Anne Marshall – actress in the King’s Company. Probably the first English woman to appear on the professional stage.
Rebecca Marshall, also referred to as Beck – actress in the King’s Company.
Moll Davis – actress in the Duke’s Company. Mistress of King Charles, and a rival of Nell’s.
Mary Meggs, known as Orange Moll – holder of the concession to sell oranges and sweetmeats at the Theatre Royal.
Margaret Hughes, also referred to as Peg – actress in the King’s Company and friend of Nell.
Edward Kynaston, also referred to as Ned – actor in the King’s Company.
Elizabeth Barry, also referred to as Betty – actress with the Duke’s Company and mistress of the Earl of Rochester.
Marmaduke Watson – young actor in the King’s Company.
Theophilus Bird, referred to as Theo – young actor in the King’s Company, son of an actor by the same name.
Nicholas Burt – old actor in the King’s Company.
William Cartwright – old actor in the King’s Company.
Frances Davenport, also referred to as Franki – actress in the King’s Company. Sister of Elizabeth.
Elizabeth Davenport, also referred to as Betty – actress in the King’s Company. Sister of Frances.
Elizabeth Weaver – actress in the King’s Company.
Betty Hall – actress in the King’s Company.
Richard Bell – actor in the King’s Company.
Anne Reeves – young actress in the King’s Company and mistress of John Dryden.
Matt Kempton – scenekeeper at the Theatre Royal.
Willie Taimes – scenekeeper at the Theatre Royal.
Richard Baxter – scenekeeper at the Theatre Royal.
Sir Edward Howard – playwright.
Charles II – king of England. Succeeded to throne upon execution of his father Charles I in 1649. Restored to the throne 1660.
Catherine of Braganza – Charles II’s queen, who had been the Infanta of Portugal.
James, the Duke of York – younger brother of Charles II and later King James II.
George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham – intimate of King Charles. Friend and advisor of Nell. Playwright, poet, politician.
John Wilmot, Earl of Rochester – intimate friend of King Charles and Nell. Poet and playwright.
Charles Sackville, Lord Buckhurst, Earl of Dorset and Middlesex – poet and playwright.
Sir Charles Sedley – playwright, and a friend of Dorset and Rochester. Known to his friends as ‘Little Sid’.
Barbara Villiers Palmer, Lady Castlemaine, Duchess of Cleveland – longtime mistress of Charles II.
Louise de Keroualle, Duchess of Portsmouth – unpopular French mistress of Charles II.
Hortense Mancini, Duchess Mazarin – tempestuous mistress of Charles II, who he had wanted to marry as a young man.
James Crofts, Duke of Monmouth – illegitimate son and oldest child of Charles II. Friend of Nell. The namesake of Nell’s little boy Jemmy.
Sir Henry Savile – courtier and friend of Nell’s. Charles’s Envoy Extraordinaire to France.
Anna Maria, Countess of Shrewsbury – mistress of the Duke of Buckingham and mother of his child, the Earl of Coventry, who died as an infant.
Lady Diana de Vere – Daughter of Aubrey de Vere, the twentieth and last Earl of Oxford.
NELL’S HOUSEHOLD
Meg – longtime servant of Nell.
Bridget – longtime servant of Nell.
Thomas Groundes – Nell’s steward.
John – Nell’s coachman.
Tom – Nell’s chair man.
Fleetwood Shepard – courtier and poet. Tutor to Nell’s boys.
Thomas Otway – playwright and tutor to Nell’s boys.
OTHER FRIENDS AND ADVISORS
Samuel Pepys, also referred to as Sam – theatre aficionado, friend of Nell, and well acquainted with the king, Duke of York, and others at court through his position as Clerk of the Acts of the Navy Board.
Dr. Thomas Tenison – vicar of St. Martin-in-the-Fields and spiritual advisor to Nell.
CHAPTER ONE
London—Twenty-Ninth of May, 1660
THE SUN SHONE HOT AND BRIGHT IN THE GLORIOUS MAY SKY, AND THE streets of London were rivers of joyous activity. Merchants and labourers, gentlemen and ladies, apprentices and servants, whores, thieves, and grimy urchins—all were out in their thousands. And all with the same thought shining in their minds and hearts and the same words on their tongues—the king comes back this day.
After ten years—nay, it was more—of England without a king. Ten years of the bleak and grey existence that life had been under the Protector—an odd title for one who had thrown the country into strife, had arrested and then beheaded King Charles. What a groan had gone up from the crowd that day at the final, fatal sound of the executioner’s axe; what horror and black despair had filled their hearts as the bleeding head of the king was held aloft in triumph. And all upon the order of the Protector, who had savaged life as it had been, and then, after all, had thought to take the throne for himself.
But now he was gone. Oliver Cromwell was dead, his son had fled after a halfhearted attempt at governing, his partisans were scattered, and the king’s son, Charles II, who had barely escaped with his life to years of impoverished exile, was approaching London to claim his crown, on this, his thirtieth birthday. And after so long a wait, such suffering and loss, what wrongs could there be that the return of the king could not put right?
TEN-YEAR-OLD NELL GWYNN AWOKE, THE WARMTH OF THE SUN ON HER back in contrast to the dank coolness of the straw on which she lay under the shelter of a rickety staircase. She rolled over, and the movement hurt. Her body ached from the beating her mother had given her the night before. Legs and backside remembered the blows of the broomstick, and her face was bruised and tender from the slaps. Tears had mingled on her cheeks with dust. She tried to wipe the dirt away, but her hands were just as bad, grimy and still smelling of oysters.
Oysters. That was the cause of all this pain. Yesterday evening, she’d stopped on her way home to watch as garlands of flowers were strung on one of the triumphal arches that had been erected in anticipation of the king’s arrival. Caught up in the excitement, she had forgotten to be vigilant, and her oyster barrow had been stolen. She’d crept home unwillingly, hoped that the night would be one of the many when her mother had been drinking so heavily that she was already unconscious, or one of the few when the drink made her buoyant and forgiving. But no. Not even the festive mood taking hold of London had leavened her reaction to the loss of the barrow. Replacing it would cost five shillings, as much as Nell earned in a week. And her mother had seemed determined to beat into Nell’s hide the understanding of that cost.
Nell had no tears today. She was only angry, and determined that she would not be beaten again. She sat up and brushed the straw out of her skirt, clawed it out of the curls of her hair. And thought about what to do next. She wanted to find Rose, her dear older sister, with whom she’d planned so long for this day. And she was hungry. With no money and no prospect of getting any.
At