Queen Henrietta watched the clock anxiously until the hour had passed, then turning to the treacherous Lady Carlisle she exultingly exclaimed: "Rejoice with me, for at this hour the king is, as I have reason to believe, master of his realm, for Pym and his confederates are arrested before now."
For this indiscretion King Charles paid dearly. He had been stopped at the entrance to the house of commons by a large number of persons, who presented petitions which he stood to read and discuss.
This delay afforded Lady Carlisle ample time to dispatch one of her agents to inform the persons marked for arrest. They fled just as Charles entered the house, and their party organized a plan of resistance on the spot. Insurrections followed, and the king and queen retired to Hampton Court to watch the result. Parliament then warned all the nobility to arm, and prevent the king from going further. King Charles was surprised; for he had not the least idea that any restraint would be put upon his personal freedom.
The queen then proposed that she should go to Holland, under pretence of conveying the princess-royal to her young spouse, the Prince of Orange, but in reality for the purpose of selling her jewels to provide the king with means of defence. No opposition was made to her departure, and the Prince of Orange received her most cordially. Not so the Dutch burgomasters, who treated her with marked disrespect at first; but by the end of one year she had so won them over by her tact, diplomacy, and courteous manners that she had raised upwards of two million pounds sterling, all of which had been forwarded to her husband, who had raised his standard at Nottingham and commenced a warlike struggle.
Meanwhile the Princess of Orange pursued her studies in Holland, where she soon won the affections of the people, and her alliance proved a most happy one.
A.D. 1643. Queen Henrietta set out on her return to England just a year after she had left. She sailed in an English ship, accompanied by eleven smaller ones filled with stores and ammunition for the king. The fleet was commanded by the Dutch admiral Von Tromp.
A tremendous gale blew them about for nearly a fortnight, the travellers suffering all the torments of sea-sickness, and expecting every moment to go to the bottom.
The queen behaved bravely on this trying occasion, and cheerfully replied to the wailing and lamentations of her ladies: "Comfort yourselves, mes chères; queens of England are never drowned." The poor priests on board were as sick as the rest, but they had to listen to the confessions of the terrified ladies and gentlemen, who bawled out their sins, regardless of the presence of others, in a way that must have been truly amusing.
At last the queen landed safely at a port near the Hague, having lost two of her ships. After two days' rest she again set sail, and made a quick voyage to Burlington, where, guarded by a thousand cavaliers on land, and Von Tromp at sea, she went ashore. The next morning, at dawn, five ships-of-war, that had entered the bay during the night, began a cannonade on the house where the queen was sleeping. She was obliged to rise in haste, put on her clothes, and seek shelter in a ditch some distance from the town of Burlington. Bullets fell thick about her as she hurried on foot to the place of shelter, and one of her servants was killed. Nevertheless, when Henrietta remembered that her favorite lap-dog had been left behind, she ran back, hastily climbed the stairs to her bed-chamber, caught up the animal, and carried it off in safety. One ball grazed the edge of the ditch where the royal party were concealed, and covered them with earth and stones. At night the attacking ships retreated, much to her majesty's relief, for she then remained quietly for ten days in the neighborhood of Burlington.
While there she distributed arms to those gentlemen who seemed loyally disposed, and thus gained many friends for the king.
A captain of one of the ships that had bombarded the queen's house on the morning after her arrival was caught on shore, tried by a military tribunal, and sentenced to be hung. The queen happened to meet the procession when the prisoner was being conducted to execution, and inquired what was the matter. She was told that King Charles's loyal subjects were about to punish a man who had aimed at her. "Ah," replied the queen, "but he did not kill me, and he shall not be put to death on my account." The captain was then set at liberty, and so deeply was he touched by Henrietta's generosity that he came over to the royal cause, and persuaded several of his shipmates to do likewise.
A.D. 1644. Previous to the battle of Newbury, so fatal to his cause, Charles escorted his wife to Abington, and there this devoted couple parted never to meet again.
The queen was ill when the Earl of Essex advanced with his army to besiege the city in which she had taken refuge; but rising from her bed she escaped in disguise with one lady, one gentleman, and her confessor, leaving behind her an infant only a few weeks old.
She hid for two days in a hut by the roadside three miles from Exeter, and lay couched under a heap of rubbish when the parliamentary soldiers marched by. She heard them say "that they meant to carry the head of Henrietta to London, and receive for it a reward of fifty thousand crowns." As soon as they were gone she stole out of her hiding-place, and with her three companions travelled on to a wood, which became the rendezvous that night for all her faithful attendants. Geoffrey Hudson, the dwarf, was of the number, and everybody was in disguise.
The whole party pushed on to the coast and embarked on board a friendly Dutch vessel.
Meanwhile the king, by a series of victories, had fought his way to Exeter, where he hoped to see his dear Henrietta, but she had been gone several days when he arrived. He beheld his new baby—a princess—for the first time, and had her baptized under the name of Henrietta Anne, after her mother and her good aunt in France.
Queen Henrietta did not reach her native land without another trial; for her vessel was chased by a cruiser in the service of parliament, and several cannon balls fired at it. The danger of being taken or sunk became so great that the queen took command of the vessel herself, had every sail set for speed, urged the pilot to keep straight on his course, and charged the captain to fire the powder magazine if escape were impossible. She was determined not to fall into the hands of her husband's enemies, and preferred death to the disgrace of being dragged captive to London.
