into the young queen of England's hand at parting a remarkably eloquent and affectionate letter; which, however, was ill-advised, inasmuch as it clearly exhorted the young princess, who was going to live amongst a protestant people, to a bigoted adherence to all the mischievous notions of the truth only of popery, and of the dangerous heresy of her future subjects. But no doubt this was the spirit which had been carefully instilled into her mind from the first prospect of this alliance, and was not long in producing its bitter fruits. The plague being rife in Calais, the royal procession, now under the guidance of Buckingham, took its way to Boulogne.
Charles, during this delay at Amiens, had been awaiting his wife at Canterbury, and he was destined to a fresh one through the licentious madness of Buckingham. No sooner did that most impudent of libertines reach the French court than he had the audacity to fall in love with the queen of France, the beautiful Anne of Austria, sister of the king of Spain. He lost no opportunity of pressing his suit on the way in the absence of the king, and had the presumption to imagine his daring passion returned. No sooner did he reach Boulogne, than pretending that he had received some despatches of importance, he hurried back to Amiens, where the French procession yet remained, and rushing into the bed-chamber of the queen, threw himself on his knees before her, and, regardless of the presence of two maids of honour, poured out the infamous protestations of his polluted passion. The queen repulsed him with an air of deep anger, and bade him begone in a tone of cutting severity, the reality of which, however, was doubted by Madame de Motteville, who recorded the occurrence.
The sensation excited by this unparalleled circumstance in the French court was intense. The king ordered the arrest of an number of the queen's attendants, and dismissed several of them. Yet Buckingham, on reaching England, does not appear to have received any serious censure from his infatuated master, for this breach of all ambassadorial decency and etiquette; and spite of the resentment of the French king and court, continued to maintain all the character of a devoted lover of the French queen.
On the 23rd of June the report of ordnance wafted over from Boulogne, announced the embarkation; and on Sunday evening she landed at Dover, after a very stormy passage. Mr. Tyrrwhit, a gentleman of the household, rode post haste to Canterbury to inform Charles, who was at Dover Castle by ten o'clock the next morning to greet his bride. Henrietta Maria was at breakfast when the king was announced, and instantly rose, and hastened down stairs to meet him. On seeing him, she attempted to kneel and kiss his hand, but he prevented her, by folding her in his arms and kissing her. She had studied a little set speech to address him with, but could only get out so much of it as, "Sire, je suis venue en ce pays de voire majesté, pour étre commandée de vous"—"Sire, I am come into your majesty's country to be at your command"—but at that point she burst into tears.
It would have been well for her had she always retained the sentiment of those words, but at present she was all amiability. The king, who had not seen her since his stolen view on his way to Spain, was surprised to find her so tall as to reach his shoulder, and looked down at her feet to ascertain whether there was no artificial elevation; on which she gaily put out her foot, saying, in French, "Sire, I stand upon my own feet. I have no help from art. Thus high am I, neither higher nor lower." She then presented to his majesty the duke and duchess of Chevreuse, the prince Charles's relative and proxy, the latter the most celebrated beauty and coquette of the French court; Madame St. George, the queen's governess and favourite, and the rest of her followers, who amounted only to about four hundred! Amongst these were no less than twenty-nine priests of one kind or another, and a rather juvenile bishop, being not thirty years of age.
Charles was delighted with the beauty and vivacity of the young queen. They set out for Canterbury, and on their way thither were met on Barham Downs by the English nobility; pavilions being pitched there for the purpose of the refreshment of the royal pair, and the introduction of the queen to her court. After the wedding, at which the celebrated English composer, Orlando Gibbons, performed on the organ, the royal cavalcade took its way to Gravesend, and thence ascended the Thames, so as to avoid the city, in which the plague was then raging. Thousands of boats of all kinds floated around the royal barge, and the fleet of fifty vessels lying ready for the Spanish expedition, discharged their ordnance as well as the Tower its guns. And thus, in the midst of a smart shower, they reached London Bridge, and made straight for Somerset House, which was the queen's dower palace. The assembled crowds all the way gave shouts of acclamation, and, spite of the queen's popery, every so was in a mood to be pleased with her. She shook her hand out of the barge window in return for the public greeting, and many anecdotes were circulated in her favour; as that on the vigil of St. John the Baptist, she had eaten both pheasant and venison at Canterbury, though her confessor had stood by her and reminded her that it was a fast; and that, when one of the English suite had asked her if her majesty could endure a Huguenot, she had answered, "Why not? was not my father one?"
But it was not long before she let her new subjects as well as the king see that she was of a wilful and haughty temper. The first time that she kept court at Whitehall, a Mr. Mordaunt, who was present, wrote the following: "The queen, however little in stature, is of a most charming countenance when pleased, but full of spirit, and seems to be of more than ordinary resolution. With one frown—divers of us being at Whitehall to see her—she drove us all out of the chamber, the room being somewhat over-heated with fire and company. I suppose none but a queen could have cast such a scowl."
But we must interrupt the domestic life of the king to notice the commencement of his public career. On the 18th of June, the day after the arrival of the queen, Charles met his first parliament. The king had not yet been crowned, but he appeared on the throne with his crown on his head. He ordered one of the bishops to read prayers before proceeding to business, and this was done so adroitly, that the catholic members were compelled to remain during the heretical service. They betrayed great uneasiness, some kneeling, some standing upright, and one unhappy individual continuing to cross himself the whole time.
