For some time she had suffered from a pain in her breast. She had a growth there and it could be excruciatingly painful. I used to visit her often and she liked to talk to me of her early days.

She knew she could not live long. One day she said to me: “What I regret leaving so much are my two girls. Mary is nine years old. It is young to be left without a mother; and Anne is two years younger. It is ironical, Catherine. My little boys died. James wanted boys. They always want boys. There were eight children…and only two left. I often wonder what will become of Mary and Anne. They are in line to the throne. Of course, you may yet…”

“It is so long now,” I interrupted. “I have come to believe I shall never have children. How I envy you! Mary and Anne are such fine girls.”

“I pray all will go well with them. If only one could see into the future!”

“Methinks at times it would be better not to.”

“I have not long left to me now.”

“You will recover in the spring.”

“No. That will not be. I am not sorry to go…except for my girls. Catherine, will you watch over them? Life is full of dangers for children in their position. I hope beyond all things that they will make good marriages…I mean that they will be happy ones.”

“I will do all I can,” I promised. “But for people such as myself, Mary and Anne, marriages are made for us.”

“That is true. But Catherine…remember…”

“I will. I will do all that is possible.”

That satisfied her.

The next time I saw her she had grown worse. They had given her drugs to help the pain. Poor Anne, her mind wandered.

I learned then a little about what she had suffered in those early days when there was so much opposition to her marriage, and she had even wondered whether James himself would stand by her. James was uncertain by nature. I was often surprised that he should be Charles’s brother. They were so dissimilar.

In her ramblings, Anne was back at the court of Orange where she had first met James. People had been surprised that she had attracted him, for Anne had never been a beauty. But then James’s countless mistresses had always been on the plain side. The outstanding example was that one who had had his attention longer than any of them — Arabella Churchill. She could never be called beautiful, though she did have a very fine pair of legs. The story was that she had fallen from her horse and, being close by at the time, James had had an opportunity to see them. They had presumably enchanted him and made up for her lack of facial perfection. One of his mistresses remarked that they were all ugly and if they had had any brains James would have lacked the necessary wit to recognize them.

However, James had been taken with Anne Hyde and had actually gone through a form of marriage with her at his sister Mary’s court.

At that time, of course, Charles was in exile and the fate of the royal family was very insecure. Whether James would have taken that step if he had known that Charles would soon be King, I could not know. But he was impulsive. However, it had been an uneasy time for Anne, and as she lay dying she thought she was back in those troublous days.

“Catherine,” she murmured, “are you there?”

I leaned forward and said: “I am here, Anne. I will stay while you want me.”

She put her fevered hand into mine and held it firmly.

She said: “Maurits Beverweert would have married me. It would have been a good match…with the Orange family. But…it was James. They blamed me…my father even. They tried…they all worked against it. They tried to stop it. They pretended it was no marriage…and James…James…”

I bent over her. “Try to rest,” I said.

She smiled and was quiet for a few moments, then she said: “I am going to have a child. I am married…I am…”

I knew she was in the past again.

“It is all right now,” I soothed her. “You are in your bed. You should rest. You will feel better then.”

“Catherine…”

“Yes, Anne?”

“Where am I?”

“You are in your bed in your apartments.”

“They will try to stop the marriage. They will say it was no marriage. And I am with child…”

“I said: “Everyone knows you are married. You are the Duchess of York.”

She smiled.

“We were married, were we not? It was in Worcester House in the Strand.”

“Yes,” I said. “Your father’s house.”

“He is not there now. He is away…in disgrace. It was no fault of mine. It was all secret…but a true marriage. The baby died…” Her face was tragic suddenly. “My little boy…”

“But you have two fine girls now.”

“Mary,” she whispered. “Anne. All those deaths…all those little ones…mostly boys. Catherine…James has turned to your faith.”

She had returned to the present.

I said: “Yes, I know.”

“The people do not like it…but he must be true to his conscience.”

“It shows his strength.”

She smiled a little sadly. “James…he does not always think clearly. He is not clever like Charles.”

“No,” I said.

“The people are not pleased. They seek to destroy him. But James has his conscience. James is weak. He always was. He does not see how necessary it is for him to act with caution, because he is the King’s brother. What will he do without me to help him?”

“Do you guide him?”

“More than you know. I think Charles knows. He talks to me sometimes. He is anxious about James…as anxious as he could be about anything. He thinks of what will come when he is no longer there. As I do…Catherine.”

“So much can happen before that. Charles is strong…stronger than most men at court. He will live for a long time yet.”

“But the time will come…”

“Let us not worry about something which is so far off.”

“James had to worship openly. James has a conscience.” She smiled ruefully. “That is why we were remarried. He knew that I was with child and he owed it to me. Perhaps he was not so eager for the second marriage ceremony as he was for the first.”

“Anne, he relies on you. He wanted to marry you or he would not have done so.”

“Heaven knows, he would have had enough support if he had decided to discard me. But it was his conscience. It is one of the finest things about him, Catherine. He owed it to me then…as he owes it to God to worship Him openly as he believes is right. Catherine, I have not communicated as a member of the Church of England for some time.”

“I have heard that. Are you a Catholic, Anne?”

She was silent for a while and then said: “I do not know. There are so many questions to be answered. I have been studying. You have been brought up in the Catholic faith. You accept it without question. I find it difficult to do that. But now the end is near…I desperately wish I could feel sure.”