However, she did not have to resort to such an extreme measure, for in a few hours she landed at Bretagne. Such a sorry spectacle did the queen and her attendants present that the natives took them for pirates and arose in arms against them; but no sooner were they convinced that it was the daughter of their beloved King Henry IV. who had sought refuge among them, than they speedily took measures to supply all her wants, and provided her with equipages to convey her to the baths of Bourbon, where she hoped to regain health and strength.
Anne of Austria, who was then queen-regent, sent her confidential lady-of-honor to Henrietta, with offers of all the assistance it was in the power of France to bestow, and supplied her with liberal sums of money; but Queen Henrietta stripped herself of every farthing she could command to send to her husband, over whose misfortunes she wept constantly.
Queen Henrietta was met on her return to Paris, and most affectionately welcomed by the queen-regent and the little King Louis IV., who escorted her to the Louvre, where a luxurious suite of apartments had been prepared for her. They treated her with the consideration due to a queen, and, as a daughter of France, she was supplied with the liberal income of twelve thousand crowns per month.
But she deprived herself even of necessary comforts in order that she might keep her suffering husband supplied. A few days after her arrival in her native land she removed to St. Germains, a country-palace that the queen-regent had placed at her disposal. There she lived in retirement, and her wants being less, she was enabled to save larger sums to send to England.
The affairs of King Charles had grown from bad to worse; and with his usual thoughtfulness for his family, he instructed his sons to escape from a country where neither he nor they could hope for protection.
A.D. 1645. Accordingly both the Prince of Wales and the Duke of York made their way to Paris, where they spent some time with their mother, then joined the English fleet that had forsaken the Cromwell party, and was lying off the coast of Holland.
The same year Lady Morton, who had been left at Exeter with the infant Henrietta Anne, made her escape, disguised as a beggar, and, with the child in her arms, travelled on until she placed her in her mother's lap. The queen's heart was gladdened at the sight of her little one, whom she covered with kisses, and called "child of benediction."
She had made up her mind that this little princess should become a Catholic, and for that reason appointed Père Gamache to instruct her.
Now, so long as the royal family of France were rich, Queen Henrietta shared their prosperity, and was treated with the utmost respect and consideration, but when their own civil wars reduced them to a state of destitution she had poverty added to her other troubles.
She behaved nobly when her sister-in-law, Anne of Austria, was in danger from the fury of her own subjects, and left her quiet retreat at St. Germains to share her danger in Paris during the battles of the Fronde and the Barricades. It was she who acted as peacemaker between the queen-regent and her people, and she had become such a favorite in France that after much trouble and many privations she finally succeeded in restoring order.
A.D. 1648. But the Christmas of 1648, before this was accomplished, Cardinal de Retz, who was one of the principal leaders of the Fronde, but a good friend to Queen Henrietta, found her shut up in an apartment of the Louvre with little Henrietta, without any fire, although it was a cold, snowy day. The sorrowing mother had kept the four-year old princess in bed lest she should suffer from the cold, but both were without food. The cardinal supplied the necessary comforts forthwith, and on the same day represented to the parliament of Paris the distress in which he had discovered the daughter of their former king. His eloquence was the outpouring of a kind heart, and met with an immediate response, for a subsidy of twenty thousand livres was instantly voted for the destitute queen.
Then she wrote to Lord Fairfax in England, asking his assistance, that she might see her husband once more. This letter was delivered to the house of commons, and contemptuously thrown aside, with the remark "that the writer had been voted guilty of high treason in 1643."
Thus ended all hope of being reunited to the husband whose afflictions she shared and for whose sake she would willingly have died. Added to this was the suspense the queen endured while the civil strife in Paris and its neighborhood rendered the passage of couriers impossible.
King Charles might well have escaped from England and joined his wife, but nothing could induce him to enter France as a supplicant sovereign. He preferred to suffer and struggle alone, through four long years of insult and abuse,—most shocking to us of the present day to read about.
The Roundheads grew so powerful that, with Oliver Cromwell for their leader, they became a body of ruffians, who either thrust into a dungeon or expelled any of their band who evinced the least mark of favor towards the king.
Through treachery Charles I. had fallen a prisoner in their hands. They showed him no mercy; they granted him no justice. A handful of self-appointed judges went through the mockery of a trial, and condemned their unfortunate sovereign to the block.
On the day before the execution Princess Elizabeth and the Duke of Gloucester, the only royal children who remained in England, were admitted to their father's prison to bid him farewell. They both sobbed passionately. King Charles drew them to his bosom with words of consolation, and solemnly blessed them.
He told the princess not to grieve for him, for his was a glorious death,—for the laws and religion of the land; advised her what books to read; bade her to forgive his enemies, as he hoped God would, and charged her to be obedient to her mother, and to tell her that his love for her would be the same to the last.
Then taking little Gloucester on his knee, he said: "Sweetheart, now will they cut off thy father's head. Heed, my child, what I say: they will cut off my head, and perhaps make thee king; but, mark what I say, you must not be a king so long as your brothers Charles and James live; therefore, I charge you, do not be made a king by them."
Earnestly looking up into his father's face, the boy replied: "I will be torn in pieces first." This unexpected answer pleased his majesty, who with a few more words of advice fervently kissed his children, and ordered them to be taken away. They sobbed aloud, and the king turned away as they passed out, and leaned his head against the window trying to repress his tears. While this painful interview was taking place Cromwell and his gang of ruffians sat in secret conclave to determine upon the hour of their victim's death; and some of them swore later that it was only violent threats on the part of their leader that forced them to place their signatures to the fatal warrant.
The noble and dignified bearing of the king as he ascended the scaffold was noticed by all who saw him, and the populace, who were kept at a distance by a dense mass of soldiers, wept amidst their blessings and prayers for the martyr king.
