The king's intrigue with Barbara Palmer.--The queen arrives at
Portsmouth.--Visited by the Duke of York.--The king leaves town,--First
interview with his bride.--His letter to the lord chancellor.--Royal
marriage and festivities.--Arrival at Hampton Court Palace.--Prospects
of a happy union.--Lady Castlemaine gives birth to a second child.--The
king's infatuation.--Mistress and wife.--The queen's misery.--The king's
cruelty.--Lord Clarendon's messages.--His majesty resolves to break the
queen's spirit.--End of the domestic quarrel.
Whilst the king conducted the negotiations of his marriage with
Catherine of Braganza, he likewise continued the pursuit of his intrigue
with Barbara Palmer. The unhappy fascination which this vile woman
exercised over his majesty increased with time; and though his ministers
declared a suitable marriage would reform his ways, his courtiers
concluded he had no intention of abandoning his mistress in favour of
his wife. For Barbara Palmer, dreading the loss of her royal lover and
the forfeiture of wealth accruing from this connection, had firmly bound
him in her toils. Moreover, in order that he might continually abide
under her influence, she conceived a scheme which would of necessity
bring her into constant intercourse with him and the young queen.
She therefore demanded he would appoint her one of the ladies of the
bedchamber to her majesty, to which he, heedless of the insult this
would fix upon his wife, readily consented.
In order to qualify Barbara Palmer for such a position, it was necessary
she should be raised to the peerage. This could only be accomplished by
ennobling her husband, unless public decency were wholly ignored,
and she was created a peeress in her own right, whilst he remained a
commoner. After some faint show of hesitation, Roger Palmer accepted the
honours thrust upon him by reason of his wife's infamy. On the 11th of
December, 1661, he was created Earl of Castlemaine, and Baron Limerick
in the peerage of Ireland, when the royal favourite became a countess.
And now the merry month of May being arrived, the queen was speedily
expected; and on the night of the 13th joyful tidings reached London
that the "Royal Charles," accompanied by the fleet, was in sight of
Portsmouth. At which news there was great rejoicing throughout the town,
church bells ringing merrily, and bonfires blazing brightly; but before
the Countess of Castlemaine's house, where the king, according to his
custom was at supper, there was no fire, though such signs of joy burned
"at all the rest of the doors almost in the streets, which was much
observed."
Next day the fleet arrived in the harbour of Portsmouth, about four in
the afternoon. Heath says the people gathered to receive the bride with
all possible demonstrations of honour, "the nobility and gentry and
multitudes of Londoners, in most rich apparel and in great numbers,
waiting on the shore for her landing; and the mayor and aldermen and
principal persons of that corporation being in their gowns, and with a
present and a speech ready to entertain her; the cannon and small shot,
both from round that town and the whole fleet echoing to one another
the loud proclamations of their joy." These good people were, however,
destined to disappointment; for though the bride was impatient to land,
because suffering from prostration consequent on a rough voyage and
severe illness, she was not, in observance of court etiquette, permitted
to leave the ship until the king arrived. This did not take place
until six days later, Charles being detained in town by reason of some
important bills then passing in Parliament, which it was necessary for
him to sign. He had, however, despatched his royal brother of York, then
Lord High Admiral of England, to meet her at sea, and give her greeting
in his name. Accordingly the duke had encountered the fleet at the Isle
of Wight, and gone on board the queen's ship, when she received him in
her cabin seated under a canopy on a chair of state. His royal highness
expressed his joy at her arrival, presented "his majesty's high respects
and his exceeding affection for her," and paid her many compliments.
Lord Chesterfield, who had been appointed chamberlain to the queen,
tells us: "Although James, in consequence of his near connection with
the sovereign, might have saluted the royal bride, he did not avail
himself of this privilege, out of a delicate regard to his majesty's
feelings, that he might be the first man to offer that compliment to his
queen; she coming out of a country where it was not the fashion." The
Duke of York presented some noblemen who had accompanied him; after
which she introduced the members of her suite. The queen and her
brother-in-law then held a conversation in the Spanish language, when
James assured her of his affection, and besought her to accept his
services. To these compliments she replied in like manner, when he arose
to depart. The queen advanced three paces with him, not withstanding
that he protested against such courtesy, bidding her remember her rank.
