Loyal in Love: Henrietta Maria, Queen of Charles I

by Jean Plaidy

  The Earl of Holland warmly agreed with this. Their reasons were identical, but the Duke of Buckingham’s were more urgent than those of the Earl of Holland for the latter’s mistress would accompany the party to England so he would not be deprived of her company for some time. It was different with Buckingham; the Queen would leave us when we sailed, and he still had his courting to do, it seemed.

  “At least,” commented Mamie, “we hope so. I would not like to think that the royal House of France might have a little cuckoo in the nest…even though the little bird had the blood of such a noble Duke.”

  “For shame!” I cried.

  And she laughed at me. Her attitude had changed since “my marriage.” She referred to me often as “Your Majesty” and “the Queen,” and she behaved as though I had suddenly become experienced of the world, which was far from the truth of course.

  However we stayed at Amiens and, without the strict supervision of the Queen Mother, morals became more lax than usual.

  Ladies and gentlemen paired off and not always with their legal partners. We were lodged in a large mansion surrounding which were beautiful grounds and in which there was a walled garden. It was rather overgrown but there were paths through the trees, and it soon became the favorite haunt of lovers.

  One of my mother’s elderly women brought this to her notice and as a result orders were given that this garden should be kept locked at night. This could be quite easily managed for there was a gate leading to it. The key of the garden was left with the Captain of the Guard, who was ordered to make sure it was locked at dusk and not opened until the morning.

  I did not know what happened exactly, but it appeared that one night the Queen with some of her ladies ordered the Captain of the Guard to give her the key of the garden. He did not know what to do. The Queen Mother had said he was to keep it in his possession, but here was the Queen ordering it to be given up. Anne cajoled—she could be very persuasive—she threatened and she could be ominous. Poor man, he did what most men would have done in the circumstances; he gave up the key.

  Several ladies with their gallants were in the garden that night and among them was the mischievous Duchesse de Chevreuse with the Earl of Holland. In fact it was she who had put the idea of getting the key into Anne’s head. The Duchesse was a woman who lived dangerously, and like so many of her kind, not content with going the way she wanted to, she was anxious that others should follow her example. I believed she had urged the Queen to encourage Buckingham while her lover Holland did all he could to help the Duke to success with the Queen.

  I was not present on this occasion, of course. Why should I want to walk in the darkening gardens? I was in my bed, so only heard of the incident from my usual source; but I could be sure Mamie would get the entire story.

  “It was like this,” she said. “The ladies and gentlemen were in the garden walking through the paths to sequestered spots where they settled down to rest for a while. The Queen soon discovered that the Duke of Buckingham was her companion. Imagine them…wandering in the darkness. He would put his arm through hers and tell her how beautiful she was and mention that it was a great shame that the King should be so neglectful and seem unaware of her dazzling charms.”

  “Anne would like to hear that,” I commented.

  “Most young people would—particularly those who have an indifferent husband. The Queen is very young and my Lord Buckingham…well, he is not so young. He is thirty-three if he is a day and experienced in all ways of making love, so I have heard. Therefore one would have thought he would have been more subtle on this occasion. He had misjudged his…I was going to say victim…but perhaps it is lèse majesté to talk thus of the Queen.”

  “Oh, get on with the story,” I cried impatiently.

  “Well, suddenly a shrill scream rent the air. Imagine it! A moment of silence and then all the attendants running to the spot where the Queen stood…wide-eyed, hands across her breast as though to protect herself…and standing close by looking as near sheepish as such an arrogant Duke could look…my Lord Buckingham.”

  “What did it mean?” I asked.

  “It could mean only one thing. Our Duke made a mistake. He must have attempted to force his attentions on the Queen. He did not realize that all she wanted was words…gestures…certainly not actions. I will tell Your Majesty something: This will be the end of that little affair. Perhaps it is as well that it was only a little one. Queens, Your Majesty, must be beyond reproach.”

  The next day everyone was talking about the scream in the garden. I was glad no one mentioned it to my mother. I wondered what would have happened to the Captain of the Guard who had relinquished the key if she had known.

  My mother’s health improved a little but her doctors thought that the journey to Calais would be too tiring for her and bring on a recurrence of her malady so it was decided that she should come no farther. Gaston was the only member of my family who would go with me until I left French soil.

  Our waiting in Amiens had therefore been unnecessary for my mother rose from her sick bed and accompanied the party through the town and then took her leave of us.

  She embraced me with what seemed like real affection on parting. She told me that her thoughts would always be with me and she would follow my progress with the utmost attention. She entreated me to be a good wife and she trusted I would bear many children. I must always remember that I was royal—the daughter of a King and Queen of France. I must never forget the country of my birth, and there were no matters as important as my Faith and my royalty. I was going to a heretic land. God had selected me as he had St. Paul and St. Peter. I was to carry on with my duty and never cease until my husband and the whole of England were saved for the Truth.

  It seemed a daunting task, but I promised that I would do what I could and would always remember my Faith, my loyalty and my country.

