And in another poem there is one characteristic line:--

---- such radiant eyes,

Such lovely motion, and such sharp replies.

In a MS. letter of the times, the writer describes the queen as "nimble

and quick, black-eyed, brown-haired, and a brave lady."[203] In the MS.

journal of Sir Symonds D'Ewes, who saw the queen on her first arrival in

London, cold and puritanic as was that antiquary, he notices with some

warmth "the features of her face, which were much enlivened by her

radiant and sparkling black eye."[204] She appears to have possessed

French vivacity both in her manners and her conversation: in the history

of a queen, an accurate conception of her person enters for something.

Her talents were not of that order which could influence the revolutions

of a people. Her natural dispositions might have allowed her to become a

politician of the toilet, and she might have practised those slighter

artifices, which may be considered as so many political coquetries. But

Machiavelian principles, and involved intrigues, of which she has been

so freely accused, could never have entered into her character. At first

she tried all the fertile inventions of a woman to persuade the king

that she was his humblest creature, and the good people of England that

she was quite in love with them. Now that we know that no female was

ever more deeply tainted with Catholic bigotry, and that, haughty as she

was, this princess suffered the most insulting superstitions, inflicted

as penances by her priests, for this very marriage with a Protestant

prince, the following new facts relating to her first arrival in England

curiously contrast with the mortified feelings she must have endured by

the violent suppression of her real ones.

We must first bring forward a remarkable and unnoticed document in the

Embassies of Marshal Bassompierre.[205] It is nothing less than a most

solemn obligation contracted with the Pope and her brother the King of

France, to educate her children as Catholics, and only to choose

Catholics to attend them. Had this been known either to Charles or to

the English nation, Henrietta could never have been permitted to ascend

the English throne. The fate of both her sons shows how faithfully she

performed this treasonable contract. This piece of secret history opens

the concealed cause of those deep impressions of that faith which both

monarchs sucked in with their milk; that triumph of the cradle over the

grave which most men experience; Charles the Second died a Catholic,

James the Second lived as one.

When Henrietta was on her way to England, a legate from Rome arrested

her at Amiens, requiring the princess to undergo a penance, which was to

last sixteen days, for marrying Charles without the papal dispensation.

The queen stopped her journey, and wrote to inform the king of the

occasion. Charles, who was then waiting for her at Canterbury, replied,

that if Henrietta did not instantly proceed, he would return alone to

London. Henrietta doubtless sighed for the Pope and the penance, but she

set off the day she received the king's letter. The king, either by his

wisdom or his impatience, detected the aim of the Roman pontiff, who,

had he been permitted to arrest the progress of a Queen of England for

sixteen days in the face of all Europe, would thus have obtained a tacit

supremacy over a British monarch.

When the king arrived at Canterbury, although not at the moment prepared

to receive him, Henrietta flew to meet him, and with all her spontaneous

grace and native vivacity, kneeling at his feet, she kissed his hand,

while the king, bending over her, wrapped her in his arms, and kissed

her with many kisses. This royal and youthful pair, unusual with those

of their rank, met with the eagerness of lovers, and the first words of

Henrietta were those of devotion; _Sire! je suis venue en ce pays de

votre majesté pour être usée et commandée de vous._[206] It had been

rumoured that she was of a very short stature, but, reaching to the

king's shoulder, his eyes were cast down to her feet, seemingly

observing whether she used art to increase her height. Anticipating his

thoughts, and playfully showing her feet, she declared, that "she stood

upon her own feet, for thus high I am, and neither higher nor lower."

