Henrietta Maria Part 6

The difficulties began with the arrival of Chateauneuf's successor, the Marquis of Fontenay-Mareuil, who threw himself on the side of Weston, and who soon found that he had to reckon with a foe in the person of the Chevalier de Jars. He met with little less opposition from Madame de Vantelet and from Father Philip, who disliked the ecclesiastical policy of the amba.s.sador, and who was himself disliked by the party of Richelieu, because as a subject of King Charles he was quite independent of France and could not be persuaded to use the great influence over the Queen which his position gave him in the interests of a foreign Government.[94] The Queen proved even more intractable. She refused to dismiss Father Philip at her eldest brother's request, and it was an ominous sign that in 1631 an agent of Monsieur was in England, even though Charles took care that his presence should be reported to the French authorities. When the news arrived of the execution of the gallant Montmorency, Henrietta spoke with pity of his fate, while her husband, who had many of the instincts of absolutism, readily allowed that it was a painful necessity.

Her friendship for Jars continued unabated in spite of the open enmity which that worthy showed to Fontenay-Mareuil, whose position was only rendered tolerable by the kindness of the King, who had not yet fallen under the domination of his wife in affairs, however much he might kiss and caress her. As for Henrietta, she was openly rude to the hapless amba.s.sador. She frankly told him that though she was obliged to receive him in his official capacity, out of respect for her brother, she would not discuss her private affairs with him, and wished to have as little to do with him personally as possible. It is not surprising that he was anxious to return to his own country.

Nor is it surprising that he took steps to clear himself from the name freely bestowed upon him. Apart from the clique of Chateauneuf's personal friends, of whom the chief perhaps were Holland and Montagu, he was fairly liked at Court, and he believed that, could he but unmask the intrigues of the Chevalier and of his patron Chateauneuf, he might yet triumph over his enemies. With this object in view he descended to a trick hardly in keeping either with his rank or with his office. One evening when he knew that the Chevalier would be away from home, he caused two of his servants to enter the rooms of his rival, where they carried on a burglarious search, which ended in a small cabinet containing letters finding its way into the hands of the amba.s.sador.

Jars, as was only to be expected, was exceedingly angry, but he believed that his influence with the King and the Queen would ensure his redress.

They did indeed take up the matter with great zeal, and, for a few days, nothing else was talked of at Court. But when Charles came to question Fontenay-Mareuil, the affair a.s.sumed a different complexion. The amba.s.sador did not attempt to deny the theft. He only said coolly that since Jars was a subject of the King of France, and since he had reason to believe that he was compromising his sovereign's interests, he was at liberty to take any steps which seemed good to him to discover the truth. The King of England was much struck by this reply, which fitted in well with his own theory and practice of statecraft. Moreover, much as he personally liked Jars, he distrusted the political party to which he belonged. He therefore determined to take no steps in the matter. He showed marked cordiality to Fontenay-Mareuil, and the Chevalier, to his infinite chagrin, had to submit to the loss of his papers, which were probably sent to Richelieu to help forward the disgrace of Chateauneuf.

For in the early spring of 1633 the Court of England was startled by the news of the arrest of that n.o.bleman and of the Chevalier de Jars, who had returned to France after the above incident. In a moment the power of those who were the Queen of England's friends in her native land seemed destroyed. Chateauneuf was sent into captivity at Angouleme. His fair charmer, Madame de Chevreuse, was forced into uncongenial retirement, which ended in her dramatic escape, dressed up as a man, across the Pyrenees into Spain. While for Jars was reserved a still harder lot. Two years of rigorous imprisonment in the Bastille were followed by a sentence of death, p.r.o.nounced by one who was known as the "bourreau du Cardinal." It was only as the victim kneeled upon the scaffold awaiting the stroke of the executioner that he received, by the tardy mercy of Richelieu, a reprieve from death, a reprieve so sudden and startling that for many minutes he was too stunned to appreciate his good fortune, which, however, was none too great, for he was reconducted to his prison, whence all the efforts of his friends, headed by the Queen of England, were long unavailing to drag him.

