THE MARRIAGE.
During the period of King Charles's days of adversity he made many
fruitless attempts to obtain a wife. He was rejected by all the young
ladies to whom he made proposals. Marriages in that grade of society
are almost always mere transactions of business, being governed
altogether by political and prudential considerations. In all Charles's
proposals he was aiming simply at strengthening his own position by
means of the wealth or family influence of the bride, supposing as he
did that the honor of being even nominally a queen would be a sufficient
equivalent to the lady. The ladies themselves, however, to whom he
addressed himself, or their friends, thought that the prospect of his
being really restored to his throne was very remote and uncertain,
and, in the mean time, the empty name of queen was not worth as much
as a rich and powerful heiress, by becoming his bride, would have to
pay for it.
After his restoration, however, all this was changed. There was no
longer any difficulty. He had now only to choose. In fact, one or two
who had refused him when he was a fugitive and an exile thought
differently of the case now that he was a king, and one of them, as
has already been said, gave him intimations, through her friends, that
if he were inclined to renew his suit, he would be more successful.
Charles rejected these overtures with indignant disdain.
The lady whom he ultimately married was a Portuguese princess. Her
father was King of Portugal, but before his accession to the throne
his title had been the Duke of Braganza. The name of his daughter was
Catharine. She is thus known generally in history by the name of
Catharine of Braganza.
It is said that the plan of this marriage originated with Queen
Henrietta Maria, and that a prominent motive with her in promoting the
measure was her desire to secure for Charles a Catholic wife. Catharine
of Braganza was a Catholic. Henrietta Maria was deeply interested, and
no doubt conscientiously so, in bringing back her own family and their
descendants, and the realm of England, if possible, to the ancient
faith: and this question of the marriage of her son she justly
considered would have a very important bearing on the result.
Queen Henrietta is said to have laid her arrangements in train for
opening the negotiation with the Portuguese princess, at a visit which
she made to England in 1660, very soon after her son's restoration.
The Restoration took place in May. The queen's visit to her son was
in October. Of course, after all the long years of danger, privation,
and suffering which this family had endured, the widowed mother felt
an intense emotion of joy at finding her children once more restored
to what she considered their just hereditary rights. Charles was on
the English throne. James, the Duke of York, was Lord High Admiral of
England, that is, the commander-in-chief of the naval forces of the
realm; and her other children, those who were still living, were in
peace and safety. Of course, her heart was full of maternal pride and
joy.
Her son James, the Lord High Admiral, went across the Channel to Dover,
with a fleet of the finest ships that he could select from the whole
British navy, to escort his mother to England. The queen was to embark
at Calais. [Footnote: For a view of the famous Calais pier, see History
of Mary Queen of Scots, page 105.] The queen came down to the port
from Paris, attended by many friends, who sympathized with her in the
return of her prosperity, and were attracted, besides, by the grand
spectacle which they thought would be presented by the appearance and
maneuvers of the English ships, and the ceremony of the embarkation.
The waters of the English Channel are disturbed by almost perpetual
agitations, which bleak winds and rapid tides, struggling continually
together, combine to raise; and many a traveler, who passes in comfort
across the Atlantic, is made miserable by the incessant restlessness
of this narrow sea. At the time, however, when Henrietta Maria crossed
it, the waters for once were calm. The people who assembled upon the
pier to witness the embarkation looked over the expanse before them,
and saw it lying smooth, every where, as glass, and reflecting the
great English ships which lay at a little distance from the shore as
if it were a mirror. It was a bright and beautiful October morning.
The air seemed perfectly motionless. The English ships were adorned
with countless flags in honor of the occasion, but they all hung down
perfectly lifeless upon the masts and rigging. Scarcely a ripple rolled
upon the beach; and so silent and still was the morning air, that the
voices and echoes came from vast distances along the shore, and the
dip of the oars of the boats gliding about in the offing sent its sound
for miles around over the smooth surface of the sea; and when the grand
salute was fired at the embarkation of the queen, the reverberation
of the guns was heard distinctly, it was said, at Dover, a distance
of thirty miles.