After an hour's conversation in privacy, Henrietta took her dinner

surrounded by the court; and the king, who had already dined, performing

the office of her carver, cut a pheasant and some venison. By the side

of the queen stood her ghostly confessor, solemnly reminding her that

this was the eve of John the Baptist, and was to be fasted, exhorting

her to be cautious that she set no scandalous example on her first

arrival. But Charles and his court were now to be gained over, as well

as John the Baptist. She affected to eat very heartily of the forbidden

meat, which gave great comfort, it seems, to several of her new

heretical subjects then present: but we may conceive the pangs of so

confirmed a devotee. She carried her dissimulation so far, that being

asked about this time whether she could abide a Huguenot? she replied,

"Why not? was not my father one?" Her ready smiles, the graceful wave of

her hand, the many "good signs of hope," as a contemporary in a

manuscript letter expresses it, induced many of the English to believe

that Henrietta might even become one of themselves! Sir Symonds D'Ewes,

as appears by his manuscript diary, was struck by "her deportment to her

women, and her looks to her servants, which were so sweet and

humble!"[207] However, this was in the first days of her arrival, and

these "sweet and humble looks" were not constant ones; for a courier at

Whitehall, writing to a friend, observes that "the queen, however little

of stature, yet is of a pleasing countenance, if she be pleased,

otherwise full of spirit and vigour, and seems of more than ordinary

resolution;" and he adds an incident of one of her "frowns." The room in

which the queen was at dinner, being somewhat over-heated with the fire

and company, "she drove us all out of the chamber. I suppose none but a

queen could have cast such a scowl."[208] We may already detect the fair

waxen mask melting away on the features it covered, even in one short

month!

By the marriage-contract, Henrietta was to be allowed a household

establishment, composed of her own people; and this had been contrived

to be not less than a small French colony, exceeding three hundred

persons. It composed, in fact, a French faction, and looks like a covert

project of Richelieu's to further his intrigues here, by opening a

perpetual correspondence with the discontented Catholics of England. In

the instructions of Bassompierre, one of the alleged objects of the

marriage is the general good of the Catholic religion, by affording some

relief to those English who professed it. If, however, that great

statesman ever entertained this political design, the simplicity and

pride of the Roman priests here completely overturned it; for in their

blind zeal they dared to extend their domestic tyranny over majesty

itself.

The French party had not long resided here ere the mutual jealousies

between the two nations broke out. All the English who were not

Catholics were soon dismissed from their attendance on the queen, by

herself; while Charles was compelled, by the popular cry, to forbid any

English Catholics to serve the queen, or to be present at the

celebration of her mass. The king was even obliged to employ pursuivants

or king's messengers, to stand at the door of her chapel to seize on any

of the English who entered there, while on these occasions the French

would draw their swords to defend these concealed Catholics. "The queen

and hers" became an odious distinction in the nation. Such were the

indecent scenes exhibited in public; they were not less reserved in

private. The following anecdote of saying a grace before the king, at

his own table, in a most indecorous race run between the catholic priest

and the king's chaplain, is given in a manuscript letter of the times.

"The king and queen dining together in the presence,[209] Mr. Hacket

(chaplain to the Lord Keeper Williams)[210] being then to say grace, the

confessor would have prevented him, but that Hacket shoved him away;

whereupon the confessor went to the queen's side, and was about to say

grace again, but that the king pulling the dishes unto him, and the

carvers falling to their business, hindered. When dinner was done, the

confessor thought, standing by the queen, to have been before Mr.

Hacket, but Mr. Hacket again got the start. The confessor, nevertheless,

begins his grace as loud as Mr. Hacket, with such a confusion, that the

king in great passion instantly rose from the table, and, taking the

queen by the hand, retired into the bedchamber."[211] It is with

difficulty we conceive how such a scene of priestly indiscretion should

have been suffered at the table of an English sovereign.

Such are the domestic accounts I have gleaned from MS. letters of the

times; but particulars of a deeper nature may be discovered in the

answer of the king's council to Marshal Bassompierre, preserved in the

history of his embassy; this marshal had been hastily despatched as an

extraordinary ambassador when the French party were dismissed. This

state-document, rather a remonstrance than a reply, states that the

French household had formed a little republic within themselves,

combining with the French resident ambassador, and inciting the

opposition members in parliament; a practice usual with that intriguing

court, even from the days of Elizabeth, as the original letters of the

French ambassador of the time, which will be found in the third volume,

amply show; and those of La Boderie in James the First's time, who

raised a French party about Prince Henry; and the correspondence of

Barillon in Charles the Second's reign, so fully exposed in his entire

correspondence published by Fox. The French domestics of the queen were

engaged in lower intrigues; they lent their names to hire houses in the

suburbs of London, where, under their protection, the English Catholics

found a secure retreat to hold their illegal assemblies, and where the

youth of both sexes were educated and prepared to be sent abroad to

Catholic seminaries. But the queen's priests, by those well-known means

which the Catholic religion sanctions, were drawing from the queen the

minutest circumstances which passed in privacy between her and the king;

