by David Elias
For the same reason, I felt sure, my brother let it be known soon after Frederick’s passing that I might be allowed to return to England and live under his roof if I so desired, but the offer came with only vague intimations of how the children and I should be provided for, and I had by then grown weary of his repeated equivocations. No doubt he himself was short of money, locked as he was in a power struggle with Parliament, having refused to convene that body and thereby unable to raise revenues through the usual channels.
“I see no reason to go back there and live in virtual servitude,” I told Captain Hume, who enquired of me why I was so set against returning to London. “You can be sure I should be reduced soon enough to begging for any crumbs my brother might see fit to throw my way, and I can just as easily do that here. But how for yourself? What arrangements have you made?”
“I am accepted into Charterhouse,” said the Captain, who had just informed me that he himself was returning to London. “Do you know it?”
“Did not my father stay there upon his first arrival in London after he came down from Scotland?”
“Indeed. It was there he prepared for his coronation, just as your godmother did before him.”
“I seem to recall it was Elizabeth’s father . . .”
“That would have been Henry VIII,” the Captain put in.
“. . . who drove the Carthusian monks from the place.”
“And had a good number of them executed most brutally,” added Captain Hume, “for refusing to acknowledge him as the head of the church.”
“Why must all these monarchs have so much blood on their hands? Even to my own father and now my brother Charles. I wonder if my Henry had lived and was now seated upon the throne, whether he would have chosen to follow such a family tradition of wanton carnage.”
“Alas, we can only speculate, but I have no doubt he should have been a just and gentle ruler.”
“And what think you if it were me that now reigned as Queen?”
“I think the country should not now be teetering on the edge of civil war.”
“My brother Charles has no idea a storm is coming. All the better I remain here in The Hague when it arrives.”
“At any rate those very cells at Charterhouse in which the monks did once reside now house men such as myself.”
“And what manner of men are these?”
“Soldiers, musicians, scholars. Those who have been of notable service to their country and now find themselves of limited means.”
“You would be one of these?”
“I shall be provided for in perpetuity.”
“Surely you don’t mean to live the life of a monk?”
“I shall become a Brother, but I am not required to take any vows, only to forfeit my worldly goods.”
“You cannot mean to surrender your viola da gamba.”
“I am allowed to keep a few personal items in my possessions, that instrument among them.”
“And a sword or two, I will venture.”
“I think it shall be permitted.”
“Do you think you will be happy there?”
“Happy?” The Captain raised a disparaging eyebrow.
“Alright, you have caught me out. I grant it is not a fitting idea for either of us to indulge in. Very well, perhaps something a little less romantic: Do you think you shall be content there?”
“I shall have my daily needs seen to.”
“I can do as much for you here, and it would be a great comfort to me if you stayed.”
“I don’t want to be a burden.”
I placed a hand on his shoulder and set my eyes to his, shook my head a little from side to side. “You have never been such nor ever will, but rather a true and loyal companion.”
“I will say the very same for you, Madam.”
His eyes moistened before he pulled himself together, cleared his throat, and replied gruffly, “Nevertheless it is time for me to retire, and I long for the familiar comforts of England.”
“Will you write?”
“As much as I am able.”
***
I found myself thereafter feeling more alone than ever. My husband had left me with a household full of servants and children and very little money. I was granted a small pension, bequeathed to me upon Frederick’s death, but it didn’t last long, and soon enough I was forced to employ once again those same unseemly measures I had been practising all along, though now that Frederick was gone certain parties seemed less sympathetic to my predicament, and so I had to redouble my efforts to stave off financial ruin. In this way I managed from one day to the next, though not without considerable personal sacrifice. Having pawned the lion’s share of my valuables, I had now to begin selling off some of the furniture to make ends meet.
In all of this I nevertheless refused to part with my great bed and swore I would starve to death before I resorted to such a desperate measure. It was the one place of true sanctuary left to me, and I took pains to see that no one, including the children, should disturb me there. Amalia, much as Lady Anne had done before her, stood as a vanguard against all that lay beyond the comforts of those sheets, though her loyalty remained a mystery to me.
One month bled into another, one year into the next. I saw to my children’s education, sent Maurice, Edward, and Philip to be schooled in Paris, which I managed by a combination of uncompromising diplomacy and delicate coercion. My brother had married Henrietta Maria of France, who would later suffer the same fate as myself in that she would also lose her husband (though in Charles’s case it would be the axe that saw him dispatched) and thereafter find herself impoverished. At present she was marooned in London just as I was in The Hague, and though we had never met we were soon corresponding regularly and by this means it came about that she saw fit to make arrangements for my three boys to come to Paris.
