We are here given a period between the summer of 1656 and the winter of 1659-1660. As we know that the Duke’s campaigning had taken him away from Paris in the autumn of 1657, the assumption is that some sort of pledge passed between the lovers before this time, and that they had then parted for some years with the knowledge of their jealously guarded secret confined to themselves alone. No one seems really to have suspected the truth till long afterwards, though there is a despatch dated the 7th or 17th of August 1656 which has been supposed to refer to this love affair, though it is hard to say on what grounds the supposition is founded. The letter is from Ross to Secretary Nicholas.
“In England there is much bustle about choosing Parliament men. Some counties have chosen Bradshaw, Ludlow, Salloway, Harrison and Rich, at which Cromwell is so incensed that he has ordered them to give bail to the majors general of their counties. My wife is going to Dover to get a conveyance to go to the Duke of York. I hear from young Musgrove that Mrs Benson is become ward to a physician who lately applied to the Princess Royal to board with her and one Bronkard who is with her and they are to go with her on her next journey and be spies on the King’s deportment.”[[99]]
[99]. “Calendar of Domestic State Papers,” edit. by M. A. Everett-Green.
It is said that “Benson” is cypher for the Duke of York. Query, is Mrs Benson intended for Anne Hyde? The date makes this supposition unlikely. Even had there been any inkling of the affair it could scarcely have been so soon, and such a storm of wrath was evoked by the discovery of the contract in 1660 that it is most improbable that any suspicion of it was afloat four years earlier.
Too many people were interested in so vital a question for the secret to have been quite closely kept in such a case. It would have leaked out somehow, a whisper here, a hint there, to ears only too ready to listen to so choice a morsel of scandal, from lips equally ready and eager to retail it. It is at least certain that for long after the Paris visit Anne retained the affection and confidence of the Princess of Orange, and we know that these were rudely shaken by the discovery when it was made.[[100]]
[100]. “Lives of Princesses of England.” M. A. Everett-Green.
How the great secret was to be a secret no more, but the property of the world at large, has now to be told.[[101]]
[101]. “Continuation of the Life of Edward, Earl of Clarendon,” by himself, ed. 1759.
In some respects it is fairly easy to reconstruct the London of the earlier Stuarts. Here and there one can trace, by the help of main thoroughfares, the sites of buildings once famous, though now either substantially changed or altogether non-existent. The south side of the Strand in those days was lined with large and stately houses, mansions in the true sense, each with its façade facing the street; and to the rear its shady garden reaching to the river, where the water-gate with its elaborate ironwork and lofty flanking pillars gave access to a flight of steps, where a boat was commonly moored. The Thames was then the chief and favourite highway of the city. Its shining surface was for the most part alive with craft of every description, from the royal barge, gaudy with profuse gilding and silken hangings, to the small boat darting hither and thither, and holding perhaps but a single passenger. Heavy loads would be going slowly down to Greenwich or Gravesend, a boat full of cheerful citizens with violins on board rowing up to Chelsey Reach, a market woman or two with their baskets crossing over from the fields beyond the Tabard on the south side, a Templar embarking at Whitehall stairs to hurry down to Alsatia—it was all a feast of colour and life, such as, in one sense, has passed away from the scene for ever.
One of the great houses occupying such a position was that known as Worcester House.[[102]] It had been originally a residence of the bishops of Carlisle, and it stood on the site of the present Beaufort Buildings, between the Savoy and Durham Place. At the Reformation it became the property of the Crown, and was granted to the founder of the Bedford family, when it was known as Bedford House, till they removed to the present Southampton Street and built there another Bedford House.