At this she smiled, and answered with much sweetness, "She wished to do
that out of affection, which she was not obliged to do"--a reply which
made a favourable impression on his mind. Whilst she continued on
board, the duke and his suite visited her daily, entering freely into
conversation with her, and finding her "a most agreeable lady." Probably
at the desire of the king, she left the ship before his arrival, and was
conveyed to his majesty's house at Portsmouth, where she was received
by the Countess of Suffolk, first lady of the bedchamber, and four other
ladies who had been appointed members of her household. One of her first
requests to these was--as may be learned from a letter of Lord Sandwich,
preserved in the Bodleian library--"that they would put her in that
habit they thought would be most pleasing to the king." Before leaving
the "Royal Charles" she spoke to all the officers of the ship, thanked
them for their services, and permitted them to kiss her hand. She
then presented a collar of gold to the captain, and gave money to be
distributed among the crew.
When at length the parliamentary business was concluded, the king found
himself in readiness to depart. The last words he addressed to his
faithful commons before starting are worth recording: "The mention of my
wife's arrival," said he, in the pleasant familiar tone it was his wont
to use, "puts me in mind to desire you to put that compliment upon her,
that her entrance into this town may be made with more decency than
the ways will now suffer it to be; and to that purpose I pray you would
quickly pass such laws as are before you, in order to the mending those
ways, that she may not find Whitehall surrounded with water."
At nine o'clock on the night of the 19th of May, his majesty left London
in Lord Northumberland's carriage, on his way to Portsmouth. Arriving
at Kingston an hour later, he entered Lord Chesterfield's coach, which
awaited him there by appointment, and drove to Guildford, at which town
he slept the night. In the morning he was up betimes, and posted to
Portsmouth, where he arrived at noon. The queen, being ill of a slight
fever, was yet in bed: but the king, all impatient to see the bride
which heaven had sent him, sought admittance to her chamber. The poor
princess evidently did not look to advantage; for his majesty told
Colonel Legg he thought at first glance "they had brought him a bat
instead of a woman." On further acquaintance, however, she seemed to
have afforded more pleasure to the king's sight, for the next day he
expressed the satisfaction he felt concerning her, in a letter addressed
to the lord chancellor, which is preserved in the library of the British
Museum, and runs as follows:
"PORTSMOUTH, 21st May (Eight in the Morning).
"I arrived here yesterday about two in the afternoon, and, as soon as I
had shifted myself, I went into, my wife's chamber, whom I found in
bed, by reason of a little cough and some inclination to a fever: but I
believe she will find herself very well in the morning when she wakes.
I can now only give you an account of what I have seen abed, which, in
short, is, her face is not so exact as to be called a beauty, though her
eyes are excellent good, and not anything in her face that in the least
degree can shock one: on the contrary, she hath as much agreeableness
in her looks altogether as ever I saw; and if I have any skill in
physiognomy, which I think I have, she must be as good a woman as ever
was born. Her conversation, as much as I can perceive, is very good, for
she has wit enough, and a most agreeable voice. You would wonder to
see how well acquainted we are already. In a word, I think myself very
happy; for I am confident our two humours will agree very well together.
I have no more to say: my Lord Lieutenant will give you an account of
the rest."
The king was attended by Lord Sandwich during this interview, and his
lordship, in a letter addressed to the lord chancellor, informed him
the meeting between his majesty and the infanta, "hath been with much
contentment on both sides, and that we are like to be very happy in
their conjunction." Next morning the Countess of Suffolk, and other
ladies appointed to wait upon the bride, dressed her according to the
English fashion, in "a habit they thought would be most pleasing to
the king," in which she was married. The ceremony was first performed
according to the rites of the Catholic Church, by the Rev. Lord Aubigny,
brother to the Duke of Richmond, in the queen's bedchamber; that
apartment being selected for the purpose, as affording a privacy
necessary to be maintained, by reason of the prejudice then existing
towards Catholicism. There were present the Duke of York, Philip,
afterwards Cardinal Howard, and five Portuguese, all of whom were bound
over to keep the strictest secrecy concerning what they witnessed.