Even in such a calm as this, however, uncommon as it is, the atmosphere
is not perfectly still. When the royal party were on board the vessels
and the sails were set, the fleet did begin to glide, almost
imperceptibly, it is true, away from the shore. In the course of the
day they had receded several miles from the land, and when the dinner
hour arrived they found that the lord admiral had provided a most
sumptuous banquet on board. Just before the time, however, for setting
down to the table, the duke found that it was a Catholic fast day, and
that neither his mother nor any of her attendants, being, as they were,
all Catholics, could eat any thing but fish; and, unfortunately, as
all James's men were Protestants, they had not thought of the fast,
and they had no fish on board. They, however, contrived to produce a
sturgeon for the queen, and they sat down to the table, the queen to
the dish provided for her, and the others to bread and vegetables, and
such other food as the Catholic ritual allowed, while the duke himself
and his brother officers disposed, as well as they could, of the more
luxurious dainties which they had intended for their guests.
With a fair wind, three hours is sufficient for the run from Calais
to Dover. It took the Duke of York two days to get his fleet across
in this calm. At length, however, they arrived. The king was on the
pier to receive his mother. Rejoiced as her majesty must have been to
be welcomed by her son under such circumstances, she must have thought
mournfully of her departed husband at the time of her landing, for it
was here that he had taken leave of her some years before, when the
troubles of her family were beginning. Charles conducted his mother
to the castle. All the inhabitants of Dover, and of the country around,
had assembled to witness the arrival, and they welcomed the mother
back to the land of her husband and her sons with long and loud
acclamations.
There was a great banquet at Dover Castle. Here all the members of the
royal family were present, having been assembled for the occasion. Of
course, it was an occasion of great family rejoicing, mingled
undoubtedly, on the part of the queen, with many mournful thoughts and
bitter recollections. The fast was past, and there was, consequently,
no difficulty now about partaking of the food that had been provided;
but another difficulty arose, having the same origin, viz., the question
whether the divine blessing should be implored upon the food by a
Catholic priest or an Episcopal chaplain. Neither party could
conscientiously acquiesce in the performance of the service by the
other. They settled the important question, or rather it settled itself
at last, in the following manner: When the guests were ready to take
their places at table, the king, instead of asking his mother's
spiritual guide to officiate, as both Christian and filial courtesy
required him to have done, called upon his own chaplain. The chaplain
said grace. Immediately afterward, the Catholic priest, thinking that
fidelity to his own religious faith required him to act decidedly,
repeated the service in the Catholic form, ending with making the sign
of the cross in a very conspicuous manner over the table. The gentry
of Dover, who had been admitted as spectators of this banquet, were
greatly scandalized at this deed. They regarded the gesture as an act
of very wicked and vary dangerous idolatry.
From Dover the queen proceeded with her children to London. Her sons
did every thing in their power to honor their mother's visit; they
received her with great parade and pomp, assigned her a sumptuous
residence, and studied every means of amusing her, and of making her
visit a source of pleasure. But they did not succeed. The queen was
very unhappy. Every place that she visited recalled to her mind the
memory of her husband, and awakened afresh all her sorrows. She was
distressed, too, by some domestic troubles, which we have not here
time to describe. Then the religious differences between herself and
her children, and the questions which were arising out of them
continually, gave her a great deal of pain; she could not but perceive,
moreover, that she was regarded with suspicion and dislike by the
people of England on account of her Catholic faith. Then, besides,
notwithstanding her English husband and her English children, she was
herself a French woman still in character, thought, feeling, and
language, and she could not feel really at home north of the Channel.
After remaining, therefore, a few months in London, and arranging some
family and business affairs which required her attention, she determined
to return. The king accompanied her to Portsmouth, where she set sail,
taking the little princess Henrietta with her, and went back to France.
Among the family affairs, however, which she arranged, it is said that
the marriage of her son, the king, was a special object of her
attention, and that she secretly laid the train which resulted in his
espousing Catharine of Braganza.
According to the accounts given in the chronicles of the times, the
negotiations were opened in the following manner: One day the Portuguese
ambassador at London came to a certain high officer of the king's
household, and introduced the subject of his majesty's marriage, saying,
in the course of the conversation, that he thought the Princess
Catharine of Portugal would be a very eligible match, and adding
moreover, that he was authorized to say that, with the lady, very
advantageous terms could be offered. Charles said he would think of
it. This gave the ambassador sufficient encouragement to induce him
to take another step. He obtained an audience of Charles the next day,
and proposed the subject directly for his consideration. The ambassador
knew very well that the question would turn, in Charles's mind, on the
pecuniary and political advantages of the match; so he stated at once
what they would be. He was authorized to offer, he said, the sum of
five hundred thousand pounds [Footnote: Equal to two or three millions
of dollars.] as the princess's portion, and to surrender to the English
crown various foreign possessions, which had, till then, belonged to
the Portuguese. One of the principal of these was the island of Bombay
in the East Indies. Another was Tangier, a port in Africa. The English
did not, at that time, hold any East Indian territories. He likewise
offered to convey to the English nation the right of trading with the
great South American country of Brazil, which then pertained to the
Portuguese crown.
