Loyal in Love: Henrietta Maria, Queen of Charles I Read online

  When it started to rain I saw through this a way out and when Charles came I touched my headdress, which was very elaborate, and looked melancholy.

  He asked what was wrong and I said: “The rain will ruin this.”

  He gave one of those faint smiles of his and I knew that he was thinking I was rather an adorable child in spite of all my naughtiness and he touched my shoulder gently and said: “Very well, remain here and watch the procession from Whitehall.”

  I was delighted and settled down to do so, but very soon the Sieur de Blainville arrived. He looked very disturbed.

  “Is it true, my lady,” he asked, “that you have refused to go to the Buckingham house to see the procession as arranged?”

  “It is raining.”

  “It has stopped.”

  “Well, it was raining and I told the King it would spoil my headdress.”

  “That will not be acceptable to Buckingham.”

  “The King accepted it. He did not want me to spoil my headdress.”

  “You must leave here at once,” he said. “I will conduct you there. Do you realize that the situation between our two countries is very uneasy. The King your brother, your mother, the Cardinal…they are all seeking friendship with your husband. You must forgive my saying so, my lady, but your conduct does not help to bring about what we want.”

  He looked so serious and still a little worried about my action over the coronation that I said I would go with him at once.

  So he immediately conducted me to the Buckingham house.

  It is strange that when one does not mean to annoy one can do so more deeply than when one does. I had no idea that there could be such a storm over such a trivial matter. But of course it was Buckingham who made the mischief. When he saw that I was not with the King—so I heard from those present who had witnessed the scene—the Duke expressed great concern. He would know the real reason for my refusal to leave Whitehall Palace and that the rain had little to do with it. He was heard to tell the King that he could not hope to make much impression on Parliament if he allowed his own wife to flout him.

  Charles was rather angry then. He took a great deal of notice of Buckingham, and the Duke was on such familiar terms with him that he never hesitated to give him a hint of criticism if he wanted to. The result was that Charles sent a messenger back to Whitehall to say that I was to leave at once, but by the time the messenger arrived I had already left with the Sieur de Blainville.

  I knew what Buckingham’s comment was. He would point out that although I had refused the King’s request, I left immediately when commanded to do so by my fellow countryman.

  In those days Charles was unsure of himself. He was very shy and always afraid of losing his dignity. Looking back I see it all so clearly now. Buckingham had been his father’s favorite and had made himself Charles’s mentor, so he always listened to him and took great heed of what he said. Now, because of Buckingham’s suggestions, Charles sent a message to me telling me I was to return to Whitehall Palace for if I could not come when he was there to escort me I should not remain there.

  I was so thoughtless. It never occurred to me to try to understand the situation. I sent the messenger back to say that I preferred to remain where I was now, having made the journey in the company of the Sieur de Blainville.

  There was no doubt of the sternness of the command which was brought back to me. I was to return to Whitehall without more ado.

  I did realize then that this was blowing up into a storm and I thought it advisable to obey immediately, so back to Whitehall I went and, with my attendants, watched the procession from there as I had originally planned to do.

  That was not the end of the matter.

  I did not see the King for the rest of the day and that night he did not come to our bedchamber. In the morning there was a note from him stating that he was most distressed by my behavior and did not want to see me again until I begged his forgiveness for my conduct.

  I was astounded. “What have I done?” I demanded of Mamie. She understood how the incident had been misconstrued. It was much ado about nothing, she said. I could easily explain my innocence to the King, tell him that I really had been concerned about my headdress and when the Sieur de Blainville had explained to me that I would be offending the Buckinghams I had taken his advice and gone with him.

  “But it is all so silly,” I cried, stamping my foot in irritation. “What a fuss…and all about nothing. What did it matter how I went to the Buckinghams. I went, did I not? It was not that I wanted to, I can assure you.”

  “There is so much formality to be observed in your position.”

  “And wherever the Buckinghams are, there is trouble. Have you noticed that?”

  “I have. But surely you can explain exactly how it happened. The King will believe you. Go to him and tell him.”

  “Why shouldn’t he come to me?”

  “He is the King and your husband.”

  “I don’t intend to be his slave. He may be the son of a king, but I am the daughter of one…and my father was greater than his….”

  “Hush, child. You talk too wildly. You must remember where you are. Remember your position. Oh, my dearest, sometimes you frighten me.”

  “I will not be frightened by Buckingham, who is trying to make my husband hate me. Why, Mamie, why?”

  “I think the Duke of Buckingham held complete sway over the King’s father and now seeks to be in the same position with regard to your husband. I think he sees how the King’s affection for you is growing and seeks to undermine it, lest you should have more influence on the King than he does.”

  “The King’s affection for me! My influence on him! You are laughing at me, Mamie. What affection has he for me? What influence have I on him?”

  “Both could grow. I am sure of that. The King is ready to love you. It is for you to cherish that love. Now go to him and explain what happened and I am sure he will forgive you.”

  “But there is nothing to forgive, Mamie. Why should I grovel to him. Let him come and ask my pardon.”

  “Kings do not ask pardon.”

  “Nor do Queens.”

