Edmund left without asking to see me and I felt much relief when the door closed behind him. Then my father called me to his study. He was dressed in travelling clothes, his saddlebag waiting by the front door, in readiness to join the King’s party and ride behind the King on his triumphant journey through the City.
‘Do you know what Edmund wanted?’ he asked.
I felt sick and leaden in the pit of my stomach. I knew what he was going to say.
‘Edmund has asked for your hand in marriage. He put it most excellently,’ said my father. ‘He gave all manner of good reasons why you should be his wife. Your admirer has it all planned out.’
‘I wish much that he would leave me in peace,’ I said peevishly.
‘Well, he seems to have his mind set upon marrying you, and you could do a good deal worse.’
‘But Father, I do not love him. I never will.’ Then I said something that took even me by surprise. ‘I love someone else.’
There, I had spoken the words.
My father stood looking out of the window at the river. The bells had started to ring out.
‘I feared this,’ he said, turning back to look at me. ‘It is written all over you. Who is this person? Where is he?’
‘He comes from my mother’s world. He is a prince. His name is Tycho. I left him to come home to you. There is no need to worry. I will never see him again,’ I said sadly.
‘When I met your mother that day on the road by the oak tree,’ said my father, ‘I fell in love with her at once. I would have followed her to the ends of the earth. The greatest fortune in my life was that she felt the same way. I cannot force you to marry a man you do not care for. What folly that would be. You must be true to your heart, Coriander.’
‘That is the trouble, Father. My heart is not here, not in this world, and I am torn apart,’ I said.
‘My poor Coriander,’ said my father. ‘I must confess I thought that if you were to marry Edmund, you would stay. In truth I could not bear losing you again. I know one thing. If your mother were alive, she would tell you to be brave and true to what you feel. It is what she did. I can see that Edmund would never make you happy, and to rub along together is, I can assure you, not enough. I ask only that you wait until the King has returned. If then you decide to put on your silver shoes, I will understand.’
‘Father, it is too late,’ I said.
‘I hope not.’ And he kissed me and left the room and I stood in the study looking at the Thames flowing past, and cried, pulled like the river’s current between two worlds.
35
A Fool and his Periwig
London awoke to a chorus of bells that have so long been silent, chiming once again for the coming of the King. The very air seems charged with excitement.
Early in the morning Edmund came round to ask me to marry him. He chose the worst moment, when the house was in turmoil. There he stood, in the middle of the hall, dressed in a new suit with a coat that went down to his knees and silk stockings up to his breeches and bows on his shoes. He was wearing a grand periwig that fitted him ill, making his face look small and mean.
‘Coriander, pray, I would like a word in private,’ he said as Hester rushed down the stairs with the baby, who just that moment had been sick on his new gown. In the kitchen I heard a pan drop and clatter loudly on the stone floor. Ned pushed past us in his shirtsleeves with a bowl of water.
‘We will never be ready in time,’ I heard Danes say.
Edmund took no notice and opened the door to the study as if it was already his own.
‘Please, can it wait?’ I pleaded. ‘This is not a good time.’
‘On such an auspicious day? I can think of none better,’ he said, moving me firmly into the study and closing the door on all the familiar, friendly noises of the house.
‘I want you to be my wife.’
I could not think what to say except a blunt no. My lack of response in no way silenced Edmund.
‘Ours would be, as I am sure you will agree, a most perfect match. Both our families have much to gain from our marriage. I have already spoken to your father. Naturally, in return for my good name, I would expect you to run a neat and tidy home, bring the children up in a God-fearing manner and at all times obey,’ and here he smiled a thin smile, ‘indeed, worship me as your husband.’
I felt like bursting out laughing and had to bite the inside of my mouth to keep myself from doing so, but Edmund, unaware, carried on just as if I had agreed to his proposal.
‘As you know, I am set on entering Parliament and I would require my wife to stand beside me in all matters.’ He turned so that I could see his sharp, unforgiving features and took out a pressed handkerchief into which he blew his nose loudly.
Oh please hurry up and be gone, I thought, hoping that someone would come to look for me and so distract him.
He cleared his throat. ‘Coriander, I have consulted some prominent friends and we agree that it may be best for you to be known simply as Ann Bedwell. It is a more fitting name for a Member of Parliament’s wife.’
I replied as kindly as I could that I thought he must have asked the wrong people, for my name was Coriander and there was no question of changing it.
‘I just meant...’ he said, somewhat flustered by my answer.
‘I know perfectly well what you mean,’ I said. ‘You wish me to look like myself and yet be someone else. I cannot do it. I have had my name taken from me once before. I had to fight to get it back. My name is Coriander. I am not the Ann you are looking for.’
‘I suggest,’ said Edmund, ‘that you reflect on my offer before making a hasty decision which you may come to regret.’
‘My answer, sir, is no.’
Danes saved me. She bustled into the study, unaware of Edmund’s presence.
‘We really must be going, my sparrow. The barge is waiting to take us to the bridge. We do not want to miss a moment of this wonderful day.’
‘Really, madam,’ said Edmund sharply, ‘should you not knock before you come in? This is not a barn.’