Charles made a short speech, saying that "if he had been a despot he might have remained their sovereign; but he died to preserve the liberties of the people of England." Some one touched the axe while he was speaking. "Have a care of the axe!" he exclaimed, "if the edge be spoiled it will be the worse for me."
Then his executioner kneeled before him and asked forgiveness. Charles drew himself up with proud dignity and replied;—"No! I forgive no subject of mine who comes deliberately to shed my blood."
He then said a short prayer, raised his eyes to heaven, then placed his head upon the block. It was severed with one blow, as a cry of agony arose from the horrified multitude.
Queen Henrietta did not hear of the dreadful fate that had overtaken her husband for several days; and when at last it was communicated to her, she stood motionless as a statue, without words or tears.
The visit of the Duchess de Vendôme, whom the queen tenderly loved, produced a change in the afflicted widow, who burst into a passionate fit of weeping at the tender words of sympathy expressed by her friend. She called herself the most miserable woman on the face of the earth, and resolved to retire with a few of her ladies to the Carmelite Convent in Paris. She well knew that for the future life could contain nothing but bitterness for her, and said: "I have lost a crown, but that I had long ceased to regret; it is my husband for whom I grieve,—the good, just, wise, virtuous man, so worthy of my love and that of his subjects."
She named herself La malheureuse reine, and mourned for King Charles to the day of her death.
A.D. 1649. Queen Henrietta was not long permitted to enjoy the peaceful retirement of the convent; for her son, the Prince of Wales, determined to return to England, and desired to consult his mother about it. She therefore met him at St. Germains in the summer of 1649, and afterwards returned with him to her former apartments at the Louvre.
In the following autumn, accompanied by his brother James, Duke of York, Charles went to the Isle of Jersey, where he was proclaimed King of Great Britain. Scotland acknowledged him next, and then followed the scenes of blood in Ireland, under the leadership of Cromwell, more horrible than any that had ever been witnessed in the world before.
Charles was absent more than two years; and while he was contesting for his hereditary rights his young brother and sister, who were still prisoners in England, were treated very harshly by the republicans.
A.D. 1650. In the September of 1650 Princess Elizabeth died of a malignant fever.
Cromwell had established a strong military despotism in the British Islands; and when Queen Henrietta demanded of him the payment of her dower, he replied: "That she had never been recognized as Queen-Consort of Great Britain by the people, consequently she had no right to a dower."
This was because she had refused, on account of her religious bigotry, to be crowned with the king.
But the usurper did her a great favor when he allowed the young Duke of Gloucester to return to her. The permit said: "That Henry Stuart, third son of the late Charles I., had leave to transport himself beyond seas."
Queen Henrietta treated her sons most harshly because they refused to become Catholics, and adhered to the Episcopal church; in consequence a great deal of ill-feeling and enmity had grown up between her and them, which at last drove them from her.
The young Duke of Gloucester went to Holland to live with his sister, the Princess of Orange, whose husband had died of small-pox a short time before she offered her brother an asylum.
Queen Henrietta remained at the Palais Royal with her youngest child as a guest of the queen-regent.
A.D. 1658. At last, in 1658, Cromwell died, and two years later Charles II. was restored to the throne of England, without the shedding of a single drop of blood. His brother, the young Duke of Gloucester, had accompanied Charles to England, where four months after the Restoration he died of small-pox.
A.D. 1660. In October of 1660 the Duke of York met Queen Henrietta and his youngest sister at Calais, where they embarked for England in grand state. The vessels were all decked with gay flags, and as each one discharged her cannon in regular order the noise was so great that it could be distinctly heard at Dover. The channel was so calm that its surface looked like a mirror. Not a breath of wind was stirring, and it was two days before the English fleet could accomplish the passage that usually took three or four hours. Fortunately the Duke of York had provided a sumptuous banquet for his mother, sister, and their whole retinue, which passed a few hours pleasantly, and saved the travellers from hunger.
When the queen reached Dover, Charles II. went on board the vessel to welcome her, and conducted her to Dover Castle, where a pleasant surprise awaited her.
Not only was a magnificent supper spread, but every member of the royal family of Stuart had assembled to receive Queen Henrietta, who once more had the satisfaction of embracing each of her children in turn.
For the moment she was happy, surrounded by those she loved; but after she reached London she was overcome by the deepest sorrow. The sight of the apartments once occupied by her husband agonized her, and it wrung her heart to look upon the spot where he had suffered and died. She sank into the deepest melancholy, and would shut herself up for hours at a time, denying admittance to any of her ladies.
Life in England became insupportable to the afflicted queen, and she determined to return to France.
A.D. 1661. In the evening of New Year's Day she gave an audience to those who desired to bid her farewell, and then retired to Hampton Court.
As the Princess Henrietta was engaged to be married to Philippe, the Duke of Orleans, parliament settled on her a liberal marriage-portion, and by the middle of January she sailed, with her mother, for France.
Two months later the marriage between Princess Henrietta and the Duke of Orleans was solemnized at the Palais Royal; and when the young couple went to pass the summer at Fontainebleau, Queen Henrietta retired to her favorite château of Colombe, a few miles from Paris. The following year the Duke and Duchess of Orleans made her a long visit, then accompanied her to Calais, where she embarked to return to England once more.
A.D. 1662. Charles II. had married Catharine of Braganza during his mother's absence, and the royal couple received Queen Henrietta affectionately, and welcomed her to Greenwich Palace. She remained with them until the summer, when Somerset House having been handsomely renovated, she set up her court there; but her health began to decline, and she sent for her son, the king, and told him that she could only regain strength in her native land. He urged her to repair to the Bourbon baths, though it grieved him sorely to part from his mother again.