  Mamie sighed. She knew my obstinacy.

  A few days passed and still the King made no move to see me. I was surprised to find that I was somewhat piqued and that I missed him a little. I was impatient always and impulsive, and I hated long waiting and silences. So in due course I asked if he would see me.

  The answer came back immediately. He would be most pleased to receive me.

  When I stood before him I saw that his eyes shone with a certain pleasure. I knew that he was getting ready to forgive me when I told him I had done wrong, but I had done no wrong and I was not going to say so. All I wanted to do was end the waiting. I hated going to my apartment at night and not knowing whether he was going to join me. I did begin to wonder whether I wanted him to. All I knew was that I did not greatly enjoy those lonely nights of uncertainty.

  I faced him boldly. I said: “I do not know what I have done to merit your displeasure. I had no intention of doing so. But if I have offended you I would ask you to forget it.”

  I think he was as eager for reconciliation as I was, for he smiled that faint smile and embraced me.

  “The incident is over and done with,” he said.

  It was not, however, the end for poor Blainville. He was first of all not permitted to come to Court and as this was an impossible situation for an ambassador to find himself in he was recalled to France. I was very sorry for him. It had come about through no fault of his and I knew that he would be accused of failing in his duties when he returned home.

  The Maréchal de Bassompierre was sent to England in his place. He had been a very old and faithful friend of my father and was in fact the man who had been betrothed to Charlotte de Montmorency and had given her up when my father had wanted to make her his mistress. He had served France well and I soon realized that I should get frank speaking from him. He made it clear that my
behavior was not what it should be and that I would have to improve.

  It was a trying time. In spite of all my protests, three Englishwomen had been made ladies of my bedchamber though none of my French servants had been dismissed. The English ladies were the Duchess of Buckingham and the Countesses of Denbigh and Carlisle.

  Mamie felt it was ominous and I became aware of how worried she was.

  I was less so, still confident of getting my own way. I was very sullen with the three new ladies-in-waiting for the first week or so and refused to speak to them except when it was absolutely necessary, but gradually I began to take notice of them for they were, I discovered, three unusual ladies.

  Buckingham’s wife seemed to be quite interested in the Catholic Faith and began to ask me questions about it. She was by no means skeptical and I found that I quite enjoyed talking to her; I often wondered how she came to marry her odious husband but marriages were arranged for us poor females and we had to make the best of what came our way. Her sister-in-law the Countess of Denbigh also questioned me about the Faith, and they both listened attentively and were really interested in what I had to tell them. They were very deferential too and in spite of the fact that one was the wife of Buckingham and one his sister, I quite liked them. Best of the three though, I liked Lucy Hay, the Countess of Carlisle. She was a very interesting and beautiful woman. She was about ten years older than I and came from the Percy family, her father being the Earl of Northumberland. She had made a very romantic marriage after falling in love with James Hay who became the Earl of Carlisle. Her family had objected to the marriage and it would never have taken place but for the fact that her father had become a prisoner in the Tower of London and the Earl of Carlisle brought about his release, making it a condition that he marry Lucy. I liked her because she was outstandingly beautiful as well as being witty and amusing.

  It was suddenly borne home to me that I could like some of the English and as long as none of the friends I had brought with me from France was sent away, I could welcome these three interesting ladies into my household.

  In spite of the fact that I was growing quite fond of Buckingham’s wife and sister I hated him more than ever. I was convinced that he made the King dissatisfied with me and I became even more sure of this when Mamie came to me in some distress and told me he had talked to her.

  “Of what?” I demanded.

  “Of you and the King.”

  “How dare he!”

  “He would dare anything. The King can see no wrong in him. The fact is that Buckingham tells me the King is not at all satisfied with you.”

  “You mean he has told Buckingham to inform you of this?” I could feel my temper rising.

  “Now you must calm yourself. He says that you disappoint the King in the bedchamber.”

  I felt myself go hot with shame and anger.

  “How dare he!”

  “He says it is what the King has confided in him. He says you seem affable enough during the day but at night you become distinctly cold, and that does not please the King.”

  “It is for the King to make me affectionate toward him. I shall tell him he will not do so through his ambassador Buckingham.”

  “I pray you be calm. Let us think of this clearly. How…how is it with you and the King?”

  I burst out: “I should have thought that was a matter between the King and me…and us two only.”

  “It is. It is. But you see the King has spoken to Buckingham.”

  “Mamie,” I said, “do you really think the King has spoken to Buckingham…or is it one of the Duke’s fabrications?”

  She was thoughtful. Then she said: “If you tell me that all is well between you and the King…at night….”

  “As far as I know. I submit…though I do not like it very much.”

  “Perhaps that is not enough.”

  “But to tell Buckingham….”

  “If he did,” put in Mamie.

  “Mamie, I know that the King and I will never be happy together while Buckingham is here. I am certain that he is going to do everything he can to drive us apart.”

  “And if there were no Buckingham…do you think that you could grow to love the King?”

  “I don’t know. Life seemed so much happier when Buckingham was not here.”

  “You are not dissatisfied with your new bedchamber ladies?”