As for my daughters Louisa, Henrietta, and Sophia, I took pains to bring them into society so that suitable husbands might be found for them, but it was Elisabeth who presented the greatest challenge for me. She wasn’t like my other daughters, did not conform to the interests and ambitions they shared so amiably, and conducted herself in a manner intriguing on one occasion and troubling the next. She displayed a singular disdain for courtly manipulations and feminine devices, and carried herself with a deep seriousness that was difficult to penetrate. She showed little interest in competing with her sisters for the attention of the young men at court, let alone with her mother. There were still times when it was I, rather than one of my daughters, who became the object of a handsome young suitor’s interest, and this sometimes caused friction between us, especially when Elisabeth would accuse me openly of fostering the situation, something I did not appreciate.
My son Rupert had some time ago gone to England at request of his brother Charles Louis, and even as I considered to what degree the two of them were falling under the influence of my brother the King, I was in receipt of a letter from none other than Lord Craven.
March 12, 1637
Drury Lane, London
Madam,
Please accept my deepest condolences on the passing of your dear husband, Frederick. I should very much have liked to be there in person to offer you what small comfort I could, but circumstance would not permit it. There is considerable turmoil of late here in England, and I fear it shall lead to no small conflict between the two factions opposed to each other. It has been some considerable time since I came to The Hague and first enjoyed the pleasure of your beauteous company. As you know we emerged victorious in that campaign against the forces of the Hapsburgs but I sustained a wound which took me back to England, whereupon I learned the Swedish emperor, notwithstanding Frederick’s contribution, declined to restore him the Palatinate as would have been right and proper. He deserved better, and so did you.
I wanted to write and let you know I am now in
a position to once again be of use to you, and to that end seek your approval that I might make my resources available to your son, Charles Louis, in that same spirit they were first offered to your late husband. I pray you will not refuse me, for I have within my power the means to effect that same restoration you have so long sought after, only now it would see your son Charles Louis ascend to the throne of the Palatinate. I have amassed a considerable army which upon your word I shall convey across the channel and march into Bohemia. It would give me the greatest satisfaction to help you achieve that which you toil yet to bring about. Will you let me do this for you?
I still have the glove you gave me and I carry it with me always. I thought you should doubtless have remarried by now, as there must be many young men who aspire to your excellent company and seek to gain your favour. I tell you not one among them shall prove to be as loyal and true as I, if only you see fit to let me prove myself to you. I look forward to the day when I find myself once again in your fair company and remain, as I have and ever will be . . .
Yours in filial obedience and fond affection,
Lord William of Craven
Here was a chance to free myself from the scheming and subterfuge I was constantly forced to engage in for the sake of income. Lord Craven’s considerable wealth would provide for my own needs. If he was eager to serve me I would take him at his word. We both stood to gain from such an arrangement, and it would all be quite respectable.
What good would it do to accept the advances of those young men that possessed gallantry and devotion in abundance, and had not the chinks? It was money I needed more than anything. My daughters required each of them an ever more extensive and costly wardrobe, that they might dress the part befitting their station, not to mention the expense of elaborate balls and banquets that would have to be arranged in order for them to mingle with the right people. As for my sons, they were bound to undertake further ventures that required financing, not the least of which was Charles Louis’s campaign to make his way to the throne my husband had once occupied. It was the least I could do for my children.
I replied as follows:
April 1, 1637
Binnenhof, The Hague
To the Valiant and Noble Lord Craven,
Sir, you are most gracious to offer your services to my son’s cause, and while I should be most grateful for any assistance you might offer, your declaration of loyalty to my person leaves me at a disadvantage. I hardly know how to respond to your entreaty except to say that I would not have you go into battle for my sake. I am flattered at your expression of regard for me, but as for my assent, it is mine neither to give nor withhold. As much as I welcome the prospect of seeing the Palatinate restored to its rightful heir, the matter must rest in the hands of my son Charles Louis, who is old enough to make the decision for himself, though I have no doubt he would go ahead with the plan with or without my approval.
Should the course of events lead you here to The Hague, I should be eager for the chance to welcome you into my company, that we might make better acquaintance of each other. Your expressions of loyalty and favour give me reason to believe I might find in you a champion such as I am at present in need of. In hope we may find ourselves face to face soon and . . .
With regard for your kindness and affection,
Elizabeth
Henceforth I began receive regular correspondence from him as to the progress of the campaign, in the course of which he never failed to pledge his high regard for me, not to mention his dedication to the safety and well-being of my sons Rupert and Charles. The three of them crossed the channel with a convoy of ships and arrived in Holland in the summer of the year. From there they marched up the Lower Rhine and by the time they reached Wesel had seen other men enlist in the cause until they had amassed an army of four thousand men. They emerged victorious in one battle after another while Lord Craven eagerly reported to me how bravely Rupert fought alongside him, on one such occasion ready to sacrifice his life if Lord Craven had not ordered his men to hold my son back from advancing. It seemed certain the campaign should soon be won, but when they reached Limgea, Lord Craven suffered a terrible wound and their forces were overrun. He and Rupert were taken prisoner but Charles Louis somehow managed to escape.