A.D. 1665. She went first to her château of Colombe, where the King and Queen of France met and welcomed her, and after a short season of repose she proceeded to the baths of Bourbon.
A.D. 1669. But her health declined from year to year, and although her daughter and son-in-law were indefatigable in their loving attentions, and summoned the most celebrated physicians of Paris to her bedside, she expired suddenly and painlessly at midnight of August 31, 1669.
Charles II. and the Duke of York received the news with deep grief, and retired to Hampton Court, where they remained until all the mourning ceremonies were completed at Whitehall.
Louis XIV. ordered a general mourning to be observed throughout France for his aunt,—not because she was a queen of England so much as because she was the last child of Henry IV. of France.
It was on St. Catharine's day that this princess was born, in the year 1638, and it was in honor of that saint that she was named. When she came into the world, Portugal was under the rule of Spain, and had been so for sixty years, not because the Portuguese were contented with the despotic laws that governed them, but because they did not feel strong enough to fight for liberty.
When a nation considers itself oppressed by tyrannical laws, secret organizations are sure to be formed for the purpose of shaking off the yoke in one way or another.
In all the principal towns of Portugal these patriotic associations were formed at the time we speak of, for the purpose of throwing off the Spanish yoke; and the period was rapidly approaching when their efforts were to be crowned with success.
It was to the Duke of Braganza, Catharine's father, the last of the old royal line, that the larger party looked with hope and confidence. Meanwhile, with a desire to keep clear of the watchful eye of his foes and the dangerous intrigues of his friends, the duke removed to his Palace of Villa Vicosa with his beloved wife, the Donna Luiza, and his two little sons. While living at that most charming spot, that has been justly named a terrestrial paradise, the duchess added a daughter to her family circle,—the little Catharine, of whom we have spoken. She was baptized at the parish chapel during the following month, and her godfather was a Spanish grandee of high rank and enormous wealth. The ceremony was performed with great pomp, and gifts of considerable value were bestowed upon the little girl. She was such a pet in her family, that each birthday was the occasion of a sumptuous fête. On the second anniversary of her birth an incident occurred which connected the celebration of it with no less important a matter than the emancipation of Portugal from the Spanish yoke. On that day Don Gaspar Cortigno arrived at the Villa Vicosa, and requested an immediate interview with the duke. This being granted, he presented an appeal from his countrymen, urging the duke to declare himself their leader, and to accept the crown to which he was justly entitled.
A.D. 1640. The nobleman listened attentively to all that his visitor said; but he was at a loss for a reply, while, he thoughtfully considered his position. On the one hand was the Portuguese crown, which was his by inheritance, on the other the blessings of a happy home, with a charming, affectionate family, and the peaceful possession of estates, comprising not less than a third of the realm. Should he risk everything to embark upon an enterprise fraught with danger, perhaps ruin? He could not decide; but, like a dutiful husband, consulted Donna Luiza. Without a moment's hesitation, she replied: "This day our friends are assembled around us to celebrate the anniversary of the birth of our little Catharine; and who knows but this new guest may have been sent to certify to you that it is the will of Heaven, through especial grace, to invest you with that crown of which you have long been unjustly deprived by Spain. For my part I regard it as a happy presage that he comes on such day." Then lifting up her daughter, and holding her before the duke, she added, "How can you find it in your heart to refuse to confer on this child the rank of a king's daughter?" That was enough; the father decided, though the statesman had faltered; ambition for his children won the Duke of Braganza's consent, and thenceforth he would devote his life to the welfare of his country.
A few days later he removed with his family to Lisbon, where he was proclaimed king, under the title of Juan IV. Then began a fierce struggle, in which many battles were fought and won by the Portuguese against their powerful enemy. They were fighting for freedom, and their desperate charges counterbalanced the superior numbers of Spain. In moments of discouragement and despondency Donna Luiza was always near to fill her husband's breast with courage and hope.
A.D. 1644. England immediately recognized Don Juan as sovereign of Portugal; but the pope refused to do so, and was imitated by all the Catholic courts of Europe, excepting France. Four years were spent in battling for the liberty which was won at last by a decisive overthrow of the Spanish forces in 1644.
Having accomplished this, Juan IV. sent Sabran as ambassador to England to negotiate a marriage between the Prince of Wales, who afterwards became Charles II., and his little daughter Catharine. The treasury of King Charles was so nearly empty at that time, that the liberal dower Juan was able to bestow upon the infanta would no doubt have been very acceptable, but there were other considerations. Catharine of Braganza was a Catholic; and as the difference of religion had created so much unhappiness between himself and his own wife, Charles I. hesitated to thrust the same domestic infelicity on his son, who was
of course a Protestant. And so, for the time being, no decisive measures could be taken for the marriage.
A.D. 1656. Don Juan did not live long to enjoy the lofty position for which he had struggled so desperately; for he died towards the close of the year 1656, in the prime of life, but worn out with care and anxiety.
By her father's death Princess Catharine became an heiress of great wealth; for Don Juan left a will bequeathing to his daughter the island of Madeira, the city of Lanego, and the town of Moura, with all their territories and rents. She received other sources of income, besides, with the proviso that if she married in a foreign land, she was to relinquish all to the crown and receive the equivalent in money.