Later in the day, Dr. Sheldon, Bishop of London, married their majesties
according to the form prescribed by the Church of England. The latter
ceremony took place in the presence chamber. A rail divided the
apartment, at the upper part of which the king and queen, the bishops,
the Spanish Ambassador, and Sir Richard Fanshaw stood; the lower
portion being crowded by the court. When Dr. Sheldon had declared their
majesties married, the Countess of Suffolk, according to a custom of the
time, detached the ribbons from the bride's dress, and, cutting them in
pieces, distributed them amongst those present.
Feasting, balls, and diversions of all kinds followed the celebration
of the royal nuptials, and for a time the king was delighted with
his bride. Four days after the marriage he writes again to the lord
chancellor in most cheerful tone:
"My brother will tell you of all that passes here, which I hope will
be to your satisfaction. I am sure 'tis so much to mine that I cannot
easily tell you how happy I think myself, and must be the worst
man living (which I hope I am not) if I be not a good husband. I am
confident never two humours were better fitted together than ours are.
We cannot stir from hence till Tuesday, by reason that there is not
carts to be had to-morrow to transport all our GUARDE INFANTAS, without
which there is no stirring: so you are not to expect me till Thursday
night at Hampton Court."
They did not reach the palace until the 29th of May, that being the
king's birthday, and, moreover, the anniversary of his entrance into
London; a date which the Queen's arrival now caused to be celebrated
with triple magnificence and joy. When the coach that conveyed
their majesties drew near, the whole palace seemed astir with happy
excitement. Double lines of soldiers, both horse and foot, lined the way
from the gates to the entrance. In the great hall the lord chancellor,
foreign ambassadors, judges, and councillors of state awaited to
pay homage to their majesties; whilst in various apartments were the
nobility and men of quality, with their ladies, ranged according to
their rank, being all eager to kiss the new queen's hand. Sure never was
such show of gladness. Bells rang people cheered, bonfires blazed.
In the evening news was brought that the Duchess of York was being rowed
to Hampton from town; hearing which, the king, with a blithe heart,
betook his way to meet her through the garden, now bright with spring
flowers and fragrant with sweet scents, till he arrived at the gate
by which the silver streak of the pleasant Thames flowed past. And
presently on this calm May eve the sound of oars splashing in the tide
was heard, and anon a barge came in sight, hung with silken curtains
and emblazoned with the arms of royalty. From this the Duchess of York
disembarked, aided by the king. When she had offered her congratulations
to him, he, taking her hand, led her to his bride, that such fair
speeches might be repeated to her majesty. And coming into the queen's
presence the duchess would have gone upon her knees and kissed her
majesty's hand; but Catherine raised her in her arms, and kissed her on
the cheek. Then amidst much joy the happy evening waned to night.
The royal palace of Hampton Court, in which Charles had decided on
spending his honeymoon, had been raised by the magnificent Wolsey in the
plenitude of his power as a place of recreation. Since his downfall
it had been used by royalty as a summer residence, it being in truth a
stately pleasure house. The great pile contained upwards of four
hundred rooms. The principal apartments had cedar or gilded and frescoed
ceilings, and walls hung with rare tapestries and curtains heavy with
gold. Moreover, these rooms contained furniture of most skilful design
and costly manufacture, and were adorned by the choice works of such
masters of their art as Holbein, Bellini, Vansomer, Rubens, and Raphael;
and withal enriched with Indian cabinets, such as never were seen in
England before, which the queen had brought with her from Portugal.
The great hall had been the scene of many sumptuous banquets. The chapel
was rich in carved designs. Her majesty's bedroom, with its curtains of
crimson silk, its vast mirror and toilet of beaten and massive gold, was
a splendid apartment--the more so from its state bed, which Evelyn says
was "an embroidery of silver on crimson velvet, and cost L8,000, being
a present made by the States of Holland, when his majesty returned, and
had formerly been given by them to our king's sister, ye Princess of
Orange, and being bought of her againe, was now presented to ye king."
Around this noble residence, where the court was wont to tarry in summer
months, stretched broad and flowerful gardens, with wide parterres,
noble statues, sparkling fountains, and marble vases; and beyond lay the
park, planted "with swete rows of lime-trees."