Charles was very much pleased with these proposals. He immediately
consulted his principal minister of state, Lord Clarendon, the
celebrated historian, and soon afterward called a meeting of his privy
council and laid the case before them. Clarendon asked him if he had
given up all thoughts of a Protestant connection. Charles said that
he did not know where to look for a Protestant wife. It was true, in
fact, that nearly all the royal families of Europe were Catholics, and
royal bridegrooms must always have royal brides. There were, however,
Protestant princesses in Germany; this was suggested to his majesty,
but he replied, with an expression of contempt, that they were all
dull and foggy, and he could not possibly have one of them for a wife.
The counselors then began to look at the pecuniary and political
advantages of the proposed bargain. They got out their maps, and showed
Charles where Bombay, and Tangier, and the other places offered with
the lady as her dowry lay. The statesmen were quite pleased with the
prospect of these acquisitions, and Charles was particularly gratified
with the money item. It was twice as much, they said, as any English
king had ever before received as the marriage portion of a bride. In
a word, the proposition was unanimously considered as in every respect
entirely satisfactory, and Charles authorized his ministers to open
the negotiations for the marriage immediately. All this time Charles
had never seen the lady, and perhaps had never heard of her before.
Her own individual qualifications, whether of mind or of person, seem
to have been considered a subject not worth inquiring about at all.
Nor ought we to be at all surprised at this. It was not Charles's
object, in seeking a wife, to find some one whom he was to cherish and
love, and who was to promote his happiness by making him the object
of her affection in return. His love, so far as such a soul is capable
of love, was to be gratified by other means. He had always some female
favorite, chosen from among the ladies of his court, high in rank,
though not high enough to be the wedded wife of the king. These
attachments were not private in any sense, nor was any attempt made
to conceal them, the king being in the habit of bestowing upon the
objects of them all the public attentions, as well as the private
intimacy which pertain to wedded life. The king's favorite at the
present time was Lady Castlemaine. She was originally a Mrs. Palmer,
but the king had made her husband Lord Castlemaine for the purpose of
giving a title to the wife. Some years afterward he made her a duchess.
She was a prominent lady in the court, being every where received and
honored as the temporary wife of the king. He did not intend, in
marrying the Princess Catharine, to disturb this state of things at
all. She was to be in name his wife, but he was to place his affections
where he pleased. She was to have her own palace, her own household,
and her own pleasures, and he, on the other hand, was to continue to
have his.
Notwithstanding this, however, Charles seemed to have had some
consideration for the personal appearance of his proposed bride, after
all. The Spanish government, as soon as Charles's plan of espousing
Catharine became known, attempted to prevent the match, as it would
greatly increase the strength and influence of Portugal by giving to
that country so powerful an ally. Spain had plenty of money, but no
princess in the royal family; and the government therefore proposed
to Charles, that if he would be content to take some Protestant lady
for a wife, they would endow her, and with a portion as great as that
which had been offered with Catharine. They, moreover, represented to
Charles that Catharine was out of health, and very plain and repulsive
in her personal appearance, and that, besides, it would be a great
deal better for him, for obvious political reasons, to marry a
Protestant princess. The other party replied that Catharine was not
ugly by any means, and they showed Charles her portrait, which, after
looking at it a few minutes, he said was _not unhandsome_. They reminded
him, also, that Catharine was only the third in succession from the
crown of Portugal, so that the chance of her actually inheriting that
realm was not at all to be disregarded. Charles thought this a very
important consideration, and, on the whole, decided that the affair
should go on; and commissioners were sent to make a formal proposal
of marriage at the Portuguese court. Charles wrote letters to the
mother of the young lady, and to the young lady herself, expressing
the personal interest he felt in obtaining the princess's hand.
The negotiations thus commenced went on for many months, with no other
obstruction than the complication and intricacy which attend all
matrimonial arrangements where the interests of kingdoms, as well as
the personal happiness of the wedded pair, are involved in the issue.
Ambassadors were sent, and contracts and treaties were drawn up,
discussed, modified, and finally signed. A formal announcement of the
proposed marriage was made to the English Parliament, and addresses
congratulatory were voted and presented in reply. Arrangements were
made for transferring the foreign possessions promised to the British
crown; and, lastly, the money intended for the dower was collected,
tied up in bags, sealed, and deposited safely in the strong room of
the Castle at Lisbon. In fact, every thing went on prosperously to the
end, and when all was thus finally settled, Charles wrote the following
letter to his expected bride.
