“Dearest Mamie,” I murmured. “Rest in peace and may God bless you.”

In the midst of my mourning for my mother and my dearest friend, there was one piece of good news. Messengers arrived from George Digby, Earl of Bristol, and Henry Jermyn. They wanted to join me but first wished to know if they would be welcome. I sent off at once to say I should be delighted to receive them.

“There is so much I could do with the help of trusted friends,” I wrote.

So they joined me and in spite of everything my spirits were lifted a little. I often thought how happy I could have been if Charles were with me and this was a state visit. With the Prince of Orange and his father away from the Court on military maneuvers there were not the same entertainments. Mary seemed to pine for her husband, which pleased me because I longed for my children to enjoy the happiness I had found in marriage—or should have done if our miserable enemies had allowed me to. Alas, there were not many men in the world like Charles.

Henry Jermyn did a great deal to cheer me. Digby did what he could but he was too fond of the sound of his own voice and was constantly declaiming about the wrongs of the Parliament and such matters which did not make him very popular. Henry Jermyn was different. He was merry and charming and somehow made me feel that everything was not as hopeless as it had seemed before his arrival.

The Princess of Orange gave birth to a daughter and I was asked to hold the child at the font and as a compliment to the new member of the family the child was to be given the name of Mary. But I held firmly to my convictions which could not allow me to be present at a Protestant church ceremony, so Mary took my place.

There were some—perhaps Henry Jermyn among them but he was too discreet to mention the matter—who thought that I should not have risked offending the Prince and Princess of Orange by refusing to take part in the ceremony, but nothing on Earth would induce me to go against my principles.

With the coming of Henry and Digby luck changed a little. I discovered that, though I could not sell the royal jewels, I could pawn them, for there were some merchants who were ready to advance large sums of money on the understanding that if the jewels were not redeemed by the payment of this money with interest they could legitimately claim them.

I was never one to think far ahead. I needed the money at that time and I needed it desperately and here was a chance of getting it. Ammunition, an army, ships…they were far more important to me than jewels.

Moreover the Prince of Orange who had publicly said he could not aid me, was less rigid in private. He was very proud of his connection with the royal family of England and did not want to see it become of less importance. Unobtrusively ships were beginning to slip across the North Sea and were lying at anchor in the river Humber. I was really becoming rather pleased with my mission after all. It had taken longer than I had anticipated and I had not done it in quite the manner which I had believed it would be done, but what did it matter as long as the mission was accomplished.

With what joy I wrote to Charles to tell him of my success, but whatever news we had for each other was always overshadowed by our declarations of love. I asked tenderly after his health and told him he must not worry. I was working with him. He was going to be surprised at what I was able to do. We should soon have those miserable Roundheads skulking away, hiding themselves in the country. I was longing to be in England, I told him. “Holland does not suit me. The air must be different from that of our land which you love because it is yours, and I for the same reason. I have pains in my eyes and my sight seems sometimes not so good. I think perhaps I have shed too many tears and they need the balm of seeing you since that is the only pleasure which remains in this world, for without you I would not wish to remain in it one hour.”

Rupert came to me one day at the end of August. He was wildly excited.

He said: “The King has set up his standard at Nottingham. I shall go and fight beside him. This is war.”

So it had come. I had known it would for some time, but to hear it was actually so was a great shock to me. I had to get back. I could not remain away any longer.

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.