“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.