indisposed her mind towards her royal consort, impressed on her a

contempt of the English nation, and a disgust of our customs, and

particularly, as has been usual with the French, made her neglect the

English language, as if the queen of England held no common interest

with the nation. They had made her residence a place of security for the

persons and papers of the discontented. Yet all this was hardly more

offensive than the humiliating state to which they had reduced an

English queen by their monastic obedience: inflicting the most degrading

penances. One of the most flagrant is alluded to in our history. This

was a barefoot pilgrimage to Tyburn, where, one morning, under the

gallows on which so many Jesuits had been executed as traitors to

Elizabeth and James the First, she knelt and prayed to them as martyrs

and saints who had shed their blood in defence of the Catholic

cause.[212] A manuscript letter of the times mentions that "the priests

had also made her dabble in the dirt in a foul morning from

Somerset-house to St. James's, her Luciferian confessor riding along by

her in his coach! They have made her to go barefoot, to spin, to eat her

meat out of dishes, to wait at the table of servants, with many other

ridiculous and absurd penances. And if they dare thus insult (adds the

writer) over the daughter, sister, and wife of so great kings, what

slavery would they not make us, the people, to undergo!"[213]

One of the articles in the contract of marriage was, that the queen

should have a chapel at St. James's, to be built and consecrated by her

French bishop; the priests became very importunate, declaring that

without a chapel mass could not be performed with the state it ought

before a queen. The king's answer is not that of a man inclined to

popery. "If the queen's closet, where they now say mass, is not large

enough, let them have it in the great chamber; and, if the great chamber

is not wide enough, they might use the garden; and, if the garden would

not serve their turn, then was the park the fittest place."

The French priests and the whole party feeling themselves slighted, and

sometimes worse treated, were breeding perpetual quarrels among

themselves, grew weary of England, and wished themselves away: but many

having purchased their places with all their fortune, would have been

ruined by the breaking up of the establishment. Bassompierre alludes to

the broils and clamours of these French strangers, which exposed them to

the laughter of the English court; and we cannot but smile in observing,

in one of the despatches of this great mediator between two kings and a

queen, addressed to the minister, that one of the greatest obstacles

which he had found in this difficult negotiation arose from the

bedchamber women! The French king being desirous of having two

additional women to attend the English queen his sister, the ambassador

declares, that "it would be more expedient rather to diminish than to

increase the number; for they all live so ill together, with such

rancorous jealousies and enmities, that I have more trouble to make them

agree than I shall find to accommodate the differences between the two

kings. Their continual bickerings, and often their vituperative

language, occasion the English to entertain the most contemptible and

ridiculous opinions of our nation. I shall not, therefore, insist on

this point, unless it shall please his majesty to renew it."

The French bishop was under the age of thirty, and his authority was

imagined to have been but irreverently treated by two beautiful viragos

in that civil war of words which was raging; one of whom, Madame St.

George, was in high favour, and most intolerably hated by the English.

Yet such was English gallantry, that the king presented this lady on her

dismission with several thousand pounds and jewels. There was something

inconceivably ludicrous in the notions of the English, of a bishop

hardly of age, and the gravity of whose character was probably tarnished

by French gesture and vivacity. This French establishment was daily

growing in expense and number; a manuscript letter of the times states

that it cost the king £240 a day, and had increased from threescore

persons to four hundred and forty, besides children!

It was one evening that the king suddenly appeared, and, summoning the

French household, commanded them to take their instant departure--the

carriages were prepared for their removal. In doing this, Charles had to

resist the warmest entreaties, and even the vehement anger of the queen,

who is said in her rage to have broken several panes of the window of

the apartment to which the king dragged her, and confined her from

them.[214]

The scene which took place among the French people, at the sudden

announcement of the king's determination, was remarkably indecorous.

They instantly flew to take possession of all the queen's wardrobe and

jewels; they did not leave her, it appears, a change of linen, since it

was with difficulty she procured one as a favour, according to some

manuscript letters of the times. One of their extraordinary expedients

was that of inventing bills, for which they pretended they had engaged

themselves on account of the queen, to the amount of £10,000, which the

queen at first owned to, but afterwards acknowledged the debts were

fictitious ones. Among these items was one of £400 for necessaries for

her majesty; an apothecary's bill for drugs of £800; and another of

£150 for "the bishop's unholy water," as the writer expresses it. The

young French bishop attempted by all sorts of delays to avoid this

ignominious expulsion; till the king was forced to send his yeomen of

the guards to turn them out from Somerset-house, where the juvenile

French bishop, at once protesting against it, and mounting the steps of

the coach, took his departure "head and shoulders."[215] It appears that

to pay the debts and the pensions, besides sending the French troops

free home, cost £50,000.