And here all day long, in the fair summer time of this year, pleasure
held boundless sway. Sauntering in balmy gardens, or seeking shelter
from sun-rays in green glades and leafy groves, their majesties,
surrounded by their brilliant court, chased bright hours away in frolic
and pleasantry from noon till night. Then revelry, gaining new life,
began once more, when courtly figures danced graceful measures to sounds
of mirthful strains, under the lustre of innumerable lights.
For a while it seemed as if a brave prospect of happiness was in store
for the young queen. Her love for her husband, her delight in his
affection, her pride in his accomplishments, together with her
simplicity, innocence, and naivete, completely won his heart. These
claims to his affection were, moreover, strengthened by the charms of
her person. Lord Chesterfield, a man whom experience of the sex had
made critical, writes that she "was exactly shaped, has lovely hands,
excellent eyes, a good countenance, a pleasing voice, fine hair, and,
in a word, what an understanding man would wish for in a wife."
Notwithstanding the attractions of her majesty's person which he
enumerates, he adds his fears that "all these will hardly make things
run in the right channel; but, if it should, our court will require a
new modelling." In this note of alarm he forebodes danger to come. A man
of his majesty's character, witty and careless, weak and voluptuous, was
not likely to reconstruct his court, or reclaim it from ways he loved.
Nor was his union calculated to exercise a lasting impression on him.
The affection he bore his wife in the first weeks of their married
life was due to the novelty he found in her society, together with the
absence of temptation in the shape of his mistress. Constancy to the
marriage vow was scarcely to be expected from a man whose morals had
never been shackled by restraint; yet faithlessness to a bride was
scarcely to be anticipated ere the honeymoon had waned. This was,
however, the unhappy fate which awaited Catherine of Braganza.
It happened early in the month of June, whilst the court was at Hampton,
my Lady Castlemaine, who had remained in town through illness, gave
birth to a second child. The infant was baptized Charles Palmer,
adopted by the king as his own, and as such subsequently created Duke
of Southampton. This event seemed to renew all his majesty's tenderness
towards her. Wearied by the charm of innocence in the person of his
wife, his weak nature yielded to the attraction of vice in that of his
mistress. He, therefore, frequently left Hampton Court that he might
ride to London, visit the countess, and fritter away some hours in her
presence; being heedless alike of the insult he dealt the queen, and the
scandal he gave the nation.
The while my Lord Castlemaine lived with the lady who shared his title,
and whom he called his wife; but their continuance to abide in harmony
and goodwill was, soon after the birth of this child, interrupted for
ever. My lord was certainly a loyal subject, but he was likewise a
religious man, as may be judged, not by that which has been recorded,
but from the narration which follows. Having been bred a Catholic,
he was anxious his wife's son should be enrolled a member of the same
community. To this end he had him baptized by a priest, a proceeding of
which the king wholly disapproved; not because his majesty was attached
to any religion in particular, but rather that he resented interference
with the infant whom he rested satisfied was his own child. Accordingly,
by the king's command, Lady Castlemaine's son was rebaptized by the
rector of St. Margaret's, Westminster, in the presence of his majesty,
the Earl of Oxford, and the Countess of Suffolk, first lady of the
bedchamber to the queen and aunt to the king's mistress.
This exasperated my Lord Castlemaine to such a degree that high words
passed between him and his lady: on which he resolved to part from her
for ever. However, she was more prompt to act in the matter than he;
for, taking advantage of his absence one day, she packed up her jewels,
plate, and household treasures, and departed to the residence of her
uncle, Colonel Edward Villiers, at Richmond. This step was probably
taken, if not by his majesty's suggestion, at least with his full
approval; for the house she selected brought her within an easy distance
of Hampton Court, into which the king designed promptly to introduce
her.
