Albion Rising: A Henry Frederick Timeline
- Thread starter VVD0D95
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By this point Maurice is not Prince of Orange, his elder brother is still alive (and married to Prince of Conde sister).
Maurice is Stadtholder, but would not become the Prince of Orange until 1618.
Swedish marriage, thus, makes sense - as dynastically the status of Maurice is the same as Catherine's OTL groom, though politically he is of much higher importance (and Dutch merchants are salivating at thought of Swedish iron at cheap price).
And Polish match for Spain means that a lot of grain trade would be intended for Spain, license to print money for some magnates - PLC was one of major grain producers at the time.
VVD0D95
Banned
Indeed, the decent man comment comes from my rather basic understanding that Philip WIlliam tried to do his best by his people where he could.
Chapter 49: O'Doherty
VVD0D95
Banned
Chapter 49: O’Doherty
April, 1611
The sun warmed him as he walked across St James’ Park. Prince Henry had granted him special permission to do that, so that he could go and get some things from the small house he owned on the other end of the park. As he walked, Cahir found himself thinking about his wife and their children. Mary and their son and daughter would be coming to London in a few weeks, and Cahir was excited.
He’d written to them almost everyday since he’d left Inishowen three years ago, and had taken comfort in their replies, but to actually get the chance to see them, to physically hold them and touch them? That was something else entirely. He couldn’t wait.
And to think that all of that could’ve been taken from him if he’d decided to rebel as that idiot Paulet had wanted him to. Cahir had been lucky, his application for the Household of Prince Henry had arrived a few days before he’d been scheduled to meet with his foster-father. The acceptance and Mary’s urging had convinced him to go. If the letter hadn’t come when it had, Cahir didn’t know what would’ve happened.
“Excuse me, Sir, you wouldn’t happen to know where I could get some good eggs here, do you?” A voice asked.
Cahir blinked and turned to his right, and found himself looking at a kindly old man, with a scraggly beard and long flowing auburn hair. Cahir nodded. “At the end of the park, turn right, and then take a sharp left. You’ll find Mary’s Hen House, a great place for eggs.”
“Thank you.” The man said, though he didn’t immediately make to leave. Indeed, the fact he was in the park when you needed approval from Prince Henry to enter the park, and Cahir wasn’t sure if the Prince would’ve granted this man such approval. Cahir blinked as a camel walked past.[1]
He’d also noticed that the man’s accent was odd. He wasn’t from here. “Where are you from?” Cahir asked by way of trying to figure out the man.
“Dunaff, Sir.” The man replied. “And yourself?”
“You’re from Dunaff?” Cahir replied surprised. He’d never met anyone from that little village in London before. He switched to Gaelic and asked. “What are you doing so far from home?”
“Exploring the world, Sir.” The man said, also in Gaelic. “I’m trying to understand something.”
“And what is it that you’re trying to understand?” Cahir asked.
The man’s eyes narrowed then. “What it is that the English have that makes us all so willing to bend the knee to them.”
Cahir’s eyes widened; the way the man’s tone had hardened when he’d answered made him think that this was no ordinary man. Immediately, he glanced around. There was nobody else in the park apart from the two of them and the animals. “Who are you?” Cahir asked then.
“A man from Dunaff, Sir.” The man answered smiling, his voice soft.
“What do you want?” Cahir asked.
“I told you, Sir, to understand what the English have that makes us so willing to bend the knee.” The man replied.
“No,” Cahir replied, his tone hardening. “What do you want with me?”
He expected the man to demur and say something about being harmless, that’s what would happen at court, but instead, the man said. “I want to make you an offer, Sir.”
“What sort of offer?” Cahir asked, he wouldn’t agree to it, but he wanted to know what this man was after.
“I want to give you the chance to free your people from English subjugation.” The man said.
Cahir laughed. “My people are not under English subjugation. I still rule them.” And the English gave him a fair amount of leeway in that regard, as long as he stuck to some basic customs and rules.
“That is not ruling, that is acting as someone’s lapdog.” The man said.
“Watch your tone!” Cahir snapped; his anger was starting to rise. Who was this man?
“You know it is true, Sir. The English have you on a leash and the only way to remove it is to do what I suggest.” The man said.
