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Nothing Rhymes with Oranje | Noon 28th- Xmas 1677


Guest John Bramston

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John’s face flickered with recognition of the dodge before moving on. Such things were instructive, in their way. He nodded to her comment on it being a good time to be an Englishman in the Netherlands. He was well-aware of their rivalry. But there’d been more than fortune in his luck.

 

As for tulips, John was perplexed. “Yes. I g-g-gave you one. Did you n-n-not receive it?” John had sent a potted tulip from her homeland alongside his request to meet. “I’ve g-g-got seeds too. I intend to p-p-plant them in the p-p-proper season. A b-b-bed of Dutch tulips will be a fine thing.”

 

An idea occurred to John, “Do you want one? A b-b-bed of Dutch tulips?” If she had the funds and land John would be pleased to make a Dutch style sunken tulip garden too. But that was a bit much to start off on.

 

As for the food, “It was good. Familiar in m-m-many ways, with… a few surprises.” John said with a smile. He was not going to speak at length about his new taste for Dutch alcohol.

 

John had yet more to speak of, “So what are you d-d-doing for Christmas?” John knew, from the affair with Ormonde, that the duke and Cavendish were not very close. Cavendish had said Ormonde didn’t treat him very well. If he was not included in their holiday plans, John had every reason to believe the two were entirely separate. And that meant Ormonde was deprived of his greatest connection in Parliament, at least as far as John knew.

 

That could prove absolutely lethal to a man who needed his administration to not come under scrutiny for lax treatment of Catholics in a very anti-Catholic time.

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"Yes, yes. I meant the seeds, for the blooms fade so easily." She was glad to hear he was farsighted on the subject. "I did receive it," she acknowledged. "Thank you for your thoughtfulness."

 

When he asked about a garden for her, Amelia smiled. "I have one already. I had one planted long ago. It helps remind me of my home. You are most kind to offer. If I did not have one, I should surely encourage you in your offer. We have many variety of colors. My favorite is the purple, because it seems rare. I purchased seeds from a Turk many years prior," she admitted.

 

When he asked about Christmas, she assumed he meant New Years, since Christmas had passed. "Do you mean New Year? We plan to join the festivities planned by the King," she disclosed. That was no surprise. Most anyone that was anyone would be there. "I do hope something spectacular is planned."

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Tulips had long ago come to England so there was nothing special about the seeds horticulturally. But something about orange tulips from Holland appealed to John’s sense of aesthetics. John noted she enjoyed purple. There were some purple flowers that were still in bloom in winter.

 

“The Christmas season, until Epiphany.” John clarified his question. Christmas Day had passed but the twelve days of Christmas were still ongoing. John smiled at her wish for the spectacular, “I imagine so. It w-w-will be interesting to see the gifts. What are you… getting for little Elizabeth?” John meant Cavendish’s daughter, Amelia’s niece. “She’s hard to get… something for at that age.”

 

Of course, if they weren't spending the holiday together or weren't close there might be no such plans.

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"Of course," she replied when John corrected her. It was her experience in England to give a gift upon the new year.

 

"Yes, that is a difficult age," Amelia replied. Young girls minds were often full of fantasy. "If I were to give a gift, I think a Bible of her own, with a family tree in the front, would be suitable. Both Willy and Henry are so young that most anything would suffice."

 

In her words she made clear that she intended no gift exchange. There was to be no family gathering. Her husband was estranged from all his siblings, and hated all of his Catholic relations. Amelia could not understand why her husband was so cold to Mary, his sister, because she was an Anglican; but the Duke was happy to ignore them all. Amelia was forbidden from even speaking with the Catholic relations, but she tried to remain cordial, if not friendly, to Mary, who had always been friendly to her.

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John laughed, “Yes, perhaps.” John would think on it. “What is a… Dutch bible like, anyhow?” John imagined they didn’t use the King James’ version. Though as foreign Protestants it was more an academic interest.

 

So they were distant. John knew in one case Ormonde had consulted with Cavendish, even going out of his way to see Mary. He knew too that Amelia had openly spoken with Diana Butler and was privy to private details of her marriage. And Diana had gone out of her way to declare herself Catholic at first meeting. The revelation was incongruous.

 

But resolving that was less important than another piece. The English Parliament had great influence over Ireland. If Ormonde had no force there, his administration was ineffective and precarious. And Ormonde was not English, so John doubted he could personally possess influence there. Such weakness boded well for John in several ways.