  “No. I like them very much. Particularly Lucy.”

  “We must not allow Buckingham to influence the King.”

  “How shall we stop him?”

  “I don’t know but we can pray for a miracle.”

  I was deeply disturbed that the King had spoken of our most intimate relationship with the Duke. But had he? I could not be really sure of this and for once I did not jump to conclusions. But I was more and more wary of Buckingham and I was beginning to believe that but for him we might have avoided quite a number of the storms which had blown up and were threatening to wreck our marriage.

  That last affair was, I was sure, a result of his interference.

  His determination to harm me was becoming even more obvious. One day he dared ask for a private audience with me. Reluctantly I gave it and immediately wished I had not. He was an extremely handsome man—indeed he owed his rise to power to his personal appearance—and his confidence gave him an air of royalty. I was sure he thought himself of far greater importance than anyone at Court—even the King himself.

  He quickly threw off the formalities and began to talk to me very intimately in a manner which infuriated me more and more every second.

  “I know, my dear lady, that the relationship between you and the King is not quite what it should be. Oh, you are beautiful, there is no doubt of that…and you are regal being the daughter of a king, but you are young…so very young….”

  “I grow older every day, sir,” I told him with some asperity, “and my vision grows clearer.”

  He laughed rather heartily.

  “Dearest lady, you are enchanting. I know where the complaint lies.”

  “Complaint, sir. Of what complaint do you speak?”

  “You are so fresh, so young, so innocent. Naturally, I tell the King you need to be guided in the ways of love.”

  I was too astonished to speak.

  “Love!” he said. “Ah, one needs to be skilled in the art to discover its full delights. Perhaps the King is more practiced in the realms of state than in the bedchamber. Perhaps…”

  He had moved nearer to me and there was no mistaking the gleam in his eyes. Was this, I wondered, how he had approached my sister-in-law? What was he suggesting? That I learn how to be what he called “satisfactory” with Charles through Buckingham?

  It was monstrous. What would Charles think of this subject of his if I told him what Buckingham had suggested to me…well, not so much suggested as implied.

  “My Lord Buckingham,” I cried shrilly, “stand away from me. Your conduct is atrocious. I wonder what the King will say when I tell him what you have suggested to me.”

  He stood back, his eyebrows raised, his face a mask of bewilderment. “My lady, I do not understand you. Suggested? What do you think I have suggested?”

  “Your remarks about matters which are completely between the King and myself are offensive.”

  “Forgive me…I just thought a little word—That was all that was in my mind. I swear it. What could you have imagined? You must realize that I have no idea why you should be so offended.”

  The man was a monster, a snake in the grass and I must beware of his venom.

  “I merely wished to talk to you about your attitude to the faith which prevails in this country. I merely wanted to advise you. The matter of the Countess of Denbigh’s service at Tichfield….”

  “That is long ago. The Countess bears no rancor and has now become my friend.”

  “I am happy about that as it brings me to another matter which I know gives the King a great deal of concern. He wants you to send your French attendants back t
o France.”

  “That is something I shall never do.”

  “You would find many English ladies who would be happy to replace them.”

  “I am very happy as we are. Thank you for your concern. But it is my affair as to whom I shall choose to serve me.”

  “I trust that you speak a little English now that you have three English ladies of the bedchamber.”

  “I do, but there again I do not see that it is any great concern of yours.”

  “I speak only for your own good. My great wish is to please you.”

  “Then,” I said firmly, “I will tell you how you may give me the greatest pleasure. It is very simple. All you have to do is go.”

  With that he went, leaving me very uneasy.

  I should have realized that we were working toward a climax, but my trouble in those days was that I never looked beyond the immediate moment. If I scored a little victory I thought I had won the war—though why there should be a war between husband and wife I cannot now see.

  It was June and we were at Whitehall. The afternoon was warm and beautiful—just the day for taking a walk in the park near the palace. Father Sancy walked with me and he was admonishing me for some petty demeanor. I was not listening to him but thinking how beautiful the trees were and what a lovely day it was. Mamie was walking on the other side of me when we strayed away from the park. We came to the gallows at Tyburn, which had always filled me with horror because so many people had died miserably there—some, I knew, for their Faith. It was not long ago when those good Catholics who had set out to blow up the Houses of Parliament had died most brutally. All they had wished to do was establish the Catholic Faith in this heretic land, which was what I wanted to do.

  I mentioned this. Mamie frowned. She hated me to speak in this way. She was a good Catholic, of course, but she was more ready to respect the beliefs of others than I was. Father Sancy grew rather fierce talking of the people who had died for their faith at Tyburn and suggested that we approach and say a short prayer for their souls.

  So I agreed and we did so.

  I suppose nothing a queen does can go unnoticed. Of course I was seen and as I appeared to have enemies everywhere, the incident was embellished and distorted out of all proportion to what had actually taken place. Stories were circulated about the Court and the city. I heard that I had done penance at Tyburn; I had walked barefoot carrying a candle. I had set up an altar there; I had said Mass; I had prayed to the Virgin and the saints for the souls of those I called Martyrs and whom the English called criminals.