Donna Luiza carefully studied the aspect of affairs in other countries besides the one she ruled, and her penetration enabled her to foresee that the restoration of Charles II. to the throne of England was merely a matter of time. That being the case, she made up her mind to work for an alliance between that prince and her daughter, hoping thereby to strengthen the position of her own realm. All other proposals, therefore, for the hand of the infanta were regarded with disfavor.
The elder Princess Dowager of Orange was not so keen-sighted; for when Charles was sojourning at a village in Flanders, while he was still an exile, he fell in love with the Princess Henrietta, daughter of Frederick Henry, Prince of Orange, and would have married her, but the dowager declined the offer, saying, "that she saw no chance for the amendment of his fortunes."
A few months latter, when a deputation from parliament arrived with fifty thousand pounds for Prince Charles, and an invitation to return to England, the old lady could have bitten her tongue out for the blunder she had made, and endeavored to repair it. But Charles was too indignant to listen to any of her overtures, or ever to forgive the insult she had offered him in his adversity.
A.D. 1660. Henrietta was extremely anxious to see her eldest son united in marriage with a princess of her own faith; so, once when she was on a visit to England, she manoeuvred until matters were brought to such a point that the Portuguese ambassador was authorized to interview the prince's lord chamberlain on the subject. The former important personage was no other than Don Francisco de Mello, the godfather of Catharine. He began by praising the virtues of the king, and added, "that it was time he should bestow himself in marriage, and that nothing ought to keep him single but the difficulty of finding a suitable consort."
The lord chamberlain, Earl of Manchester, assented. Thereupon Don Francisco continued: "There is in Portugal a princess, in her beauty, person, and age, very fit for the king, who would have a portion suitable to her birth and quality. She is a Catholic, to be sure, and would never depart from her religion; but she has none of that meddling activity which sometimes makes persons of any faith troublesome when they come into a country where another mode of worship than their own is practised. She has been bred under a wise mother, who has taught her not to interfere in state affairs, of which she is entirely ignorant." The ambassador concluded by informing the earl that he was authorized to propose the princess for a wife to the king, accompanied with offers such as no other power in Europe could make.
This conversation was duly reported to Charles, who sent to Don Francisco for further particulars. An early interview was granted the ambassador, who repeated what he had said to the lord chamberlain, and added, furthermore, "that he was authorized to offer five hundred thousand pounds sterling in cash as a portion for the Infanta Catharine, besides the possession of Tangier, on the coast of Africa, which was to be made over to the crown of England forever. Free trade in the Brazil and the East Indies was to be granted to the English nation; and the island of Bombay, with its spacious bay, towns, and castles, was likewise to belong to them."
Charles was dazzled with such a brilliant offer, and hastened to consult Lord Clarendon, his prime minister, on the subject.
Clarendon refused to offer immediate advice, and asked, "whether his majesty had given up all thought of a Protestant wife."
Charles replied, "that he could not find one, except among his own subjects, and he had seen no one of their number, who had pleased him sufficiently for that purpose."
A secret meeting was then called of several members of his council, over which the king presided in person. He stated the business for which he had requested their presence, and pointed out the importance of Tangier for the benefit of trade on the Mediterranean sea.
One of the lords suggested the advisability of a Protestant queen. Charles asked "where he should find one?" Several German princesses were mentioned, whereupon he exclaimed, impatiently: "Odds fish! They are all dull and foggy; I cannot like one of them for a wife."
It was then unanimously agreed that a matrimonial treaty should be opened, with all possible secrecy, with Portugal.
Delighted with the success of his mission, Don Francisco de Mello offered to go back to his native land to complete the necessary arrangements. The court of Lisbon was filled with rejoicing when the object of Don Francisco's return was announced. He was rewarded with the title of Count da Ponte, and sent back to England with full power to conclude the marriage.
A.D. 1661. It was late in January when the count again set foot in London. To his surprise, the whole aspect of affairs had changed, and he could not even obtain an interview with the king.
The reason for the change was this: The representatives of Spain knew well that it would redound to their disadvantage if an alliance between the royal houses of England and Portugal should be cemented; they therefore endeavored to prevent it. One of their number happened to be on terms of intimacy with Charles, and could, therefore, speak plainly on the subject of his prospective marriage.
His arguments made little impression until he dared to attack the princess herself; but when he affirmed that she was ugly, deformed, and delicate, the king began to fear that perhaps he had allowed himself to be too easily influenced. The Earl of Bristol was a particular enemy of Clarendon, and prided himself on throwing a wet blanket over every project that minister seemed to favor. The earl had just returned from a visit to Portugal, and corroborated every statement made by the Spanish envoy, merely for the sake of opposition. At the same time he drew a graphic picture of some of the Italian princesses he had met, and assured the king that if he would make his selection from their number, the Spanish government would agree to give the lady of his choice as large a portion as though she were of their royal blood.
As Charles was not in love with Catharine of Braganza, never having laid eyes on her, he was easily turned from his purpose, and broke off all negotiations with the Portuguese court. But he did not abandon his intention to marry; and so despatched the Earl of Bristol to Parma to make minute inquiries as to the qualifications of the princesses of that court. The well-known fondness of Charles II. for handsome women obliged the earl to make his observations with great care; so when one glance at the ladies, on their way to church, convinced him that one was too fat, and both were too ugly, to please his royal master, he dared not present a favorable report.
Meanwhile the king had taken pains to inquire of other travellers who had been to Portugal, what sort of a woman the infanta really was; and the descriptions he got were so different from those presented by the Spaniards, that he altered his manner towards Don Francisco, and began to show him many marks of courtesy.