In a long procession of nearly forty coaches, after four days' tedious

travelling, they reached Dover; but the spectacle of these impatient

foreigners so reluctantly quitting England, gesticulating their sorrows

or their quarrels, exposed them to the derision, and stirred up the

prejudices of the common people. As Madame George, whose vivacity is

always described as extravagantly French, was stepping into the boat,

one of the mob could not resist the satisfaction of flinging a stone at

her French cap; an English courtier, who was conducting her, instantly

quitted his charge, ran the fellow through the body, and quietly

returned to the boat. The man died on the spot; but no farther notice

appears to have been taken of the inconsiderate gallantry of this

English courtier.

But Charles did not show his kingly firmness only on this occasion: it

did not forsake him when the French Marshal Bassompierre was instantly

sent over to awe the king; Charles sternly offered the alternative of

war, rather than permit a French faction to trouble an English court.

Bassompierre makes a curious observation in a letter to the French

Bishop of Mende, he who had been just sent away from England; and which

serves as the most positive evidence of the firm refusal of Charles the

First. The French marshal, after stating the total failure of his

mission, exclaims, "See, sir, to what we are reduced! and imagine my

grief, that the Queen of Great Britain has the pain of viewing my

departure without being of any service to her; but if you consider that

I was sent here to _make a contract of marriage observed, and to

maintain the Catholic religion in a country from which they formerly

banished it to make a contract of marriage_, you will assist in excusing

me of this failure." The French marshal has also preserved the same

distinctive feature of the nation, as well as of the monarch, who,

surely to his honour as King of England, felt and acted on this occasion

as a true Briton. "I have found," says the Gaul, "humility among

Spaniards, civility and courtesy among the Swiss, in the embassies I had

the honour to perform for the king; but the English would not in the

least abate of their natural pride and arrogance. The king is so

resolute not to re-establish any French about the queen, his consort,

and was so stern (_rude_) in speaking to me, that it is impossible to

have been more so." In a word, the French marshal, with all his vaunts

and his threats, discovered that Charles the First was the true

representative of his subjects, and that the king had the same feelings

with the people: this indeed was not always the case! This transaction

took place in 1626, and when, four years afterwards, it was attempted

again to introduce certain French persons, a bishop and a physician,

about the queen, the king absolutely refused even a French physician,

who had come over with the intention of being chosen the queen's, under

the sanction of the queen mother. This little circumstance appears in a

manuscript letter from Lord Dorchester to M. de Vic, one of the king's

agents at Paris. After an account of the arrival of this French

physician, his lordship proceeds to notice the former determinations of

the king; "yet this man," he adds, "hath been addressed to the

ambassador to introduce him into the court, and the queen persuaded in

cleare and plaine terms to speak to the king to admit him as domestique.

His majesty expressed his dislike of this proceeding, but contented

himself to let the ambassador know that this doctor may return as he is

come, with intimation that he should do it speedily; the French

ambassador, willing to help the matter, spake to the king that the said

doctor might be admitted to kiss the queen's hand, and to carrie the

news into France of her safe delivery: which the king excused by a civil

answer, and has since commanded me to let the ambassador understand,

that he had heard him as Monsieur de Fontenay in this particular, but,

if he should persist and press him as ambassador, he should be forced to

say that which would displease him." Lord Dorchester adds, that he

informs M. de Vic of these particulars, that he should not want for the

information should the matter be revived by the French court, otherwise

he need not notice it.[216]

By this narrative of secret history, Charles the First does not appear

so weak a slave to his queen as our writers echo from each other; and

those who make Henrietta so important a personage in the cabinet, appear

to have been imperfectly acquainted with her real talents. Charles,

indeed, was deeply enamoured of the queen, for he was inclined to strong

personal attachments;[217] and "the temperance of his youth, by which he

had lived so free from personal vice," as May, the parliamentary

historian expresses it, even the gay levity of Buckingham seems never,

in approaching the king, to have violated. Charles admired in Henrietta

all those personal graces which he himself wanted; her vivacity in

conversation enlivened his own seriousness, and her gay volubility the

defective utterance of his own; while the versatility of her manners

relieved his own formal habits. Doubtless the queen exercised the same

power over this monarch which vivacious females are privileged by nature

to possess over their husbands; she was often listened to, and her

suggestions were sometimes approved; but the fixed and systematic

principles of the character and the government of this monarch must not

be imputed to the intrigues of a mere lively and volatile woman; we must

trace them to a higher source; to his own inherited conceptions of the

regal rights, if we would seek for truth, and read the history of human

nature in the history of Charles the First.

Long after this article was published, the subject has been more

critically developed in my "Commentaries on the Life and Reign of

Charles the First."

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