapturou
s greeting, he said: “You will be happy to hear, my daughter, that you have a little sister.”

  I remember my bewilderment. A little sister? I already had a little brother. There were always nurses around him and he did not mean a great deal to me.

  “She will join you here,” went on my father, “and you will love her, dearly.”

  “You love her?” I asked.

  I must have shown my father that I feared she might supplant me in his affections, for he gave me a smile of immediate understanding.

  “I love her,” he said. “But whoever came, it would always be the Lady Mary who had first place in my heart.”

  Excitement followed. Young as I was, I was to stand as sponsor for my sister; and Anne Scot, the Duchess of Buccleugh, was to be the other. Later I learned that this honor had been bestowed on her because she had recently married my cousin Jemmy, who had become the Duke of Monmouth.

  I certainly remember that occasion well. It was presided over by Gilbert Sheldon, who was the Archbishop of Canterbury at the time, a very stern and formidable man of whom I should have been very much in awe but for the presence of my powerful father who would never be stern with me, or allow anyone else to be.

  The new baby was christened Anne, after our mother, and in due course she joined the nursery at Twickenham.

  THE HOUSE IN TWICKENHAM belonged to my grandfather—my mother’s father, the Earl of Clarendon. He was a very important man, I realized, though I saw him rarely. There was another grandfather, whose name was always spoken in hushed whispers because he was dead, and when I was very young indeed I knew there had been something very shocking about his death.

  Some people called him The Martyr. Later I learned that he had been king and that wicked men had cut off his head. I shivered every time I rode past that spot in Whitehall where they had performed this dreadful deed.