Danes looked surprised to be spoken to in such a manner. I thought she was about to give him a piece of her mind when Gabriel came in.
‘Come on, sweet mistresses. Everyone is waiting for you. Do you need a ride, sir?’ he said, on seeing Edmund.
‘Pray, is there no privacy in this house?’ said Edmund, ignoring him.
I took Danes’s arm and left the room, feeling like a canary newly released from its cage. We went down the steps to the water gate where everyone, including Hester with baby Joseph, was waiting in the barge.
I could not help remembering the day that Gabriel and I had come here to face Maud and Arise. Gabriel looked at me as if we were both thinking the same thing, and he smiled at me and squeezed my hand.
As we came out of the gates into bright sunshine the Thames had never looked more festive. Every boat, barge and ferry was bedecked with ribbons and flowers. People were singing and waving as if the whole of London was acquainted and I felt a surge of excitement. I knew that something extraordinary was about to happen.
We landed at the steps beside the bridge and joined the throng of people, all trying to get the best position to see the royal procession. We pushed our way through the crowds until we reached Master Thankless’s shop. Nell was waiting for us.
‘I am so pleased to see you,’ she said. ‘You would not believe how many people have offered good coin to join our party, for we will have such a fine view from here.’
‘I hope you turned them all away,’ said Danes, concerned.
‘Of course I did,’ laughed Nell, standing by the shop door like a guard dog. ‘Just look at the street, the way it is strewn with flowers! Can you believe that we are really going to see His Majesty? I think I may faint when he passes.’
The shop looked quite different. All the bolts of cloth had been cleared away and on the counter roast ham, beef, chicken, pies, sweetmeats, oranges and the first strawberries of the season had been laid out.
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‘What do you think of that?’ said Nell proudly.
‘I think,’ said Gabriel, ‘that it looks like for a feast fit for a king.’
Master Thankless came to greet us with glasses of champagne. We were a very merry party and from the upstairs window the view down Bridge Street could not have been better. We could see everything. Down below, the crowds were packed tight. People were climbing out of windows and sitting on rooftops so that they might catch a glimpse of the royal procession. The bridge itself was hung with cloths of gold and windows were draped with silver tapestries. Everything shone in the morning sunlight.
‘When Oliver Cromwell entered the City, no one threw flowers in his path,’ said Danes, taking care not to call him Old Noll for fear of upsetting Ned.
‘I remember it well,’ said Master Thankless. ‘We were fair terrified in case the army took a fancy to killing any Londoners they met on their way. Now look how the tide has turned.’
We had to wait a long while to see the King, but when he reached Traitors’ Gate we heard a great shout go up from the crowd, so that even before we saw him we knew he was coming.
What can I tell you about the moment the King appeared? We leant out of the window to wave and cheer. I thought he looked magical, all dressed in white and gold, with his long dark hair and handsome face, smiling as he turned this way and that to acknowledge his subjects. Hester held up the baby, Danes wept and Nell had to be held back for fear of falling out of the window, so keen was she to touch the King. Such was the emotion that even Ned, a Puritan to his very toes, looked pleased.
Suddenly I felt a strange sensation. Everything went out of focus. All I could see was the King on his great white charger. I gazed at the horse as if transfixed. His mane and coat shone bright, as if lit up from within by moonshine, and as I watched he shook his head and stared straight into my eyes. My heart raced. Could it be so? Was such a thing possible? I hardly dared whisper the thought to myself.
Then, just as swiftly, all was as it had been before: the bells, the noise, the cheering, the procession, the King and his horse passing by.
‘Are you all right, Coriander?’ said Danes. ‘You look as if you have seen a ghost.’
‘Excuse me. I need some air,’ I said.
‘Come closer to the window,’ said Ned, stepping aside.
‘No thank you. I will go downstairs.’ I left the chamber quickly. I had the clear feeling that I must get back to my house.
I opened the shop door to find Edmund standing there barring my way. He took hold of my arm and moved me back into the shop, closing the door firmly behind him.
‘As you know, I have spoken to your father. My family are with Alderman Harcourt and wish me to escort you to them so that we may make our announcement.’
‘I need air,’ I said as I tried to pass him.
He caught hold of me. ‘I can see that my proposal came as a surprise to you.’
I looked at him, amazed. ‘Sir, can you not understand that I care nothing for you? I will never marry you. Never.’
‘I think you will live to regret your decision,’ said Edmund coldly, holding on to my arm all the tighter.
I pulled myself free. ‘Leave me alone. You are a fool, Edmund Bedwell,’ I said, and I picked up my skirts and ran out into the throng of people. I could hear Edmund behind me as I twisted and turned, finally losing him. The crowds pressed on me like shoals of fishes, the noise deafening. I passed maypoles and merrymakers, all dressed in their best and all in high spirits. I was certain that I saw Medlar, his lantern bobbing along. Then he was gone, as the cry went up, ‘The fountains are running with wine!’ and the noise blew like the wind over and into the crowd who surged forward in response.