  As she embraced me she thrust a letter into my hands.

  That night I read the letter. It was long and it stressed her love for me. She reminded me that I had lost my earthly father and only had God for my father now. I must never forget what I owed Him. He had given me to a great King and had sent me to England where He would require my services, and this would mean that, through what I did there, I could attain eternal salvation.

  “Remember that you are a daughter of the Church by baptism and that it is indeed the first and highest rank which you have or ever will have, since it is this which will give you your entrance into Heaven…. Be, after the example of St. Louis from whom you are descended, firm and zealous for religion, which you have been taught and for which your royal and holy ancestor exposed his life. Never listen to or suffer to be said in your presence aught in contradiction to your belief in God….”

  I read and reread that letter. I knew what was expected of me. I was going to a strange country. I was going to a husband whom I must strive to bring to the true Faith. I had a great responsibility.

  As I read the letter I swore to God and to myself that I would do everything in my power to bring the true Faith to England.

  The next night news was brought to us that there was plague at Calais and it would be dangerous for us to go there, so we must divert our course to Boulogne.

  Before we could set out next morning, the Duke of Buckingham came to me in a state of great urgency.

  “Your Majesty,” he said, “I have this morning received communications from King Charles. It will be necessary for me to return to Amiens that I may present these papers to the Queen Mother.”

  I was very well aware that he had received no papers, and I did in fact confirm this later when I discovered there had been no messenger from England. But Anne had stayed behind in Amiens with my mother and for that reason he wanted to go back to see her before he left for England.

  “You must admit,” said Mamie, “that our Duke is no laggard when it comes to love.”

  I was angry at the delay. It seemed that our journey was ill-fated. First there was my brother�
��s ill health, then my mother’s, and after that, plague at Calais, and now Buckingham was darting off to suit his whims.

  It was too much to be endured.

  I abused Buckingham in no quiet voice and it was some time before I would listen to Mamie’s pleas to calm myself.

  Then I began to wonder whether I was in any great hurry to leave my native land, and the enormity of what was happening to me was brought home to me. I felt there was a vague menace in the air. I was going into a strange land among strangers.

  So when Buckingham did return I was not so very eager to resume our journey, for every day…every hour that passed carried me farther away from the life I had known.

  At length we came to Boulogne. The ship was waiting for us and as I stepped aboard there was a discharge of ordnance to mark the significance of the occasion. Mamie was close beside me. She smiled at me reassuringly.

  I was on deck watching the coastline of my country slowly disappear from view and I felt afraid and very vulnerable on that seething gray sea. The ship lurched and Mamie persuaded me to go below.

  The uncomfortable journey seemed to go on interminably, but I think I was too emotionally disturbed to notice the discomforts as some of the others did.

  In due course we came close to land. I went on deck and had my first glimpse of the white cliffs.

  My new life had begun.

  DISCORD IN THE ROYAL APARTMENTS

  It was seven o’clock on that Sunday evening when I set foot on English soil. An assembly of gentlemen was waiting to receive me and an artificial bridge had been set up so that I could disembark easily. This, I was told, had been ordered by the King who was at that time at Canterbury, which was not very far from Dover, and there he was eagerly awaiting news of my arrival.

  I wondered then why he was not at Dover and would have impulsively asked this if I had not had to speak through an interpreter, for I felt more than a little annoyed that he had not been there to greet me.

  I was informed that a message would be sent to the King immediately to tell him of my coming and he should be with me in less than an hour.

  I replied—somewhat imperiously, Mamie said afterward—that I was too tired to receive anyone that evening. The journey had been exhausting and I needed food and rest.

  I was told that it should be as I wished and we proceeded at once to the castle where it had been arranged that I should spend the night.

  The castle was near the coast and I hated it from the moment I saw it. It was very gloomy, quite unlike the Louvre, Chenonceaux, Chambord…those castles to which I was accustomed, and as my footsteps rang out on the bare boards I noticed how shabby everything was.

  I said that I would retire to my apartments without delay for more than anything I needed rest. Perhaps some food could be brought for my lady of honor and myself. I made it clear that I wished to see no one until the morning.

  At least they seemed eager to comply with my wishes, and I was immediately conducted to my apartment. I gasped with horror when I saw it. There were tapestries on the walls but they were dingy and dusty. Mamie went to the bed and felt it. It was hard and lumpy. I had never seen such a bed in any of our French castles or palaces. And this was the room they had prepared for the Queen of England!

  “Never mind,” said Mamie. “Don’t get angry. You can change everything later. But just for tonight accept it.”

  “Don’t they want me here?”

  “Of course they want you! You have to remember that they do not live in the style that we do. They are barbarians compared with us.”

  “What of men like the Duke of Buckingham and the Earl of Holland? They are as elegant as any Frenchman.”

  “Perhaps it is just their castles which are different. But never mind about that now. We need rest. Everything will look better in the morning.”

  “I don’t think this place will ever look better. It will be worse when the sunlight picks out the horrors and shows them to us more clearly.”