“James would be pleased if you shared his faith.”

“I want to, but it is not easy. I keep saying to myself: What is the truth? If only I could have some revelation before I die.”

I held her hand and once more she went into a reverie. She talked of her children. What a lot of suffering there had been in her life. She had lost so many of her children. I thought of the months of waiting, the exultation when the child was in her arms, the overwhelming grief when it was taken from her.

“James, Edward, Charles,” she murmured their names. Born into this world for a very short time…and out of eight only Mary and Anne left.

I was with her when she died. It was the last day of March. The Duke of York was at her bedside. He looked very sad. Anne had spoken of his conscience and I wondered what he was thinking. Was it of all the unhappiness he had caused her? I believed it was. He was very gentle with her in those last moments, and very anxious that she should receive the viaticum of the Church of Rome.

The Bishop of Worcester had been sent for. I knew that Anne was still unsure. How I wished I could have talked to her, have explained to her why she must turn to Rome. Anne had a clever mind; she was the sort of person who must reason. She could not believe without logical understanding. It was hard for her; she was greatly perplexed.

I was praying that at the end she would have some divine inspiration…some understanding. But I believe it did not come.

The Bishop gave an exhortation, but he was not really successful in convincing her, for she said quite clearly when he had finished, “What is the truth?”

I was beside the Duke of York as we watched life ebb away.

Her lips moved at the end and I leaned forward to hear what she said. It was: “Truth…” And I knew that she died undecided.

The Duke was very moved. He covered his face with his hands and was silent for a while; and when he dropped them, I saw that his features were distorted with grief.

Yes, I thought, whatever his weakness, the Duke of York has a conscience.

Anne was buried in Henry VII’s chapel in Westminster.

I had lost a friend.


* * *

THAT EXTRAORDINARY MAN, Captain Blood, came into prominence again.

His exploits were well known and there were many who admired his daring panache, and his tendency to involve himself in wild situations from which he seemed to escape unscathed.

The latest episode was the most outrageous of them all. It was criminal in the extreme and the result for most would have been the hangman’s rope. But not for Captain Blood.

Charles himself told me about it. He thought it was an amusing tale.

“You must admire that man Blood,” he said. “He plans the most daring adventures. He lost his estates in Ireland at the time of my restoration, and that set him off on his adventurous life. His plans are so ingenious. You must be impressed by this. He tried to steal the Crown Jewels. Have you ever heard of anything so preposterous?”

“How could he possibly do that? Is not the regalia well guarded?”

“Indeed it is. That is what makes it such a feat — even to get as far as he did. He is a clever fellow. There is no doubt of that.” Charles began to laugh. “There should be a place at court for him. I find him more amusing than some of those around me.”

“What has he done to amuse you so much?”

“The Crown Jewels, my love. As I told you, he tried to steal them. He had worked out a most devious plan. I’ll tell you all about it. Three weeks before the attempted robbery he came to the Tower of London, dressed as a parson in cloak and cassock. With him was a woman whom he called his wife. She was not, of course. Probably the wife of one of his accomplices. The guardian of the jewels was a man called Edwards and, while looking at them, Parson Blood made himself very affable. Odds fish! How I should have loved to see him playing the part.”

“A parson! Hardly fitting, I should think.”

“Oh, but Blood could handle it. However, the ‘wife’ expressed a great desire to see the crown. There was no harm in showing her this, and Edwards did so, and while this was going on she pretended to faint. There was consternation, and Mrs. Edwards appeared and took the lady to her apartments that she might rest. Blood thanked the Edwards profusely and a few days later returned with a present for Mrs. Edwards. Blood and his ‘wife’ stopped awhile to talk and before they left they had formed a friendship, and Blood asked permission to call again.”

“And Edwards suspected nothing?”

“My dear, Blood is a superb actor. He could join the players at any time.”

“He would find stealing the crown jewels more profitable, if he could succeed, that is.”

“There you speak truth, but what a conceit the man has! And but for ill luck, he would have succeeded.”

“Pray tell me more.”

“It seemed that the Edwards were much impressed and after a few visits Blood asked if he might bring his nephew to visit them. The nephew, they were told, was a young man with a few hundred a year. You can imagine what effect this had on the Edwards, because they had a marriageable daughter. Blood and the ‘wife’ were immediately asked to dine and bring the nephew along with them.”

“The poor daughter. How dreadful for her!”

“The nephew and she were immediately friendly. Meanwhile, Blood was able to make a thorough examination of the premises. He discovered a fine case of pistols which he offered to buy as a present for a nobleman who, he said, was his neighbor.”

“Even then the Edwards did not suspect anything?”

“Indeed no. I can tell you, Blood is a supreme actor…and no doubt he had coached his fellow players well. The Edwardses were delighted at the prospect of their daughter’s union with a man who owned a small fortune. Now it was time for the deed to take place. Blood and the nephew came early to the Tower and, as the ladies were not ready, Blood suggested that Edwards show the nephew the Crown Jewels while they were waiting for them. When they went into the room where the jewels were, Edwards closed the door, then Blood went into action. He threw a cloak over Edwards’s head and put a gag in his mouth. They would not harm him, Blood said, as long as he remained silent. Realizing how thoroughly he had been duped, Edwards struggled and tried to remove the gag from his mouth. Blood had to silence him; he knocked him down and momentarily stunned him.”