This is a trap. Cahir realised. The man had likely followed him since he’d left the Palace, no doubt with some sort of sinister intention. Was this a test from the Prince? Or from one of the Prince’s enemies? Carr? Who?
Tentatively, he asked. “What do you suggest then?”
“There are those in Ireland who are waiting for a leader, for someone to guide them to freedom. They are preparing for a rising and they need you, Sir. You are the one who they want to lead them to the promised land.” The man said.
“Why?” Cahir asked.
“Because you know the English, you know how they think, how they operate, and you know their weaknesses. Plus, your clan is completely loyal to you, Sir. That is something that no other native chieftain remaining can say.” The man replied.
This is definitely a trap. Cahir thought to himself, but aloud he merely asked. “And say I went ahead with this, what else would I need to do?”
“Ride north to Manchester, board a ship captained by a man named Morgan, and then travel to Inishowen. Raise your clan, and then march south for Dublin. The others will join you.” The man said.
“What others?” Cahir asked.
“O’Donnell, MacCafferty and many more, they are just waiting for you to make the first move.” The man said.
“Why?” Cahir asked, he was convinced that this was a trap now. He would tell the Prince about this the moment he got back to the Palace, he just needed to get this man’s name.
“Because of what I have said before.” The man said.
“I see.” Cahir replied. “And what is your name?” The man frowned at him and so Cahir elaborated. “If we are to work together, I need to know your name.”
“Lachlan O’Sullivan.” The man replied.
Spanish, he’s bloody Spanish. Cahir realised. The O’Sullivans or a branch of the family had fought in the Nine Years War and had fled to Spain when that war had ended. So, that’s what this was. The Spanish were trying to create chaos. Well, he wouldn’t give it to them. He plastered on a smile and said. “I need to think, I will let you know, Lachlan.”
Lachlan nodded. “Of course, Sir, do not take too long though.”
“Of course.” Cahir said. “Good day.” He walked onward, moving quickly. His mind racing. He’d need to tell Henry as soon as he could, the consequences of this would be huge.
[1] No, you’re not imagining. King James kept camels, elephants, crocodiles and exotic birds in the Park. Maybe even a lion or two 😉
I hope Cahir doesn’t leap before he looks. O’Sullivan seems like the kind of guy to question Cahir’s allegiance to his clan if he stays which could cause Cahir to follow blindly. My spider senses are tingling and I sense a trap.
Also Cahir has a family to think about, hopefully he realizes that the time for independence is not now but later.
Cahir seems pretty grateful about being able to serve Henry so unless his family is captured and held hostage, I don’t see how he would cooperate.
Chapter 50: A King's Decision
VVD0D95
Banned
Chapter 50: A King’s Decision
April, 1611
“His Highness the Prince of Wales and Sir Cahir O’Doherty have arrived, Sire.” The guard said.
“Show them in.” James commanded. He exhaled as the guard bowed and then departed to do just that. His son had sent a messenger about an hour ago, telling him that Sir Cahir had experienced something strange in St James’s Park and that he believed it was related to the Spanish. James was wary of such a thing, he knew how much his son despised Spain, and plus Cahir was Irish, the Irish were not famed for truth telling. At least that’s what some of the Englishmen at court believed.
And yet James had agreed to hear them out. After all, his son never lied, and he trusted Sir Cahir, so, James would give the man the benefit of the doubt.
The door opened again and the guard stepped in to announce. “His Highness the Prince of Wales, and Sir Cahir O’Doherty.” James nodded as the guard bowed and stepped to one side. His son, Henry came bounding in, he was tall, handsome and everything that James was not. If he were a lesser man, James would be jealous, but he was proud of his son. Cahir O’Doherty was about as tall, if not taller than Henry and stood with a mop of unruly hair that shifted between auburn and blonde depending on the light.
Both men bowed. “Your Majesty.” They said.
James nodded to them and bid them rise. He had no time for ceremony, not when something as important as this was before him. “So, you said you had something you wished to discuss. Something important?”
“Yes, Sire.” Henry answered. “Sir Cahir was walking to get something from his house off the corner of St James’s Park when he was stopped by a man who asked him several odd questions. These questions caused Sir Cahir to come to me with the story, and for me to come to Your Majesty. I believe that this is a matter of grave urgency.”