This enraged Vatteville, the Spanish ambassador, to such a degree, that he openly declared, "that he was directed by the king, his master, to let his majesty know, that, if he should proceed towards a marriage with the daughter of his rebel, the Duke of Braganza, he had orders to take his leave presently, and declare war against him."
This excited the king's indignation, and he manfully replied, "that the ambassador might be gone as soon as he liked."
Then Vatteville found that he had gone too far, and resorted to the most fulsome flattery in order to conciliate the irate king.
At last a special messenger arrived from France with a private communication from Louis XIV., expressing regret that any obstruction to the Portuguese match had arisen; and assuring King Charles that Catharine was a lady of rare beauty and accomplishments.
While Charles hesitated, he received a portrait of the dark-eyed infanta, which, after all, made a deeper impression on his heart than diplomatists, promises of wealth, or the reasoning of his lord-chancellor, could ever have accomplished. In this portrait the princess was represented as a brilliant brunette, with large, dark eyes, and a profusion of brown hair arranged in short curls on each side of the head, and falling to the waist in ringlets at the back. "This person cannot be unhandsome," said the king, gazing attentively on the face of the woman he was so soon to marry.
The ambassador was summoned, and requested to repeat to his majesty all that England was to gain in the event of his marriage with the Portuguese princess. Don Francisco assured Charles that the money he had promised in the name of the queen-regent was all sealed up in bags awaiting transportation; and that the fleet which was to be sent for the princess might even go first and take possession of Tangiers.
It was further agreed that the marriage should take place in England, although it was not customary for any princess to join her husband in a foreign land until after the ceremony had been performed with a proxy acting as bridegroom.
Donna Luiza preferred this arrangement, because the pope had never acknowledged the independence of Portugal; and, as it would be necessary to apply for a dispensation before a marriage could be contracted between a Catholic and a Protestant, she feared that he would mention Catharine only as the daughter of the Duke of Braganza, and not as a princess. This would have been a serious affront to the royal house of Portugal, and most injurious to their cause.
On his part, Charles avoided anything disagreeable that might arise at the coronation of a Catholic queen in England, by having himself crowned before such a person ex-
isted. Consequently, that ceremony was appointed for St. George's day, April 23, 1661, and was celebrated with great splendor and universal rejoicing.
The following month Charles II. opened parliament in person, and imparted the news that he intended to marry "the daughter of Portugal."
In June, the treaty which united England and Portugal was signed by King Charles at Whitehall; and the acquisition of Bombay, which it granted, gave England a foothold in India that she has retained ever since, as we know.
The contract secured for Catharine the free exercise of her religion and the privilege of fitting up a chapel in any palace she might occupy, besides a settled income of thirty thousand pounds a year, with full liberty to return to her native land, should she become a widow, without forfeiting her jointure.
Meanwhile, Vatteville was so enraged at being outdone, that, although a Catholic representative, he circulated papers among the populace, setting forth the ills that must necessarily arise in England from the introduction of a popish queen. He meant to do this secretly, but was caught in the act of distributing some of these documents from his own window among the soldiers. The king was so indignant that he sent his secretary of state to order the ambassador's immediate departure. Vatteville begged to be allowed to ask his majesty's pardon, but his request was not granted, and the troublesome busybody was obliged to go back to Spain without being permitted to speak to the king again.
There was great rejoicing in Lisbon when the Count da Ponte arrived with full power from the king to complete the arrangements for his marriage, and the streets rang with the cry of, "Long live the King of Great Britain, whom God hath raised to protect us from our implacable foes!" The count was the bearer of a letter from the king to Donna Luiza, as well as one to the princess, whom he addressed as "The Queen of Great Britain, my wife, and lady, whom God preserve." Both were considered fine specimens of letter-writing in their day, and prove Charles II. to have been a clever correspondent. As soon as the marriage treaty was ratified, Catharine was addressed as queen, and treated with the utmost deference at her brother's court. A great change had suddenly come to the life of this young girl, and she was called upon to fill a position for which she was totally unprepared, and to become the wife of a merry monarch, whose views of life were entirely different from her own. We cannot help pitying her at the outset. She had been brought up under the most rigid laws, kept in seclusion, and only began to appear in public after she assumed the proud title of Queen of England. Ignorant of the trials that awaited her in the future, Catharine watched for the arrival of the Earl of Sandwich and the fleet that was to convey her to England with the utmost impatience. No anxiety as to her fate marred the bright hopes of the young girl whose path seemed strewn with roses; she beheld not the hidden thorns while listening to the flattering representations of those around her, and prepared herself to leave her family and her native land without a pang.
It was not until he had cleared the Mediterranean of pirates, taught Algiers and Tunis to respect the British flag, and taken possession of Tangiers in the name of his sovereign, that the Earl of Sandwich made his appearance in the Bay of Lisbon. Now it happened that the Spanish troops were marching to besiege a seaport town near Lisbon just when the English ships sailed into the harbor, and as the town was not prepared for resistance, it must certainly have fallen, and the consequences have been disastrous to Portugal. But alarmed at the assistance that had come, just in the nick of time to their enemies, the Spaniards made a precipitate retreat, and Catharine congratulated herself upon being the means of saving her country from ruin.
Sir Richara Fanshawe was the bearer of a miniature of King Charles to his lady-love, accompanied by an affectionate letter. Catharine was delighted with it, and made numerous inquiries about her royal lover, whose romantic history had excited her admiration and wonder.
Charles passed the winter in making preparations for the reception of his bride; and while he was so engaged there were magnificent displays of fireworks, illuminations, and bull-fights at Lisbon for the amusement of the English guests; and the queen-regent was so well pleased with the Count da Ponte's good management, that she signified her approval of it by again promoting him. He was created Marquez de Sande.