Now rumour of the king's liason had spread beyond the English nation,
and had been whispered even at the secluded court of Portugal, into the
ears of the bride elect. And the queen regent, dreading the trouble
this might draw upon her daughter, had counselled her never to admit
his majesty's mistress into her presence. This advice the young queen
determined to act upon; and accordingly when Charles, a couple of days
after their marriage, presented her with a list of those appointed to
her household--amongst whom was my Lady Castlemaine--her majesty drew a
pen across the name of the dreaded favourite. The king, if surprised
or indignant, made no remark at the time, but none the less held to
the resolution he had taken of appointing the countess a lady of the
bedchamber. No further attempt of intruding his mistress's presence upon
his wife was made until Lady Castlemaine came to Richmond.
It happened on the afternoon of the day on which the favourite arrived
her majesty sat in the great drawing-room, surrounded by a brilliant
throng of noble and beautiful women and gay and gallant men. The windows
of the apartment stood open; outside fountains splashed in the sun;
music played in a distant glade: and all the world seemed glad. And
as the queen listened to pleasant sounds of wit and gossip, murmuring
around her, the courtiers, at sound of a well-known footstep, suddenly
ceasing their discourse, fell back on either side adown the room. At
that moment the king entered, leading a lady apparelled in magnificent
attire, the contour of whose face and outline of whose figure
distinguished her as a woman of supreme and sensuous loveliness.
His majesty, suceedingly rich in waving feathers, glittering satins, and
fluttering ribbons, returned the gracious bows of his courtiers to
right and left; and, unconscious of the curious and perplexed looks they
interchanged, advanced to where his wife sat, and introduced my
Lady Castlemaine. Her majesty bowed and extended her hand, which the
countess, having first courtesyed profoundly, raised to her lips. The
queen either had not caught the name, or had disassociated it from that
of her husband's mistress; but in an instant the character of the woman
presented, and the insult the king had inflicted, flashed upon her mind.
Coming so suddenly, it was more than she could bear; all colour fled
from her face, tears rushed to her eyes, blood gushed from her nostrils,
and she fell senseless to the floor.
Such strong evidence of the degree in which his young wife felt the
indignity forced upon her, by no means softened his majesty's heart
towards her, but rather roused his indignation at what he considered
public defiance of his authority. But as his nature was remote from
roughness, and his disposition inclined to ease, he at first tried to
gain his desire by persuasion, and therefore besought the queen she
would suffer his mistress to become a lady of the bedchamber. But
whenever the subject was mentioned to her majesty, she burst into tears,
and would not give heed to his words. Charles therefore, incensed on his
side, deserted her company, and sought the society of those ever ready
to entertain him. And as the greater number of his courtiers were fully
as licentious as himself, they had no desire he should become subject to
his wife, or alter the evil tenor of his ways.
Therefore in their conversation they cited to him the example of his
grandfather, King James I., of glorious memory, who had not dissembled
his passions, nor suffered the same to become a reproach to those who
returned his love; but had obliged his queen to bear with their company,
and treat them with grace and favour; and had, moreover, raised his
natural children to the degree of princes of the blood. They told
Charles he had inherited the disposition of his grandsire, and they were
sure he would treat the objects of his affection in like manner as that
king had done. Lady Castlemaine, her friends moreover argued, had, by
reason of her love for his majesty, parted from her husband; and now
that she had been so publicly made an object of the queen's indignation,
she would, if abandoned by him, meet with rude contempt from the world.
To such discourses as these the king lent a willing ear, the more as
they encouraged him to act according to his desires. He was therefore
fully determined to support his mistress; and firmly resolved to subdue
his wife.
Meanwhile, all joyousness vanished from the court; the queen seemed
thoroughly dejected, the king bitterly disappointed, and the courtiers
grievously disturbed. Moreover, rumours of the trouble which had risen
between their majesties became noised abroad, and gave the people
occasion of speaking indifferently of their lord the king. Now Charles
in his unhappiness betook himself to the chancellor, who was not only
his sage adviser and trusted friend, but who had already gained the
esteem and confidence of the queen. My lord, by reason of his services
to the late king, and his friendship towards his present majesty, took
to himself the privilege of speaking with freedom and boldness whenever
his advice was asked by the monarch. As Burnet tells us, the worthy
chancellor would never make any application to the king's mistress, nor
allow anything to pass the seal in which she was named; nor would he
ever consent to visit her, which the bishop considered "was maintaining
the decencies of virtue in a very solemn manner." The king knowing my
lord was the only one of all the strangers surrounding the queen whom
she believed devoted to her service, and to whose advice she would
hearken with trust, therefore bade him represent to her the advisability
of obedience.