James nodded, then looked at Sir Cahir. “Well, what happened?”
Sir Cahir took a breath and then as clearly and concisely as possible he spoke. “As His Highness said, I was walking through St James Park, on my way back to the house I own, when someone stopped me asking where he could buy some eggs. I told him, but I noticed that he had an accent, an accent I recognised as coming from Inishowen. So, I asked him where he was from. He replied saying he was from Dunaff, which is a small village under my lordship. I asked him what he was doing here. He replied stating that he wanted to know what the English had that made us all so willing to bend the knee to them.”
James was frowned, was this one of Tyrone’s men? “What happened then?”
“Well, by this point we had switched to Gaelic and I asked him who he was. He replied that he was a man from Dunaff, he said it innocently enough, but from how he’d spoken before I was suspicious, so I asked him what he wanted.” Sir Cahir replied.
“And what did he say?” James asked.
Sir Cahir took a deep breath. “He said that he had an offer he wanted to make me.”
“And what offer was this?” James asked.
“He wanted to give me a chance to ‘free my people from English subjugation’, when I pointed out that my people were not under English subjugation, he laughed. He claimed that I was no better than Your Majesty’s lapdog.” Sir Cahir said, his tone hardening as he spoke. James said nothing, merely waited for the man to continue. “I asked him how he proposed I do this.”
“And?” James asked.
“He then said that if I travelled to Inishowen and raised my clan and marched on Dublin, others would join me. He mentioned the O’Donnells and the MacCafferty. And others as well.” Sir Cahir replied.
James nodded, this was quite unexpected. How had this man managed to get through Salisbury’s spy network? Was he already part of some underground movement within Ireland and had he crossed over that way? “What did you say in response?” He eventually asked.
“I asked him his name and then said that I would need time to consider.” Sir Cahir replied.
“What was his name?” James asked.
“Lachlan O’Sullivan.” Sir Cahir replied.
“O’Sullivan?” James said, the name sounded familiar but he couldn’t place it.
“The family fought in the Nine Years War, Sire.” Sir Cahir said.
“Ah, yes.” James said. The Nine Years War, which had led to Tyrone and Tyrconnell fleeing after he’d made overtures for peace.
James digested this information, so a member of a family that had fled Ireland for Spain had approached one of the most loyal Gaelic chieftains to try and get him to rebel. That man had then come to James to present this to him, showing his loyalty. James should be impressed, but there were questions that he had that he wanted answering. “Why did you speak to him in Gaelic?” He asked.
Sir Cahir didn’t even blink before he answered. “Because I heard his accent and I got suspicious.”
“Why did you get suspicious?” James asked.
“Because he was an Irishmen in St James’s Park, and you need permission from His Highness the Prince of Wales to enter the park, and I would have known if another Irishman had requested permission.” Sir Cahir said.
James looked at Henry who nodded, and then he turned back to Sir Cahir. “And why would he approach you?”
“I believe it is because of my position in Prince Henry’s court, Sire. I am a trusted friend and advisor. I think he thought I’d know more about the ins and outs of things and thus would be more useful.” Sir Cahir said.
“And would you?” James asked.
“Sire?” Sir Cahir replied, frowning.
“Would you turn to them?” James asked leaning forward intrigued.
Sir Cahir didn’t even blink when he answered. “No. My loyalty is to Your Majesty and to Your Majesty’s descendants. I will not turn traitor.”
James leaned back. “Good.”
A moment passed and then another, then Henry spoke. “So, what happens now?”
James looked at his son and said. “I shall bring this up at the next council meeting and hear what my councillors have to say. We will not rush into anything.”
Henry opened his mouth to protest, and so James pressed on. “We must discuss all options before deciding on the right course. For the good of the Kingdom.”
Happy birthday! And enjoy your holiday!So, it's my birthday today, and I'm heading off on holiday for a few days, so there won't be an update for a while. Hope that's okay with you allHope you're enjoying the story so far.
Happy birthday and enjoy your holidaySo, it's my birthday today, and I'm heading off on holiday for a few days, so there won't be an update for a while. Hope that's okay with you all