It was not indeed likely that Richelieu would look favourably on a request proferred by Henrietta, for he was beginning to feel that distrust of her which never left him to the end of his life. Among the letters which the _affaire_ Chateauneuf placed in his power were many written by English hands, those of Holland, of Montagu, of the Queen herself. He knew also that the royal lady had spoken slighting words of him, saying that Chateauneuf was no partic.i.p.ant of the evil counsels of the Cardinal, and that after the death of the latter he would be able to fill his place much more worthily. This information, moreover, came from an unimpeachable source, none other than the Treasurer of England. Weston indeed watched with no ordinary interest the course of events in France, and it is not surprising that he did not scruple to report to the Cardinal the uncomplimentary remarks of the Queen of England. The enemies of Richelieu were his own, and their overthrow prepared the way for his victory, which, though on a smaller scale and of less dramatic quality, was equally decisive.

In the spring of 1633, not long after the fall of Chateauneuf, Jerome Weston, the son of the Treasurer, was on his way home from Paris, whither he had been as amba.s.sador. On the journey he happened to fall in with a letter which he thought to be written by the Earl of Holland, and remembering the hostility of that n.o.bleman to his father, he took possession of it. On opening the packet he found within a letter addressed in the Queen's handwriting, which he did not presume to unfold; but on his arrival in London laid it, just as he had found it, in the hands of the King.

It appears that the letter was of trifling importance, being nothing more than one of the many which, at different times, Henrietta Maria wrote on behalf of the Chevalier de Jars to Cardinal Richelieu. But Holland, not unnaturally perhaps, felt that he had been insulted, and he probably thought that the King would see in Jerome Weston's conduct an affront to his wife. In a moment of imprudence he sent a challenge by the hands of Henry Jermyn to the Treasurer's son, asking for satisfaction. The latter, instead of sending an answer in the way usual in such cases, informed his father of what had occurred, and Portland without delay laid the matter before the King. This trifling incident thus became the touchstone of the respective influence of the Treasurer and of the cabal which was trying to ruin him. It was the former who came off victorious. Charles' trust in his minister was not to be shaken, while he was exceedingly angry with Holland.

To his punctilious mind it seemed intolerable that a n.o.bleman of his own council should send a challenge to one of his servants on account of an act performed in his official capacity. His orders were sharp and stern.

Jermyn, as an accessory, was to be confined in a private house, while Holland was ordered to retire to the beautiful mansion at Kensington, which he had acquired with his wealthy wife Isabel Cope, and there to remain during His Majesty's pleasure. All believed that the day of the brilliant Earl was over, and that his friends, particularly Montagu and Madame de Vantelet, would share in his fall. Holland House was indeed a gilded prison, but the prisoner was made to feel that the sentence had not been p.r.o.nounced in play, for when he showed a disposition to amuse himself with his friends, Charles sent a stern rebuke, forbidding him to receive company. Everything pointed to a complete withdrawal of royal favour.

But Henrietta, as she proved in the case of Jars and of many others, was a good friend. She was truly attached to Holland, who was not only possessed of unrivalled grace of person and manner, but was connected in her mind with the happy memory of her marriage. Exerting all the strength of her growing influence over her husband--an influence which was increased by the fact that she was about again to become a mother[95]--she succeeded in winning the pardon of the now repentant Earl. Handsome and brilliant as ever, Holland reappeared in the drawing-rooms of the Queen, and his accomplices, Jermyn, Montagu, and Madame de Vantelet, seemed to be in as high favour at Court as before the occurrence of this untoward event.

But, nevertheless, Portland was the victor. Charles' eyes had been opened to see the machinations of the enemies of his minister who, notwithstanding the smothered hostility of the Queen and her circle, preserved his confidence until his death. Henrietta's first attempt to play the game of politics--an attempt into which she had been drawn by her friends with probably little volition or comprehension of her own--had ended on both sides of the Channel in sorry failure. In France her friends were scattered and exiled, and the great Cardinal was stronger than ever; in England she had proved her power to touch her husband's heart, but not to rule his counsels.