"London, 2d of July, 1661. MY LADY AND WIFE,"
"Already the ambassador has set off for Lisbon; for me the signing of
the marriage has been great happiness; and there is about to be
dispatched at this time, after him, one of my servants, charged with
what would appear necessary, whereby may be declared on my part the
inexpressible joy of this felicitous conclusion, which, when received,
will hasten the coming of your majesty."
"I am going to make a short progress into some of my provinces. In the
mean time, while I am going further from my most sovereign good, yet
I do not complain as to whither I go; seeking in vain tranquility in
my restlessness, looking to see the beloved person of your majesty in
these realms already your own; and that with the same anxiety with
which, after my long banishment, I desired to see myself within them,
and my subjects desiring also to behold me among them. The presence
of your serenity is only wanting to unite us, under the protection of
God, in the health and content I desire.
"The very faithful husband of her majesty, whose hand he kisses.
CHARLES REX."
The letter was addressed
"To the QUEEN OF GREAT BRITAIN, my wife and lady, whom God preserve."
Whoever reads this letter attentively will see in it that infallible
criterion of hypocrisy and pretense in professions of regard, viz.,
extravagant ideas feebly and incoherently expressed. When the heart
dictates what is said, the thoughts are natural, and the language
plain; but in composition like the above, we see a continual striving
to say something for effect, which the writer invents by his ingenuity
as he goes on, without any honest impulses from the heart to guide
him. He soars one minute and breaks down the next, in absurd
alternations of the sublime and the ridiculous. How honest Charles was
in such professions, and what was the kind of connubial happiness which
he was preparing for his bride, is shown by the fact that he was even
now spending all his time with Lady Castlemaine; and, to reconcile her
to his marriage with Catharine, he had promised her that he would make
her one of the ladies of the queen's bed chamber as soon as she arrived
in London, which would give him constant opportunities of being in her
society.
We have made very little allusion to Catharine herself, thus far, in
the account of these transactions, because she has had, thus far,
nothing to do with them. Every thing has been arranged for her by her
mother, who was an ambitious and masculine woman, and at this time the
queen regent of Portugal. Catharine had been kept shut up, all her
days, in the most strict seclusion, and in the most rigorous subjection
to her mother's will. It is said that she had hardly been ten times
out of the palace in her life, since her return to it from the convent
where she had been educated. The innocent and simple hearted maiden
looked forward to her marriage as to a release from a tedious and
intolerable bondage. They had shown her King Charles's picture, and
had given her an account of his perilous adventures and romantic
escapes, and of the courage and energy which he had sometimes displayed.
And that was all she knew. She had her childlike ideas of love and of
conjugal fidelity and happiness, and believed that she was going to
realize them. As she looked forward, therefore, to the period of her
departure for England, she longed impatiently for the time to come,
her heart bounding at every thought of the happy hour with eager
anticipations of delight.
An English nobleman--the Earl of Sandwich--was sent with a squadron
to bring the bride to England. He was received, when he entered the
Tagus, with great ceremony. A Portuguese minister went down the river
to meet him in a magnificent barge. The nobleman descended to the
lowest step of the ladder which led down the side of the ship, to
receive the minister. They ascended the ladder together, while the
ship fired a salute of twenty or thirty guns. They went into the cabin,
and took seats there, with great ceremony. The minister then rose and
made an address of welcome to the English commander. Lord Sandwich
replied, and there was then another thundering salute of cannon.
All this parade and ceremony was, in this case, as it often is, not
an _expression_ of real cordiality, good will, and good faith, but a
substitute for them. The English commander, who had been specially
instructed to bring over the money as well as the bride, found, to his
great astonishment and perplexity, that the queen regent had spent a
considerable portion of the money which had been put away so safely
in the bags, and she wished to pay now a part of the dowry in
merchandise, at such prices as she thought reasonable, and to have a
year's credit for the remainder. There was thus thrown upon Lord
Sandwich the very heavy responsibility of deciding whether to give up
the object of his expedition, and go back to England without the bride,
or to take her without the money. After very anxious hesitation and
suspense, he decided to proceed with his enterprise, and the
preparations were made for the princess's embarkation.