 

“What d-d-do you think of the princess going over to Holland?” John asked. It seemed a bit abnormal for her to dwell in the house of her husband before they married.

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"Well," she played along, "it is written in Dutch," she teased lightly. "Our own reformed church in the United Provinces were much affected by Presbyterian and Puritan influences from England if you would know. The Bible was approved by a Dutch Synod."

 

John could not know that Amelia was viewed as too nice for her own good by her husband. Over the years it had taken a toll on the outgoing young woman and had turned her into a more reserved and cold person. She could no longer do battle with her husband and learned that life was easier if she simply obeyed him. There had been breaches in his prohibitions and she had suffered the rants that followed. God only knew whether she would suffer for meeting with Maldon himself. Her husband might think it some indirect attempt to repair relations with his sister.

 

"I think it a good thing that Mary went to Holland. It is time for England to draw closer to its Protestant brothers." Amelia expected to be one of the English aristocracy to benefit the most, given her Dutch blood lines. She hoped one of her daughters would serve in the princess Mary's household. She was not troubled at all by the princess staying in her cousin's household. It was entirely appropriate under the circumstances.

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“Puritans and Presbyterians? It must be frustrating to be in a country committed to the via media.” John said. The via media was an Anglican principle to stand between the folly of Papism and radical Reformation. But it was also often English politics to walk between continental powers, playing them against each other.

 

John had permission to meet both Amelia’s daughters later today. John didn’t imagine Ormonde would object to John meeting his wife.

 

“It would be… nice if the marriage l-l-leads to something like what we had with Portugal.” The Portuguese had been very generous. John thought the Dutch would not be. "What d-d-do you think the Prince will want as a dowry?"

 

John didn’t mind the visit really. But going to dwell with your future husband before you were married was sin. A commonly tolerated sin, but John was curious to sniff out how traditional Amelia was. He took the answer to mean she was a stereotypical Dutchwoman. Not very, in other words.

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There was no comment about religion. It was rarely a safe topic to discuss with acquaintances.

 

As for comparing to marriage to William with the match with Catherine, Amelia was not so sure she agreed. The Portuguese were not particularly good allies. If anything, they required English soldiers to safeguard them from Spain. The Dutch, under William, she hoped would be more meaningful allies against the French. The Portuguese were little more than a client of France in her opinion.

 

"I should hope it would be stronger, and more fruitful." She could only hope that the couple would have issue. As for the dowry, that was the subject for fathers generally, and not the province of women. "Since she is the daughter of the Duke of York, rather than the King, I suspect that expectations will be adjusted accordingly. I am certain that the Duke will provide well enough for his eldest. Why do you ask?" She thought it odd for such a young man to be interested in such things. Perhaps he was thinking of what he might ask one day when he chose to marry; but, there was no sense in doing that so far in advance. Each family was different.

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John was specifically thinking that the Portuguese had let the English into their colonies. How they'd given favorable trade terms. From that had come a great many discoveries. New plants and tea and...

 

“It’s to be a p-p-purely private dowry you think?” John said. He thought it would be normal for the King to ask Parliament to raise funds for her dowry. Or to ask to transfer some territory to the Netherlands. And the marriage treaty could not have certain provisions without Parliament’s approval. “By God, d-d-don't tell the Dutch. They're all abuzz with how the tariffs will change and how we'll enter the war.”

 

Perhaps the issue was that John considered such treaties to be part of her dowry. He was not talking about money specifically. John was trying to figure out what the new order would look like. What the Dutch wanted. What they would give. At least in Amelia's opinion.

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Amelia had very little insight into the topic. She merely wanted things to be arranged amiably. She imagined that the King's envoy would know the details, and few others. She had no plans to ask. Perhaps her brother might enlighten her one day, but that would need to wait.

 

"I cannot say for certain. I should think that it would be private; but then, Parliament seems overjoyed with the match, so perhaps they might contribute something." This was mere speculation.

 

The young man wished to talk politics, money and business with her. While she credited his earnestness, he was unlike other Englishmen who did not raise such topics in front of ladies. Ladies were to be blissfully ignorant of such complicated affairs. Amelia had more of a head for business because of her roots, but it was rudimentary.