Whereon the chancellor boldly pointed out to him "the hard-heartedness
and cruelty of laying such a command upon the queen, which flesh and
blood could not comply with." He also begged to remind the monarch of
what he had heard him say upon the occasion of a like indignity
being offered by a neighbouring king to his queen, inasmuch as he
had compelled her to endure the presence of his mistress at court. On
hearing which King Charles avowed it was "a piece of ill-nature that he
could never be guilty of; and if ever he should be guilty of having a
mistress after he had a wife, which he hoped he should never be, she
should never come where his wife was; he would never add that to the
vexation, of which she would have enough without it." Finally my lord
added that pursuit of the course his majesty had resolved on, was a most
certain way to lose the respect and affections of his people; that the
excesses he had already fallen into had in some degree lost him ground
in their good esteem, but that his continuance of them would "break the
hearts of all his friends, and be grateful only to those who desired the
destruction of monarchy."
Charles heard him with some impatience, but in his reply betrayed that
graciousness of manner which, never forsaking him, went far in securing
the favour of those with whom he conversed. He commenced by telling the
chancellor he felt assured his words were prompted by the affection in
which he held him; and then having by a pathway of courteous speeches
found his way to the old man's heart, his majesty broached the subject
uppermost in his mind. His conscience and his honour, he said, for
he laid claim to both, led him to repair the ruin he had caused Lady
Castlemaine's reputation by promoting her to the position of a lady of
the bedchamber; and his gratitude prompted him to avow a friendship for
her, "which he owed as well to the memory of her father as to her own
person," and therefore he would not be restrained from her company and
her conversation.
Moreover, he had proceeded so far in the business, that if not
successful Lady Castlemaine would be subjected to all imaginable
contempt, and be exposed to universal ridicule. If, he added, the queen
conformed to his wishes in this regard, it would be the only hard thing
he should ever require of her; and, indeed, she might make it very
easy, for my lady must behave with all possible respect in her presence,
otherwise she should never see his face again. Then he begged the
chancellor to wait upon her majesty, lay bare his arguments, and urge
her to receive the countess with some show of favour. The chancellor,
though not pleased with his mission, yet in hope of healing private
discord and averting public scandal, undertook to counsel the queen to
obedience, and accordingly waited on her in her private apartments.
Now her majesty's education had been such as kept her in complete
ignorance of the world's ways. The greater part of her life had been
spent in the peaceful retirement of a convent, which she left for her
mother's country palace, a home scarcely less secluded. Maynard, in a
letter preserved in the State Paper Office, written from Lisbon when the
royal marriage was proposed, says the infanta, "as sweete a disposition
princess as everr was borne," was "bred hugely retired. She hath," he
continues, "hardly been tenn tymes out of the palace in her life. In
five years tyme she was not out of doores, untill she hurde of his
majestie's intentions to make her queen of Ingland, since which she hath
been to visit two saintes in the city; and very shortly shee intends to
pay her devotion to some saintes in the country."
From a life of innocence she was brought for the first time face to face
with vice, by one who should have been foremost in shielding her from
its contact. All her training taught her to avoid the contamination
sought to be forced upon her; all her new-born love for her husband
prompted her to loathe the mistress who shared his affections. A
stranger in a strange land, a slighted queen, a neglected wife, an
outraged woman, her sufferings were bitter, Her wrongs were hard to
bear. Therefore when my lord chancellor came and made known the object
of his visit, she broke into a passion of tears, and could not speak
from force of sobs that seemed to rend her heart, and wholly choked her
utterance.
The chancellor then retired with some dismay, but waited on her again
next day, when he found her more calm. She begged he would excuse the
outburst of feeling he had witnessed, but added very pitifully that when
she thought of her misfortunes "she sometimes gave vent to that passion
which was ready to break her heart." The advice, or, as he terms it,
"the evidence of his devotion," which the chancellor gave was worthy of
a courtier and a philosopher. He told the young queen he doubted "she
was little beholden to her education, that had given her no better
information of the follies and iniquities of mankind; of which he
presumed the climate from whence she came could have given more
instances than this cold region would afford." Had she been properly
instructed, he furthermore hinted, she would never have thought herself
so miserable, or her condition so insupportable; and indeed he could not
comprehend the reason of her loud complaint.
