The contrast is admittedly fatuous but still intriguing. King Charles III’s accession to the throne is a sombre, formal affair imbued with widespread public sadness at the death of his mother, Queen Elizabeth II. For the last King Charles, Charles II, the circumstances were very different, with his country having been through even more upheaval and division than that experienced here since 2016.
Nevertheless, the so-called ‘merry monarch’ returned from exile to London on May 29th, 1660 – which also happened to be his 30th birthday – to usher in the Restoration era of slightly dubious fame and close the chapter on the Civil War years.
Among his supporters (though not actually present in London on the day the King returned) was Samuel Pepys, a man who, like Charles II, had a clear lust for life – as his diaries amply demonstrate. The diaries begin in January 1660, just as public opinion was moving in favour of Restoration as an antidote to the exhausting uncertainty following Oliver Cromwell’s death. As Pepys’ patron, Lord Montagu, was high up in the Navy, Pepys had a close-up view of events and recorded how happy he was when Parliament voted to restore the monarchy at the start of May. Montagu was assigned the task of collecting the King from exile in Holland and summoned Pepys to accompany him on the voyage.
It sounds much like a pre-pandemic business jolly at times: Pepys records an attempted pub crawl in Deal before setting off; a drinking session on board “very merry till almost one a-clock [sic] in the morning”; and losing five shillings at ninepins. By May 14th, the Dutch coast was reached and there followed a few days of preparation for the triumphant Royal return.
In his entry for May 17th, Pepys writes of finally meeting the King who he describes as seeming to be “a very sober man”; subsequent behaviour would rule this out as an epitaph. Five days later, with news that the King was coming to board one of the ships, the whole fleet fired their guns in his honour. Pepys got in on the act too, firing the gun nearest to his cabin and almost blinding himself in the process “by holding my head too much over the gun”.
Somewhat red-eyed presumably, Pepys was nevertheless on hand to witness one of Charles’ first acts as King. One of the ships in the welcome party had left England with the name Naseby, which suggests a glaring lack of tact; Charles promptly swapped it for Charles, which suggests a glaring surfeit of ego or, more charitably, a nod to his executed father.
That done, Pepys records that “with a fresh gale and most happy weather we set sail for England”. Charles passed some of the journey with tales of his incognito travails after the Battle of Worcester, which included being forced to drink to the health of “the King” by a royal loyalist who did not recognise him. Charles was apparently informed by his drinking companion that he was “four fingers” shorter than the fugitive King – a foreshadowing perhaps of celebrities in the flesh never appearing to be as tall as they look on TV. Pepys writes that he was “ready to weep” to hear of the King travelling on foot for several days “up to the knees in dirt with nothing but a green coat and a pair of country breeches on” and boots that hurt his feet. What proportion of his sympathy was in relation to the green coat or painful boots is not made clear.
On the 25th, the King was brought ashore at Dover, Pepys among those following and accompanied by a dog “which shit in the boat”, raising a great laugh and providing evidence that toilet humour is quite possibly both timeless and classless. General Monke, whose army had enabled the Restoration to go ahead, was there to greet Charles as was the Mayor of Dover who presented the King with a bible. According to Pepys, Charles accepted the gift saying that it was “the thing he loved above all things in the world”, which doesn’t quite fit with the image we have of him today.
Four days later, Charles arrived in London and Pepys felt able to state in his diary at the end of the month that “all the world” was in a “merry mood” as a result. Parliament soon decreed that May 29th would be kept as a day of thanksgiving for what Pepys called “our redemption from tyranny”. When Pepys himself reached London, he noted there was teasing gossip that he might get a knighthood – an honour that never came his way in the end, despite his subsequent accomplishments and achievements.
Charles, whether at the races, the theatre or court, continued to feature regularly in the diaries. The last entry mentioning the King directly is for May 19th 1669 and tells of the King’s sympathy for Pepys’ failing eyesight. Ten days later, Pepys’ records celebrating “the night with fireworks for the King’s birthday” once more; “and so home”.
SteveTLooksBack 