IT was, they said, not unusual for Chiffinch, Charles’s confidential servant, to bring certain charming visitors up the back stairs to his master’s bedroom.

Now the King lay upon his deathbed, however, the visitor was of another kind: a Roman Catholic priest named Fr Huddleston, who had once hidden him from a search-party of Cromwell’s troops during the Civil War.

James, Duke of York, had been too busy writing himself into his brother’s Will to notice that the Church of England’s clergy could not persuade Charles to receive holy communion at their hands; it was Louise, Duchess of Portsmouth and the King’s mistress, who brought it to his attention.

James bent low, and whispered something in the king’s ear, who replied for all to hear ‘Yes, yes, with all my heart.’

Charles’s mystified courtiers were shepherded out of the royal bedchamber, and left to exchange their suspicions in the corridor. Presently, the door opened; a glass of water was taken in; then it closed again.