 

"Oh" she cautioned in half jest, "do not speak of tariffs. The Dutch are great mercantile rivals to the English and there is grave concern, no doubt, as to any agreements in that regard. Yet, I should not think that such matters of state would be settle as part of a dowry." Yet her voice reflected a lack of certainty in that regard.

 

"Really, you would learn more of such things, I suspect, by speaking to the Northern Secretary. I fear I am a mere spectator in these affairs."

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John marveled a bit at her view the marriage was a private matter. It was such a… different view from his. John saw the marriage as political move. He suppressed the urge to point out there was a real chance the Princess of Orange would one day be Queen-Regnant of England.

 

John came from a family of intelligent, active women. In fact, the earldom of Devonshire had been gained by the machinations of a woman. Not her marriage but by her political efforts. Both Devonshire’s mother and the previous Lady Newcastle had published books under their own names. This was abnormal. But it was John’s experience of the world.

 

John laughed, “I shall l-l-leave it to the merchants and commoners then.” John would never appear to have too keen an interest in mercantile matters. John knew that trade treaties had trailed the King’s marriage to Catherine. He thought they had with his current wife. He supposed he would just have to wait and see, for if Lady Ormonde knew anything she wasn’t sharing.

 

John chuckled at the Northern Secretary, “Nothing so formal. I’m j-j-just curious. I live very close to the Netherlands. It naturally draws my interest. Like a neighbor.”

 

John felt their conversation was slowly drawing to a close, “Do you have any advice… for the next time I’m in the Netherlands?” John asked, particularly hoping she might be able to handle her brother.

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There was little doubt that women were wily and clever creatures. Some were as adept at politics as they were with gossip. The Duchess of Ormonde seemed to be less interested in such things. Perhaps being married to a tyrant sapped her energy for such sport; or perhaps she did not aspire to such things.

 

John asked about advice when visiting the United Provinces again. She did not think he was asking about her brother or anything serious. Instead she laughed "bring back food. Stroopwafels, liquorice, and pannekoeken," she offered cheerfully. "My cook is making oliebollen for the girls all Christmas season. It is a tradition. Did you have any while you were there? They are best with apples, dates or raisins." Once her laughter subsided she added "if you are going to Amsterdam let me know. I shall send a letter to my brother with you."

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In fact, John was quite pleased by her answer. He was asking for how to handle her brother not in some grand political sense but in the sense that… well, the two had started on bad terms due to his intrigues. They’d then reached détente. John would prefer the man thought well of him. Her reply served admirably.

 

“I d-d-did. The liquorice was… d-d-divine.” John said, smile wide. He had a fondness for sweets. “Would you l-l-like some… fresh apples?” Preserved apples were easy to lay hands on in winter. Fresh ones required facilities and a skilled husbandman.

 

“I am g-g-going after the season ends.” John said. “At least for… a little while. I’d be glad to see he gets it.” His sisters had to finish their educations and John would probably deposit them safely with their benefactors. Even if he didn’t, his sister could carry it.

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Amelia had guessed correctly that the young lord had a sweet tooth; but then, so many did. "We have several fresh apples from our orangery, but these are quite rare. You should save yours for someone without the means or ability to procure them for themselves,: she suggested. Christmas was a time for charity after all, not that she thought that he should give it to some random commoner, but to some lower ranked member of the gentry that might treasure it.

 

"Wonderful. Do send me a note about a week before you leave so that I might compose a letter to give you," she asked.

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"Oh of course," John said. "Some of them are going to a fundraiser to... build a stained glass window for St. Matthews of Friday Street." John left it unsaid they'd be grateful for further help.

 

"Any m-m-more surplus will go to local notables, here or at... home." Amelia might note that in speaking of notables John was including the higher sort of commoner as well as the lower sort of gentleman. But a Dutchwoman particularly might understand that John considered well off burghers and down at the heels gentlemen similar classes.

 

John nodded. He would send her a note. "It will be shortly after the... season is out."

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"Admirable," Amelia replied. It seemed as if their meeting was at an end. She would reach out to him to carry a note after the season ended.

 

"I shall contact you later then. I had best be heading back. A happy holiday to you Lord Maldon," she bid as she moved to take her leave.

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John smiled at Amelia’s praise, though it felt a bit clipped. He nodded as she left, “Happy holidays.” He continued strolling on, heading towards the building. He had another appointment.

 

OOC: Finis and thank you!

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