The greatest formality was observed at the reception of the Earl of Sandwich, and no point of etiquette was omitted that might tend to add to the importance of the occasion.
The earl had the honor of being presented to the queen-regent and Queen Catharine, to whom he delivered letters from King Charles, written in Spanish.
Several English gentlemen of rank were presented to the Queen of Great Britain, who had been appointed officers of her household by the king, her husband, and she admitted them formally to their different posts.
Fêtes and rejoicings were the order of the day; and nothing else was thought of until the moment for handing over the money arrived. Then trouble began; and this is by no means the first instance of its arising from a similar cause.
In consequence of the late advance of the Spanish army, Donna Luiza had been compelled to fall back on some of the gold she had reserved for her daughter's portion, to meet the expenses incurred for the defence of her realm. So she sent for the Earl of Sandwich, and after making profuse apologies, and explaining her difficulty, offered to pay down half the promised sum at once, and pledged herself to deliver the rest within the year.
The ambassador was perplexed. He had been ordered to receive the entire sum, and knew perfectly well how much his sovereign depended upon it. Besides, he had already taken possession of Tangier, and had stationed an English garrison there. He dared not incur the expense of removing the troops back home, nor would his gallantry permit him to insult the lady he was sent to convey to England by leaving her behind. His was an exceedingly delicate position, and he behaved like a kind-hearted gentleman by consenting to receive Catharine with half the sum of money originally offered. Then rose another difficulty, which proves that Donna Luiza was more diplomatic than honest; for when it came to the delivery of the bags, they were found to contain, not gold, but sugar, spices, and other merchandise, which had been valued by the Portuguese at a much higher rate than was fair.
This was an imposition against which the Earl of Sandwich violently protested, but that did him no good, for he could get nothing else unless he would accept jewels, which he positively refused. After a great deal of argument, it was at last arranged that Diego Silvas, a man of wealth and excellent character, should accompany the goods as supercargo, dispose of them in London, and pay the sum realized thereon to the king's exchequer. At the same time a bond was given by the government of Portugal for the payment of the residue within the space of a year. Thus everything was settled at last, and the royal bride took her departure. Although she was leaving her mother and her native land, Catharine did not shed a tear. Everything seems to have been sacrificed for the formality of court etiquette—no sentiment being permissible.
The young queen, followed by the king and Don Pedro, her two brothers, the officers of the royal household, and a train of grandees, emerged from her apartments and descended the grand staircase to the main hall, where, at the entrance to the court chapel, she was met by her mother. This was the spot appointed for the leave-taking of the two queens. Catharine asked permission to kiss her mother's hand, whereupon Donna Luiza folded her in a fond embrace, and blessed her. Then they parted, and Catharine was led to her carriage between her two brothers. Before entering she turned and made a profound courtesy to the queen-mother, who forthwith retired. Perhaps in the privacy of her own chamber, this woman, who, though a queen, was still a mother, gave vent to the emotions she had schooled herself to conceal.
It was St. George's day, and that saint being the patron of Portugal as well as of England, the festival was celebrated with more than the customary splendor.
Amidst salvos of artillery the queen's barge approached the "Royal Charles," which carried eighty cannon and six hundred men, and Catharine was assisted to mount the ladder that had been built for her special use.
As soon as she got on board, a salute was fired by the British fleet, and answered by the Portuguese forts. Then, having been formally delivered over to the Earl of Sandwich, Queen Catharine was conducted to her cabin, where she bade farewell to her two brothers, who immediately returned to the city.
Everything was now ready for the fleet to set sail excepting the wind, which proved contrary, and prevented the ships from leaving the bay. That night there was a general illumination and a magnificent display of fireworks, both on land and water. The wind continued unfavorable throughout the next day, and the queen-mother sent frequently to inquire how her daughter fared on shipboard. There was no complaint to make; for the royal cabin and state-room were most luxuriously fitted up with damask furniture and curtains, costly carpets, and soft downy cushions.
A little surprise was prepared for Queen Catharine that night by her brother, the king, who with Don Pedro and a chosen party of courtiers, embarked in several barges with their musical instruments, and serenaded the departing princess, performing the music and singing the sonnets and madrigals that had been composed in honor of her nuptials.
On the morning of the twenty-fifth the wind changed and the voyage began. The fleet consisted of fourteen men-of-war; but only three, the "Royal Charles," the "Gloucester," and the "Royal James," were occupied by Catharine of Braganza, her attendants, and officers of state. The others contained the queen's equipage and the merchandise that represented half her dowry. There were more than a hundred Portuguese in Catharine's suite, the principal ones being two ladies of the highest rank, Donna Maria de Portugal, Countess de Penalva, and sister to the Marquis de Sande, and Donna Elvira de Vilpena, Countess de Ponteval. These were appointed to chaperon the bride. Six noble young ladies formed part of the suite also, and an English count very discourteously described them as "six frights, calling themselves maids-of-honor, and a duenna, another monster, who took the title of governess to these extraordinary beauties." Besides these, there were six chaplains, four bakers, a perfumer, and a barber.