But other days were coming. In March, 1635, Portland died. As Charles grew older his disposition to keep the direction of affairs in his own hands grew also, and as Buckingham had had no real successor so Portland had none. Instead, his heritage of influence and power was divided among several heirs, one of whom was the Queen of England. Hardly was the Treasurer in his grave when Henrietta Maria began to show an interest in political concerns which she had not previously displayed.

She was now twenty-five years of age, and her early marriage had brought with it an early development of character. She had outgrown the levity of extreme youth, and her acute and energetic mind was beginning to feel and respond to the stimulus of affairs. She had not lived for ten years with her husband without being aware of the difficulties of his sombre and obstinate character,[96] but she knew also his great love for her, and she was encouraged by the fact that her devoted servant the Earl of Holland had been restored to more than his former place in Charles' confidence. Perhaps the hostile influence which she most feared was that of Laud, for whom the King had a regard not only as an ecclesiastic after his own heart, but as a friend and protege of Buckingham. There was also another and a stronger mind from which she instinctively shrank, but Wentworth was far away in Ireland, and, at the time, seldom came into personal relation with her. But though it is unquestionable that the disappearance of Portland marks a change which came over the spirit of the Queen, yet that change may easily be exaggerated. It was, moreover, very gradual, and only became complete in the dark days which preceded the Civil War. For the present, though the instincts of intrigue inherent in the Medici blood were aroused, yet her chief interests remained those of the normal young married woman, her husband, her babies, her home. If she entered into political matters, as she had not done in earlier years, yet her efforts were intermittent, and two independent witnesses attest with regret the indifference of her attempts to win over the Ministers of State, and the slightness of the part which she played in public life.[97] Nevertheless, as the death of Buckingham gave her ascendancy over her husband's heart, so that of Portland paved the way for the ascendancy which she gradually acquired over his mind.

It was not to be expected that Henrietta's development of character, slight and gradual though it might be, would escape the vigilant eyes fixed upon her from across the Channel. Portland's death was a blow to Richelieu, who, with a European war about to begin, could not afford the hostility of England. He did not like Henrietta, but he was too acute not to appreciate that her character was of the feminine type, which is largely dependent upon personal influence, and he hoped that the removal of Chateauneuf and Jars would lead to a return on her part to such sentiments as he conceived to be fitting towards her native land, in other words, towards himself, for to the Cardinal even more than to Louis XIV "l'Etat c'est moi." When he heard how all the courtiers of England, and even the Archbishop of Canterbury himself, were trying to win her favour, he felt that he must take some pains to recapture her. His schemes--the details of which may be read in the dispatches which he wrote and received--were not quite unsuccessful. Henrietta, for a few years, did show a certain friendliness towards him, and perhaps, had he complied at once with her wishes in releasing Jars, he might have won her real friendship.[98] Her friends in England were not neglected. The unstable Montagu, who at this time had great influence over her, and who was attempting, quite unsuccessfully, to make Richelieu forget the part he had played in Chateauneuf's schemes, was rewarded for his shuffling by the offer of a pension, which, however, the Queen thought it prudent he should refuse.[99] Certainly grievances of her French servants were removed. Madame de Vantelet's pension was restored, while in 1637 Francis Windbank, one of the Secretaries of State, who was becoming involved in her schemes, was delicately asked to accept a present in lieu of the less respectable pension.[100]

[Ill.u.s.tration: CHARLES I AND HENRIETTA MARIA

FROM THE PAINTING BY VAN DYCK IN THE GALLERIA PITTI, FLORENCE]

But Richelieu, in spite of all his schemes, was by now aware of one fact, which redounds greatly to Henrietta's credit: he recognized that she would never be an Anne of Austria, an alien and spy in the Court of her husband, and that all he could hope for was to win her as a friendly ally who should counteract in some degree the pro-Spanish tendencies of the King. "The Queen of England," ran the instructions given to an amba.s.sador who was starting for London, "shows herself always very well disposed towards France. But care must be taken, and she must not be required to act beyond that which she considers may contribute to the common good of the two crowns."[101]