When the day arrived, the queen descended the grand staircase of the
palace, and at the foot of it took leave of her mother. Neither mother
nor daughter shed a tear. The princess was conducted through the
streets, accompanied by a long cavalcade and a procession of splendid
carriages, through long lines of soldiers, and under triumphal arches,
and over paths strewed with flowers, while bands of music, and groups
of dancers, at various distances along the way, expressed the general
congratulation and joy. When they reached the pier there was a splendid
brigantine or barge ready to receive the bride and her attendants. The
Earl of Sandwich, and other English officers of high rank belonging
to the squadron, entered the barge too. The water was covered with
boats, and the shipping in the river was crowded with spectators. The
barge moved on to the ship which was to convey the bridal party, who
ascended to the deck by means of a spacious and beautiful stair
constructed upon its side. Salutes were fired by the English ships,
and were echoed by the Portuguese forts on the shore. The princess's
brother and the ladies who had accompanied her on board, to take leave
of her there, now bade her farewell, and returned by the barge to the
shore, while the ships weighed anchor and prepared to put to sea.
The wind was, however, contrary, and they were compelled to remain
that night in the river; and as soon as the darkness came on, the whole
shore became resplendent with illuminations at the windows in the city,
and with rockets, and fire balls, and fireworks of every kind, rising
from boats upon the water, and from the banks, and heights, and castle
battlements all around upon the land. This gay and splendid spectacle
beguiled the night, but the wind continued unfavorable all the next
day, and confined the squadron still to the river. Catharine's mother
sent out a messenger during the day to inquire after her daughter's
health and welfare. The etiquette of royalty did not allow of her
coming to see her child.
The fleet, which consisted of fourteen men-of-war, put to sea on the
second day. After a long and stormy passage, the squadron arrived off
the Isle of Wight; the Duke of York came out to meet it there, with
five other ships, and they all entered the harbor of Portsmouth
together. As soon as Catharine landed, she wrote immediately to Charles
to notify him of her arrival. The news produced universal excitement
in London. The bells were rung, bonfires were made in the streets, and
houses were illuminated. Every body seemed full of joy and pleasure
except the king himself. He seemed to care little about it. He was
supping that night with Lady Castlemaine. It was five days before he
set out to meet his bride, and he supped with Lady Castlemaine the
night before he commenced his journey.
Some of Charles's best friends were very much grieved at his pursuing
such a course; others were very indignant; but the majority of the
people around him at court were like himself in character and manners,
and were only led to more open irregularity and vice themselves by
this public example of their sovereign. In the mean time, the king
moved on to Portsmouth, escorted by a body of his Life Guards. He found
that his intended bride was confined to her bed with a sort of slow
fever. It was the result, they said, of the roughness and discomforts
of the voyage, though we may certainly imagine another cause. Charles
went immediately to the house where she was residing, and was admitted
to visit her in her chamber, the many attendants who were present at
the interview watching with great interest every word and look on
either side by which they might judge of the nature of the first
impression made by the bride and bridegroom upon each other. Catharine
was not considered beautiful, and it was natural that a degree of
curiosity should be manifested to learn how Charles would regard her.
There are two apparently contradictory accounts of the impression made
upon Charles by this his first sight of his intended bride. Charles
wrote a letter to Lord Clarendon, in which he expressed himself very
well satisfied with her. He admitted that she was no beauty, but her
countenance was agreeable, he said, and "her conversation," he added,
"as far as I can perceive, is very good; for she has wit enough, and
a very agreeable voice. You would be surprised to see how well we are
acquainted already. In a word, I think myself very happy, and I am
confident that we shall agree very well together. I have not time to
say any more. My lord lieutenant will tell you the rest." At the same
time, while writing this in his official communication to his minister,
he said privately to one of his companions on leaving the presence of
his bride, that, "upon his word, they had sent him a bat instead of
a woman."
The royal couple were married the next day, first very privately in
the Catholic form, and afterward more openly, in a great hall, and
before a large assembly, according to the ritual of the Church of
England. The bride was attired in the English style, her dress being
of rose color, trimmed with knots of blue ribbon. These knots were,
after the ceremony, detached from the dress, and distributed among the
company as wedding favors, every lady eagerly pressing forward to get
a share. Magnificent presents were made to the groomsmen and
bridesmaids, and the company dispersed. The queen, still indisposed,
went back to her bed and her supper was served to her there, the king
and other members of the household partaking it with her, seated at
the bedside.
A day or two afterward the royal party proceeded to London, in a long
train composed of Life Guards, carriages, horsemen, baggage wagons,
and attendants of every grade. The queen's heart was full of
anticipations of happiness. The others, who knew what state of things
she was to find on her arrival there, looked forward to scenes of
trouble and woe.