  But as usual she soothed me. We ate a little together and then she helped me to bed.

  Tired as I was it was not easy to sleep. All the excitement I had felt through the wedding and festivities had disappeared and in its place was a growing apprehension.

  But Mamie was right. I did feel better in the daylight, for even though it showed up the threadbare state of the bedcurtains, it lit up those dark corners and eliminated the shadows which had been so disturbing on the previous night. Breakfast was brought to the apartment and Mamie and I were eating it when a messenger came into the room.

  He bowed respectfully, and said, “Pardon the intrusion, Your Majesty, but the King has arrived from Canterbury and he wishes you to know that he is waiting to see you.”

  I stood up. I would see him without delay. This was the moment for which I had been waiting ever since I had seen the portrait of him and knew I was to be his wife.

  Mamie was looking at me anxiously, warning me not to be over-impulsive. I smiled at her. “He is my husband,” I reminded her, “and I am naturally all eagerness to meet him.”

  She tidied my hair and smoothed my gown. “You look enchanting,” she whispered and kissed me.

  Then I descended the stairs to the hall.

  I was aware of a figure standing there and I went forward swiftly and was about to kneel and say what I had been taught I must say on our first meeting, that I had come to His Majesty’s country to be commanded by him…but the words would not come, my voice broke with emotion and I felt the tears gushing to my eyes, while he caught me up in his arms.

  He was very tender. He took his kerchief and wiped my eyes; then he kissed my forehead and my tear-stained cheeks…not once but several times.

  “Why,” he said softly in French, for I had no English, “I must kiss you until you cease to weep. You are not with enemies and strangers, you must know. It is God’s will that you and I are here and does He not tell you to leave your kindred and cling to your husband?”

  I nodded in agreement.

  “Well then,” he said gently. “All is well. As for myself…I will not be so much a master to you as a servant to cherish you and make you happy.”

  It seemed to me that no husband could have used kinder words and I began to feel better.

  “Now we will sit down and talk together,” he said. “You shall get to know me and you will realize that this marriage of ours is not a matter for sorrow but for joy.”

  He took my hand and led me to a window seat where we sat side by side.

  I was able to take a glance at him. He was of medium height and I was relieved that he was not very tall as that would have accentuated my low stature. He was not as handsome as the picture in the miniature, but he was pleasant looking. There was, however, a certain melancholy aspect about him which had not been apparent in the miniature and which alarmed me faintly.

  It might have been that I was a trifle disappointed in his looks but his kindness was comforting. He clearly did not seem disappointed in my looks, for I caught a glimpse of admiration in his eyes, and as others thought I was pretty I guessed he did too.

  It occurred to me then that my portrait might have underrated my attractions, for Mamie had often said that my vivacity was a very large part of my charm. I thought a little liveliness might have improved him. I definitely had the impression in that first half hour that he was inclined to be morose.

  He told me that we should leave for Canterbury later in the day and stay the night there. He had been there when he had heard of my arrival and had set out immediately, accomplishing the journey in half an hour, which was something of a record and showed his eagerness to be with his bride.

  “You must present me to your attendants who have come with you,” he said. “And I will present your English ones to you.”

  “I daresay I shall make mistakes,” I replied. “Matters are conducted differently here from the way they are in France, and I do not even know the language.”

  “You will quickly learn,” he reassur
ed me.

  “If I make mistakes you must tell me.”

  He smiled at me very gravely and tenderly. I wished he had joked a little though, brought some lightness into the conversation, but of course that was not his nature. I thought then, they could not have found a partner for me more different from myself.

  He took my hand and I stood up. I came up to his shoulder and I saw by the way he looked at me that he suspected I was wearing high heels to give me height. He must have heard exaggerated reports of my low stature.

  I said at once: “My heels are flat.” I raised my skirts and held out a foot to confirm this. “I stand on my own feet and have no help through art to make me taller. This high I am…neither taller nor lower.”

  He took my hand and kissed it.

  “You are beautiful,” he said. “I think ours will be a happy marriage.”

  I wondered even then. There was so much I did not know about England and I had already been amazed—as had my attendants—that they could have housed their Queen even for one night in that shabby old castle. And Charles my husband? He lacked the gaiety of Englishmen like the Duke of Buckingham and the Earl of Holland; there was something very serious indeed about him which I had already detected. Perhaps I should have rejoiced in that. I was not sure.

  I presented my attendants to him and he in turn introduced those whom he had chosen to attend me. These meetings passed off comfortably and it was not until the carriage arrived to take us to Canterbury that the trouble arose.

  I was walking with Charles, and Mamie was a pace or so behind, for I had told her to keep close and not lose sight of me.

  “I want to see you there all the time,” I had said, “that is until I get used to these people.”

  “Don’t worry,” she had replied. “I will be there.”

  The King’s coach was waiting and he took my hand and helped me in. I sat down and Mamie got in beside me. The King stared at her as though thunderstruck.