Thereafter Lord Craven continued to write to me from prison, where he insisted on remaining even though he could have bought his freedom any time he wished by the simple payment of a generous ransom. He was adamant that Rupert should not be left to fend for himself, and to that end elected to stay and see to my son’s safekeeping. I thought it was an exceptional sacrifice for someone in his position to undertake. If he was acting in the fashion of a courageous and noble gentleman there wasn’t anything for me to do but admire him for it, but I also wondered to what extent he was doing it to try and impress me. I pleaded in my correspondence that he not resign himself to a life behind bars for my son’s sake alone, and certainly not for mine, and further that I would not hold it against him if he bought his freedom and found his way to The Hague. What I did not articulate was the fact that he was no good to me there. Better he should find his way into my presence if he was going to be of any use to me as a benefactor. Lord Craven maintained that he would not be able to face me knowing he had left my son behind. Rupert having fought so bravely and being yet so very young, it was the only honourable thing to do under the circumstances, and I should not think he had any motive but that of duty to his fellow man. And so we were at an impasse.
I thought it could not be long before the situation was resolved, but days became weeks and then months, during which time I grew less and less indulgent of Charles Louis who, having made good his escape, had in the interim managed to make his way back to The Hague, where he seemed quite content to remain while the other two languished in captivity. The longer the situation carried on the deeper my resentment grew at being forced to witness his seeming complacency, until a wedge had been driven between us that would prove impossible to dislodge.
When at last the day came for the prisoners to be released I invited Lord Craven to come to The Hague that I might thank him in person for everything he had done. I was certain he would accept my invitation, and if he should go so far as to openly pledge his love for me, I had determined to insist that ours be a courtly love, at least for the time being. I still entertained the notion that I might one day return to Prague, if not as queen consort then as queen mother, and for that reason such passions as we might wish to act upon must necessarily be couched in gestures designed to maintain the proper protocol and decorum. Soon enough we would find ourselves adrift on a sea of unspoken intention, our motives as like to be noble as base, vulgar as poetic, and there we would linger day after day and year after year, and I confess I find myself even now swimming in the waters of that duplicity.
Chapter Fifteen
When at last the day came for my son Rupert to be released from prison he had already determined to return to England rather than The Hague, but I insisted he and Lord Craven stop in at Binnenhof, where a reunion of sorts might be allowed to take place. Upon their arrival my son presented himself to me with such a noble and confident air I hardly thought it was the same man! He had gone into battle as little more than a boy and now he towered above me, a good six inches taller than Lord Craven, so that I had to look up into his handsome face. For Lord Craven’s part his features had taken on a slight ruggedness, and he had grown perhaps a little thinner, but his noble and dignified manner remained undiminished. The two of them seemed to have become good friends, and though Charles Louis professed to be happy at his brother’s safe return, a subtle awkwardness nevertheless crept into their exchanges.
Rupert had no trouble convincing Lord Craven that they should stay a few days before travelling on to London, and so I arranged for a modest banquet to be held in their honour. Lord Craven soon became acquainted with some of those at court, humble as it was, and seemed at ease in such surroundings. He welcom
ed every opportunity to be in my presence, talked passionately to me about any subject I cared to listen to, and generally left no doubt whatsoever of his unabashed affection for me. In no time at all the rumours were rife, and among those who took the strongest exception to the situation was my son Charles Louis. To that end I redoubled my efforts to keep Lord Craven at a safe yet accessible distance, lest anyone think I had intentions to marry. I did not want to fall out of favour with the heir to the throne if it should hurt my chances of returning to Prague when the day finally came that saw the Palatinate restored.
I was sometimes quite cold to Lord Craven, even dismissive, particularly in my son’s presence, and though this was deeply hurtful to William, as I now deigned to call him in private, he continued to take an active part in the daily life of the court, content to worship me from afar, as it were, and I was content to allow as much, for it was nothing unusual that there should be a number of men at court inclined to such behaviour on any given occasion. I took care to note which of the ladies at court might be eager for his attentions as well, and was not a little unsettled to find that one of them appeared to be my own daughter Elisabeth. For his part Lord Craven never wavered from his attentions to me, and in the privacy of our exchanges pleaded that he be allowed to help me with my financial situation, to which I agreed with feigned reluctance. This he did even as the situation continued to deteriorate in England and in spite of the fact that he was in danger of losing his lands.