For as the years rolled on the union between Charles and Henrietta proved to be no pa.s.sing affection born of youth and beauty, but the deep and increasing love of true marriage. It was as impossible for Henrietta as for any other good wife, whether princess or peasant, to consider a course of action apart from the interests of her husband, and those who had dealings with her had to learn, sometimes painfully, that her first consideration must always be he of whom she was accustomed to write, with pretty formality, as "le roi Monseigneur."

She is considered, and rightly, to be a Queen of Tragedy. But in any estimate of her life it must be remembered that she had at least twelve years of such happiness as seldom falls to the lot of a royal woman. If later she was to find out that

"There is no worldly pleasure here below Which by experience doth not folly prove,"

now she was learning

"But among all the follies that I know The sweetest folly in the world is love";[102]

and thus rank and riches, which to the unhappy are but an aggravation of their misery, could yield to her their truest pleasure. Moreover, she never had to learn, like poor Anne of Austria, how

"Rich discontent's a glorious h.e.l.l."[103]

Sorrow, when it came, stripped her bare of the mocking accessories of joy.

[Footnote 61: In England Henrietta Maria was known as Queen Mary, but she always used the signature "Henriette Marie."]

[Footnote 62: _Cal. S.P. Dom._, 1625-6, p. 415.]

[Footnote 63: Sir Theodore Mayerne.]

[Footnote 64: Henry Percy to Earl of Carlisle. _Cal. S.P. Dom._, 1625-49, p. 292.]

[Footnote 65: _Cal. S.P. Dom._, 1628-9, p. 412. (Dec., 1628.)]

[Footnote 66: Green: _Letters of Queen Henrietta Maria_, p. 15.]

[Footnote 67: William Habington: "Castara."]

[Footnote 68: Sir Theodore Mayerne: _Cal. S.P. Dom._, 1628-9, p. 548.]

[Footnote 69: See chapter IV.]

[Footnote 70: Green: _Letters of Queen Henrietta Maria_, p. 17.]

[Footnote 71: _Ibid._, p. 18.]

[Footnote 72: Mary, who married the Prince of Orange; James, afterwards King of England; Elizabeth; Henry, Duke of Gloucester; Henrietta Anne, d.u.c.h.ess of Orleans; Anne, who died as an infant, and another daughter, who also died in infancy.]

[Footnote 73: Her character is described at length in "The Character of the Most Excellent Lady Lucy of Carlisle," by Sir Tobie Matthews, prefixed to _A Collection of Letters made by Sir Tobie Matthews, K.C._ (1660).]

[Footnote 74: Those of Rochefoucault.]

[Footnote 75: In 1626 she was in debt to the amount of 6662 16s. 9d. to various tradesmen; it was her custom, as that of former Queen-Consorts, to employ chiefly foreign tradesmen and workmen.]

[Footnote 76: The Queen saw it twice; the music was written by Simon Ivy and Henry Lawes.]

[Footnote 77: _Cal. S.P. Dom._, 1625-6, p. 273.]

[Footnote 78: In later days Henrietta Maria could say with Katharine of Aragon,

"I am not such a truant since my coming As not to know the language I have liv'd in."

for her children grew up unable to speak French, and Mme de Motteville says that she had spoilt her French by talking English. Perhaps even now it was only the accent which was at fault. Probably she never wrote English with ease. Her first letter written in that language is to Lord Finch; the date is about 1641. Green: _Letters of Queen Henrietta Maria_, p. 28.]

[Footnote 79: _The Shepherd's Paradise: a comedy_ (1659).]

[Footnote 80: Sir John Suckling: "A Session of the Poets."]

[Footnote 81: He was the Queen's Lord Steward.]

[Footnote 82: Edmund Waller.]