The voyage to England was so tempestuous that some of the vessels had to put in at Mount's Bay for repairs. All the passengers suffered terribly from sea-sickness, and many of them from terror. The Duke of York's squadron awaited the fleet off the Isle of Wight, and as soon as it appeared in sight the royal brother-in-law sent his secretary in a boat to ask permission to kiss Queen Catharine's hand. Having obtained it, the duke, accompanied by Lord Chesterfield, the Duke of Ormond, Lord Carlingford, the Earl of Suffolk, and others, all in full dress, went in a barge to the admiral's ship. The Marquez de Sande received the party and conducted them to the royal cabin. Catharine, dressed in an English costume, was seated on a throne, under a richly embroidered canopy, when the duke was announced. She advanced to meet him; he knelt to kiss her hand, but she quickly raised him, and allowed him to salute her cheek. Then returning to her throne, Catharine conversed for a few minutes with his highness, her almoner, Russell, acting as interpreter. But the Duke of York spoke Spanish well; so in a few moments, after he had taken a seat by the queen's invitation on her left, he continued the conversation in that tongue.
When the royal brother-in-law retired, Catharine advanced beyond the canopy with him, but he tried to prevent it, telling her "she should recollect her rank," whereupon she sweetly replied, "that she wished to do that out of affection which she was not obliged to do." This answer pleased the duke so much that he called to see his sister-in-law every day, and a most friendly relation was established between them. On one occasion he expressed a desire to see her in her national dress; so the next day she received him attired as a Portuguese lady.
The fleet arrived at Portsmouth, May 13, the Duke of York's boat following the "Royal Charles," and the duke himself handed the queen to her barge, when she disembarked. Countess de Pontevel attended Catharine, but Countess Benalva was too ill to leave the ship. The governor of Portsmouth, the city officials, and the leading persons of the neighborhood assembled on the beach to welcome the queen, who entered an open carriage and drove through the principal streets, to gratify the people's desire for a look at her. She had the good sense to appear in an English costume, so that she would not seem so much of a stranger among her new subjects. It was not until five days after his bride landed at Portsmouth that King Charles found time to leave home. He was accompanied by Prince Rupert, his cousin, and attended by a troop of his bodyguard. On reaching Portsmouth he went directly to visit the queen. The Marquez de Sande and other dignitaries awaited his approach, and after being graciously received by the king, conducted him to an apartment, where he made his toilet before presenting himself to her majesty.
Catharine had been ill for several days with sore throat and cold, and was still confined to her bed, which, by the physician's order, she was forbidden to leave. But now that he had come, Charles was so anxious to see her that he insisted on entering her chamber at once. The Earl of Sandwich had the honor of attending him; and the interview, which was conducted in Spanish, was entirely satisfactory to all parties. Charles expressed his pleasure at seeing his bride, and kindly assured her that he was delighted to hear from her physician that her indisposition was not serious. She answered with so much prudence and discretion all the king's questions that when he returned to his apartments he congratulated himself on the fortunate choice that had been made for him.
The following morning Catharine was so much better that it was decided to have the marriage ceremony performed without delay. This was accordingly done after the manner of the Catholic ritual, no one being present but the Portuguese ambassador, a few nobles and ladies. After the queen's conscience was satisfied in this regard, it was necessary that the king's should be also; therefore a public Protestant ceremony took place in the afternoon, Sir Richard Fanshawe having the honor of being the king's groomsman.
The king was so delighted with his bride that he wrote his chancellor from Portsmouth: "I am so well satisfied that I cannot tell you how happy I am, and I must be the worst man living (which I hope I am not) if I be not a good husband, for I am confident that no two dispositions were ever better suited to each other than my wife's and mine."
The royal couple arrived at Hampton Court on the 29th, which, being the anniversary both of the king's birth and restoration, was observed as a national holiday. The usual rejoicings in honor of the queen's first appearance among her London subjects took place, and she was welcomed with every token of popular favor that could be devised. When their majesties alighted from their carriage they passed through a line of guards, and were closely followed by the two Portuguese countesses and other ladies and gentlemen of the royal household. The high officials were assembled at the palace to greet her majesty and kiss her hand, and the foreign ministers were also present to offer congratulations of their respective sovereigns. As her majesty passed through the long suites of rooms the nobility, gentry, and ladies of the court were presented to her according to their rank. Poor Queen Catharine was so fatigued by the time she had seen so many strange faces, made innumerable bows, and had her hand kissed ad nauseam, that she was obliged to retire to her bedroom for a short repose. The same evening the Duchess of York arrived from London to pay her respects to her royal sister-in-law. She was met by the king at the garden gate, and led at once to the presence of the queen, who embraced her affectionately. Then the royal family seated themselves in the queen's bed-chamber and partook of a cup of tea, or "China drink," as it was called when introduced into England only a year or two before.
However, Catharine of Braganza was the first tea-drinking queen of England, and no doubt she and her sister-in-law of York became quite well acquainted over their social cup the first day they met.
A portrait in the historical gallery at Versailles, painted by Lely, represents Catharine as a very pretty little woman at the time of her marriage. Her eyes, complexion, and hair are dark and handsome, and unmistakably those of a Spanish lady.
The queen's bed at Hampton Court was covered with crimson velvet, embroidered in silver, at a cost of eight thousand pounds, and was presented to Charles on his departure from Holland to assume the crown. The large mirror and toilet were of beaten gold,—a present from the queen-mother, Henrietta,—and the hangings were all of silk and gold, with embroidered canopies. Valuable paintings adorned the walls, luxurious carpets covered the floors, and magnificent Indian cabinets, brought from Portugal, stood in various parts of the palace.
The new and brilliant scenes by which Catharine was surrounded were all so strange that, while they interested her, she found them very fatiguing. She had been bred in a convent, as we know, and felt more real gratification in her daily devotional exercises than in the gayety in which she was often compelled to take a leading part, even when her interest was not awakened. She heard mass daily, and was disposed to spend so much time in her chapel that the