At this she could no longer suppress the tears which came into her dark
eyes, and cried out she did not expect to find her husband in love with
another woman. Then my lord besought her submission to the king; but she
remained unshaken in the resolution she had formed. She was ready to ask
his majesty's pardon for tiny passion or peevishness she had been guilty
of, but added, "the fire appearing in her eyes where the water was," she
would never endure the presence of his mistress; and rather than submit
to such insult she would "put herself on board any little vessel" and
return to Lisbon.
Back went the chancellor, with a heavy heart and a troubled face, to the
king. He softened the queen's words as much as possible, and assured his
majesty her resistance to his will proceeded "from the great passion
of love she had for him, which transported her beyond the limits of
reason." But this excuse, which should have rejoiced a husband's heart,
only irritated his majesty's temper. That night a violent quarrel took
place between the husband and wife, yet scarce more than bride and
bridegroom. When they had retired, the king--being inflamed with the
words of his courtiers, who assured him the dispute had now resolved
itself into a question of who should govern--reproached the queen with
stubbornness and want of duty; upon which she answered by charging him
with tyranny and lack of affection. One word borrowed another, till,
in his anger, he used threats when she declared she would leave the
kingdom. "The passion and noise of the night reached too many ears to
be a secret the next day," says the chancellor, "and the whole court was
full of that which ought to have been known to nobody."
When the royal pair met next morning, they neither looked at nor spoke
to each other. Days passed full of depression and gloom for the young
wife, who spent most of her time in seclusion, whilst the king sought
distraction in the society of his courtiers. The chancellor, after
his second interview with the queen, absented himself from court, not
wishing to be furthermore drawn into a quarrel which he saw himself
powerless to heal. During his absence the king wrote him a letter which
evinced determination to carry out his design. This epistle, preserved
in the library of the British Museum, runs as follows:
"HAMPTON COURT, THURSDAY MORNING.
"I forgot when you were here last to desire you to give Broderich good
council not to meddle any more with what concerns my Lady Castlemaine,
and to let him have a care how he is the author of any scandalous
reports; for if I find him guilty of any such thing, I will make him
repent it to the last moment of his life.
"And now I am entered on this matter, I think it very necessary to give
you a little good council in it, lest you may think that by making a
farther stir in the business you may divert me from my resolution, which
all the world shall never do; and I wish I may be unhappy in this world
and in the world to come, if I fail in the least degree of what I
have resolved, which is of making my Lady Castlemaine of my wife's
bedchamber. And whosoever I find in any endeavours to hinder this
resolution of mine (except it be only to myself), I will be his enemy
to the last moment of my life. You know how true a friend I have been to
you; if you will oblige me eternally, make this business as easy to me
as you can, of what opinion soever you are of; for I am resolved to
go through with this matter, let what will come on it, which again I
solemnly swear before Almighty God.
"Therefore, if you desire to have the continuance of my friendship,
meddle no more with this business except it be to bear down all false
and scandalous reports, and to facilitate what I am sure my honour is so
much concerned in. And whosoever I find is to be my Lady Castlemaine's
enemy in this matter, I do promise, upon my word, to be his enemy as
long as I live. You may show this letter to my lord lieutenant, and if
you have both a mind to oblige me, carry yourselves like friends to me
in this matter."
The chancellor was, soon after the receipt of this letter, summoned to
Hampton Court, when his majesty, with some passion, declared the
quarrel was spoken of everywhere, and wholly to his disadvantage. He was
therefore anxious to end it at once, and commanded my lord to wait again
upon the queen, and persuade her to his wishes. The chancellor informed
the king he "had much rather spend his pains in endeavouring to convert
his majesty from pursuing his resolution, which he did in his conscience
believe to be unjust, than in persuading her majesty to comply with it,
which yet he would very heartily do." Saying which, he departed on his
errand; to which the queen answered, her conscience would not allow her
to consent that the king's mistress should be one of her attendants.