I ran and ran, forcing myself onward. I stopped at the garden gate, my heart thumping in my chest. I straightened out my skirt and pulled down my bodice. My hair having come undone, I reached up to pin back the heavy ringlets. ‘Please let me not be wrong,’ I said out loud. ‘Please!’ Trembling, I lifted the latch.
For a moment I thought it was nothing more than a trick of the light or a tear in my eye, for my mother’s garden was alight with colour, brighter than it had ever been before. The rosemary, the thyme, the coriander, the mint, the roses, the marigolds and lavender shimmered like jewels. I ran my hand through the flowers and as I did so butterflies rose up and fluttered towards the sun, beating their wings in tune with my heart.
The garden seemed empty but then I turned and looked at the door to my house. There on the steps he stood, glimmering as if in a heat haze. Fearful that my eyes might be deceiving me, I walked slowly up the path towards him.
He came into focus. Tycho! There was Tycho.
‘You came!’
He took my face in his hands.
‘Coriander, how could I lose you? You are my shadow. You are my light. Will you be mine, Coriander?’
I threw my arms around him and in that moment I knew that this world and the world beneath the silvery mirror had become one, all was well and the future was ours for the taking.
Dawn is breaking and the watchman is calling in the new day. My tale is told, written not by this world’s hourglass. With this, I blow out the last candle.
If we shadows have offended,
Think but this and all is mended:
That you have but slumbered here,
While these visions did appear.
William Shakespeare
A Midsummer Night’s Dream
Some Historical Background
This story is set in the period of the Commonwealth, after the Royalists had lost the Civil War and King Charles I had been executed at Whitehall in January 1649. It was the time of a great experiment - England’s one attempt to get rid of the monarchy and become a republic - and what happened in the 1640s and 50s made Parliament and the monarchy what they are today.
It is hard for us to understand how shocked people were by the execution of the King. Up to that point it was believed that the monarch was there by divine right, chosen by God to rule over His people and to be Head of the Church of England. Charles I believed completely in the divine right of kings. He was married to a Roman Catholic Queen, which did not make him popular. He was not a good politician or a wise ruler, and he made many bad and foolish decisions that ultimately led to the start of the Civil War.
The Civil War brought bitter and bloody battles that divided families and neighbours, spoilt the land and caused great suffering and even starvation among the people. There were two camps, Royalists, who supported the King, and Puritans (also known as Roundheads because of their cropped hair). The Puritans were strong Protestants who desired to reform the Church of England and prevent it from falling back into the arms of the Roman Catholic Church. They believed that only the Bible represented the authority of God, and that Sunday should be kept for prayer and the singing of Psalms. Activities such as dancing, acting, singing and playing music were thought frivolous. Oliver Cromwell was their great champion and general of their army, called the New Model Army.
The Civil War ended with the execution of the King. There followed ten years of the Commonwealth under the leadership of Oliver Cromwell. Cromwell closed all the playhouses and banned Christmas and Christmas pudding. Maypoles were not allowed, and anyone not attending church was fined. Many old churches were ransacked, their stained glass windows broken, and religious relics burnt, for worship was to be kept simple.
All sorts of radical Protestant sects suddenly emerged: the Levellers, the Ranters, the Quakers, the Diggers and many more, some more extreme in their beliefs than others. Among them were the Fifth Monarchists. They were fundamentalists, and believed that England had to be cleared of all its sinners. Only then would the fifth reign be established, that of Lord Jesus Christ, who would come to take up the crown of England. For a time they held great political sway, but in the end even Oliver Cromwell found their demands too far-fetched and would no longer entertain them.
London was relatively un
touched by the Civil War, mainly because the King abandoned his capital for Oxford. Then, when it looked as if Cromwell was going to win the war, it was sensibly decided not to close the gates of London Bridge but to allow him to come in unchallenged.
The late King’s sons and his wife Queen Henrietta Maria had taken refuge abroad some time before, but in 1653 his eldest son, Prince Charles, came back to Scotland where he was crowned King and gathered together an army to fight Cromwell at the Battle of Worcester. Although the King fought bravely, his army was no match for Cromwell’s. Defeated, and with a price on his head, nineteen-year-old Charles went on the run. He had many narrow escapes and even had to hide in an oak tree while soldiers came with dogs to sniff him out, but after six weeks he managed to escape to France.
Oliver Cromwell found that peace is harder to manage than war. He wreaked vengeance on all those who had supported the Royalist cause, confiscating lands and money. It was wise in those days to be seen as a good Puritan. Cromwell had, in fact, as much trouble with Parliament as Charles I had experienced. In the end he virtually became a dictator. He was offered the ultimate prize, the crown, but refused it, preferring to keep the title he had been given in 1653, that of Lord Protector.
Cromwell died in September 1658. His son Richard, nicknamed Tumbledown Dick, took over, but he had none of his father’s gifts for leadership. It was General Monck, one of Cromwell’s staunchest supporters, who saw that England lurched on the brink of another civil war and took the brave decision, much against the will of the army, to invite Charles II back to be King of England. And so began the Restoration.
Sally Gardner, I, Coriander eBook
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