I began my preparations to return.
It was sad saying goodbye to Mary. The poor child wept bitterly.
“But you understand, my love,” I reminded her, “that I must get back to your father. I am leaving you with your kind new family and I believe you are already in love with your Prince and he certainly is with you. In happier days you will come to our Court and we shall come to yours. I shall enjoy wandering through those lovely gardens of the Hague Palace. The ornamental walls and the statues and fountains are very fine and the lovely stately hall is almost as large as our own at Westminster. You will soon be with us, dearest child, so don’t fret. Pray for us. Your father is the best man in the world and we are all so lucky to belong to him. Never forget that.”
Poor child, she was so young! It was too much to expect that she could hide her grief.
I hated the sea. It has never been kind to me. Sometimes I thought there was some malevolent force which was determined to make me as uncomfortable as possible whenever I set out on it. I had my dear old dog Mitte with me. She was always such a comfort and I would not be parted from her; I dreaded the day when death would take her from me for she was very old. I loved all my dogs and had always been surrounded by them, but Charles had given me Mitte and she had been with me so long. So I talked to her and she nestled against me and I whispered to her that we should soon be home.
The Princess Royal was a fine old English ship and we set sail from Scheveningen with eleven ships all full of stores and the ammunition which I had been able to buy. I must say I was feeling rather proud of myself and I prayed fervently that I should reach England without mishap. As the great Admiral van Tromp accompanied us, I was confident that we had a good chance of doing this.
I might have known that there would be no easy voyage for me. It was not in my destiny to have that good fortune. No sooner were we a few miles from the coast than the wind arose. What discomfort! There we were in our horrid little beds, tied down to prevent our being thrown out by the violent pitching and tossing.
That journey was a nightmare but oddly enough I seemed able to endure it better than my companions. Perhaps I had suffered so often at sea that I was prepared for it; perhaps I was so fearful of the future and of what would happen to Charles and his kingdom that a storm at sea seemed of less consequence to me. Moreover I was not so ill as some of the others and found that if I could escape from my bed and stagger onto deck, the fresh air revived me. Everyone thought this was highly dangerous but I insisted. My ladies who felt they must accompany me wailed out their wretchedness.
“We are all going to be drowned,” they cried.
“No,” I answered. “Comfort yourselves. Queens of England are never drowned.”
I was so elated at the thought of going home and by the transactions I had been able to make that I could not be downhearted. They all marveled at my high spirits and I couldn’t help laughing to see my attendants attempting to observe the etiquette of the Court and serve me in an appropriate manner though the mischievous winds tossed them about and some of them were obliged to approach me on all fours.
We had several priests on board. They lost a little of their dignity for they thought they could not possibly survive, and I could not altogether restrain my mirth to see their fear. They were usually so tutorial and I had resented being told even by priests that I was sinful and that I must make this or that reparation. So I could not help but be amused to see them in terror of sudden death when they might not have time to make their last confessions and so die without the forgiveness of their sins.
Some of them shouted to the heavens, detailing what sins they had committed, so it could not be anything but funny to hear these men who had set themselves up as our pastors admitting to such sins as fornication and dishonesty, revealing that they—who had set themselves on such high pedestals the better to instruct us in our duty—had the same acquisitive and prurient tastes as so many.
After we had tossed on that wicked sea for nine days we sighted land. Alas, it proved to be Scheveningen from where we had started out.
As we came into port my daughter, with the Prince of Orange and Prince William, was there to greet us for news had reached the Hague that we were being driven back to Scheveningen.
I stumbled on deck, not realizing what a pitiful spectacle I must have presented—pale-faced, tousle-haired, my garments, which I had been unable to change for nine days, stained and malodorous.
The gallant Prince drove his carriage into the sea so that I could be lifted into it and not have to face the eyes of the curious crowd which had assembled on the shore.
Our terrifying trip was over and had merely brought us back to the place where we had started, minus two ships; but most people thought we were lucky to have lost only two.
The first thing I did when I was bathed and changed was sit down and write to Charles.
“God be praised that He has spared me to serve you. I confess I never expected to see you again. My life is not a thing I fear to lose except for your sake. Adieu, dear heart.”
I was determined to stay only long enough to recover from the ordeal so that we could be refreshed and ready to start again.
We landed at Burlington Bay in Bridlington. It was bitterly cold for the snow lay on the ground, but I did not care. I had landed safely and I had a squadron of ships containing the treasures we needed. I was exultant. Soon I should be with Charles.
It was a quiet spot but I noticed a little thatched cottage close to the shore and this appeared to be the nearest habitation and the only one from which I could watch the unloading of the stores so I said that was where we would stay.
I sent some of the men to arrange this and very shortly I was in the cottage eating food which had been prepared for me. Now that I had arrived I realized how exhausted I was. During the first disastrous stage of our voyage I had hardly slept at all and now that I was becoming easier in my mind there was nothing I needed so much as sleep. And I think this applied even more to my attendants, who had suffered far greater from the ravages of the sea than I had.
We could not begin to unload until I heard from Lord Newcastle, who was in charge of the area and who, I knew, was a staunch supporter of the King. I needed his help in the operation, for we should have to get the arms and ammunition to the King’s forces as soon as possible. So the wisest thing to do was to rest.
I went into the little room which had been made ready for me and I stood for a moment looking out of the tiny window at the fog which was settling on the sea and my eyes strayed to the snowy-roofed houses of the town. Where was Charles? I wondered. I should soon know. I could imagine his delight when he heard that I had landed safely in the country.
Then I lay down on the bed and was soon fast asleep.
I was awakened by the sound of a shot and as I sat up in bed I heard voices and running footsteps as the door of my room was flung open. Someone came and stood close to the bed.
“Henry!” I cried for in the dim light I could recognize Henry Jermyn.
“You must get up at once,” he told me. “We have to get out of this cottage. Four ships belonging to the Parliament have come into the bay. They know you are in the cottage and are opening fire.”
He seized a robe and wrapped it round me.
“Hurry!” he commanded, forgetting in his agitation that he was speaking to the Queen.
I allowed myself to be wrapped up and hustled into the open, where my ladies and other attendants were impatiently waiting.
“We must get away from the shore,” said Henry; and even as he spoke the cannon balls were firing on the village and one hit the roof of the cottage I had just vacated. “Hurry,” went on Henry. “We must take cover.”