Then the chancellor besought his royal master, saying he hoped he might
be no more consulted with, nor employed concerning an affair, in which
he had been so unsuccessful.
By reason of this opposition the king was now more resolved than ever to
honour his mistress and humble his wife; and, with a cruelty unusual to
his nature, determined to break her majesty's spirit, and force her into
obedience.
On coming to England the young bride had brought in her train some
Portuguese gentlewomen and nobles, whom she was anxious to employ in
various offices about her person, that she might not feel quite in the
midst of strangers. These his majesty believed were in some measure
answerable for the queen's resistance to his desires, and therefore
decided on sending them back to their own country; knowing moreover,
this was an act which would sorely grieve her majesty. Therefore,
without first deigning to inform, the Queen of Portugal, he named a day
for them to embark. This was a sad blow to the hopes of the Portuguese,
who had entertained high expectations of being placed in advantageous
circumstances about the court; nor did the king by any show of
liberality help to lessen their disappointment. The queen was indeed
afflicted at the prospect of their loss; and her mortification was
the greater because, having received no money since she came into the
kingdom, it was out of her power to make them compensation for their
services.
The thought of being deprived of her people in her present unhappy
condition rendered her so miserable, that she besought the king to allow
some of them to remain; and, likewise, she employed others to make the
same petition on her behalf. Therefore one of her ladies, the Countess
of Penalva, who had been her attendant since childhood, and who now,
because of weakness of sight and other infirmities, scarce ever left her
apartments, was allowed to stay, as were likewise "those necessary to
her religion," and some servants employed in her kitchen.
But these were not the only means the king took to thwart her majesty
and all connected with her. He upbraided the Portuguese ambassador for
not having instructed the queen "enough to make her unconcerned in
what had been before her time, and in which she could not reasonably be
concerned." Moreover he reproached him with the fact of the queen regent
having sent only half the marriage portion; and so harassed was the
ambassador by royal wrath, that he took to his bed, "and sustained such
a fever as brought him to the brink of the grave." Regarding that part
of the dowry which had arrived, Charles behaved in an equally ungracious
and undignified manner. He instructed the officers of the revenue to
use all strictness in its valuation, and not make any allowances. And
because Diego de Silva--whom the queen had designed for her treasurer,
and who on that account had undertaken to see the money paid in
London--did not make sufficient haste in the settlement of his accounts,
he was by the king's command cast into prison.
These various affronts grievously afflicted her majesty, but the insults
she had to endure before the whole court wounded her far more. For
meanwhile the king lodged his mistress in the royal household, and every
day she was present in the drawing-room, when his majesty entered into
pleasant conversation with her, while his wife sat patiently by, as
wholly unheeded as if unseen. When the queen occasionally rose and
indignantly left the apartment to relieve her anguish by a storm of
tears, it may be one or two of the courtiers followed her, but the vast
number of the brilliant throng remained; and Lord Clarendon adds,
"they, too, often said those things aloud which nobody ought to have
whispered."
Charles no longer appeared with the grave and troubled expression his
face had worn at the commencement of the quarrel, but seemed full of
pleasantry and eager for enjoyment. Those surrounding him took their
tone from the monarch, and followed his example the more because he "did
shew no countenance to any that belong to the queen." Her majesty, on
the contrary, took her misery to heart, and showed dejection by the
sadness of her face and listlessness of her gait. There was universal
diversion in all company but hers; sounds of laughter rang all day
and far into the night in every apartment of the palace but those
appropriated to her use. Charles steadily avoided her, and the
attendants who replaced her countrywomen showed more deference to the
king's mistress than to his queen. The solitary condition to which the
helpless foreigner and forsaken wife was reduced increased day by
day, her gloom deepened hour by hour, until, worn out by the unequal
conflict, her spirit broke. "At last," says Lord Clarendon, "when it
was least expected or suspected, the queen on a sudden let herself fall,
first to conversation, and then to familiarity, and even, in the same
instant, to a confidence with the lady; was merry with her in public,
talked kindly of her, and in private used no lady more friendly."
From that hour her majesty never interfered with the king's amours,
and never again did a quarrel rise between them even to the day of his
death.