Charles II

OLIVER CROMWELL.

/IDal?er5 of llDistoii?

4

Charles II.

By JACOB ABBOTT

WITH ENGRAVINGS

NEW YORK AND LONDON

HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS

1900

Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year one thousand
eight hundred and forty-nine, by

Harper & Brothers,

in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the Southern District
of New York.

Copyright, 1877, by Jacob Abbott.
SOUBCE tTNKNOWN

MAY 171945

PREFACE.

The author of this series has made it his spe-
cial object to confine himself very strictly, even
in the most minute details which he records, to
historic truth. The narratives are not tales
founded upon history, but history itself, with-
out any embellishment or any deviations from
the strict truth, so far as it can now be discov-
ered by an attentive examination of the annals
written at the time when the events them-
selves occurred. In writing the narratives,
the author has endeavored to avail himself of ' ' ^
the best sources of information which this
country affords ; and though, of course, there
must be in these volumes, as in all historical
accounts, more or less of imperfection and er-
ror, there is no intentional embellishment.
Nothing is stated, not even the most minute

viii Preface.

and apparently imaginary details, without what
was deemed good historical authority. The
readers, therefore, may rely upon the record
as the truth, and nothing but the truth, so far
as an honest purpose and a careful examina-
tion have been effectual in ascertaining it.

CONTENTS.

Chapter F*g«

I. INFANCY 13

II. PRiNCB Charles's mother 30

III. QUEEN Henrietta's flight 52

IV. ESCAPE OF THE CHILDREN 73

V. THE prince's RECEPTION AT PARIS 95

VI. NEGOTIATIONS WITH ANNE MARIA 112

VII. THE ROYAL OAK OF BOSCOBEL 138

VIII. THE king's ESCAPE TO FRANCE 174

IX. THE RESTORATION 197

X. THE MARRIAGE 216

XI. CHARACTER AND REIGN 243

XII. CONCLUSION 283

ENGRAVINGS.

THE DUTCH SQUADRON IN THE THAMES FrOUtispieCe.

THE PARTING AT DOVER 36

VIEW OF EXETER 55

THE LOUVRE 74

ESCAPE OF THE PRINCESS HENRIETTA 81

THE EVASION OF LOUIS THE FOURTEENTH 116

VIEW OF WORCESTER 146

THE KING AT BOSCOBEL 169

CHARLES THE SECOND 213

THE BRIDAL PARTS' AT LISBON 236

CATHARINE OF BRAGANZA 240

THE BROADSTONE . 261

THE MONUMENT 265

KING CHARLES II.

Chapter 1.
Infancy.

Charlea the Fint and Second. The name Charles dropped

jT'ING CHARLES THE SECOND was

-'-^ the son and successor of King Charles the
First. These two are the only kings of the name
of Charles that have appeared, thus far, in the
line of English sovereigns. Nor is it very prob-
a ble that there will soon be another. The reigns
of both these monarohs were stained and tar-
nished with many vices and crimes, and dark-
ened by national disasters of every kind, and
the name is thus oonneoted with so many pain-
ful associations in the minds of men, that it
seems to have been dropped, by common con-
sent, in all branches of the royal family.

The reign of Charles the First, as will be seen
oy the history of his life in this series, was char-
acterized by a long and obstinate contest be-
tween the king and the people, which brought
on at last a civil war, in which the king was

14 King Charles II. [1630

IVoablee of Charles's early life. A liinila

defeated and taken prisoner, and in the end be-
headed on a block, before one of his own pala-
ces. During the last stages of this terrible con-
test, and before Charles was himself taken pris-
oner, he was, as it were, a fugitive and an out-
law in his own dominions. His wife and fam-
ily were scattered in various foreign lands, hia
cities and castles were in the hands of his ene-
mies, and his oldest son, the prince Charles, was
the object of special hostility. The prince in-
curred, therefore, a great many dangers, and
suffered many heavy calamities in his early
years. He lived to see these calamities pass
away, and, after they were gone, he enjoyed, sc
far as his own personal safety and welfare were
concerned, a tranquil and prosperous life. The
storm, however, of trial and suffering which en-
veloped the evening of his father's days, dark-
ened the morning of his own. The life of Charles
the First was a river rising gently, from quiet
springs, in a scene of verdure and sunshine, an^
flowing gradually into rugged and gloomy re-
gions, where at last it falls into a terrific abyss,
enveloped in darkness and storms. That of
Charles the Second, on the other hand, rising
in the wild and rugged mountains where the
parent stream was ingulfed, oommences ita

1630.] Infancy. 15

Henrietta Maria. Her character and religion

course by leaping frightfully from precipice to
precipice, with turbid anJ foaming waters, but
emerges at last into a smooth and smiling land,
and flows through it prosperously to the sea.

Prince Charles's mother, the wife of Charles
the First, was a French princess. Her name
was Henrietta Maria. She was an accom-
plished, beautiful, and very spirited woman.
She was a Catholic, and the English people,
who were very decided in their hostility to the
Catholic faith, were extremely jealous of her.
They watched all her movements with the ut-
most suspicion. They were very unwilling that
an heir to the crown should arise in her family.
The animosity which they felt against her hus-
band the king, which was becoming every day
more and more bitter, seemed to be doubly in-
veterate and intense toward her. They publish-
ed pamphlets, in which they called her a daugh-
ter of Heth, a Canaanite, and an idolatress, and
expressed hopes that from such a worse than
pagan stock no progeny should ever spring.

Henrietta was at this time — 1630 — twenty-
one years of age, and had been married about
four years. She had had one son, who had died
a few days after his birth. Of course, she did
not lead a >>ery happy life in England. He?

16 Kino Charles 11. [1630.

Religloas dissensions. Birth of the prince

husband the king, like the majority of the En-
glish people, was a Protestant, and the differ*
ence was a far more important circumstance in
those days than it would be now ; though even
now a difference in religious faith, on points
which either party deems essential^ is, in mar.
ried life, an obstacle to domestic happiness,
which coiixes to no termination, and admits of
no cure. If it were possible for reason and re-
flection to control the impetuous impulses of
youthful hearts, such differences of religious
faith would be regarded, where they exist, as
an insurmountable objection to a matrimonial
union.

The queen, made thus unhappy by religious
dissensions with her husband, and by the pub-
lic odium of which she was the object, lived in
considerable retirement and seclusion at St.
James's Palace, in Westminster, which is the
western part of London. Here her second son,
the subject of this history, was born, in May,
1630, which was ten years after the landing of
the pilgrims on the Plymouth rock. The babe
was very far from being pretty, though he grew
up at last to be quite a handsome man. King
Charles was very much pleased at the birth of
bis son. He rode into London the next mom-

1630.] Infancy. 17

1^ king gives public thankj. The it«r seen at midday.

iiig at the head of a long train of guards and
noble attendants, to the great cathedral church
of St. Paul's, to render thanks publicly to God
for the birth of his child and the safety of the
queen. While this procession was going through
the streets, all London being out to gaze upon
it, the attention of the vast crowd was attract-
ed to the appearance of a star glimmering faint*
ly in the sky at midday. This is an occurrence
not very uncommon, though it seldom, perhaps,
uoours when it has so many observers to wit-
ness it. The star was doubtless Venus, which,
in certain circumstances, is often bright enough
to be seen when the sun is above the horizon.
The populace of London, however, who were
not in those days very profound astronomers, re-
garded the shining of the star as a supernatu-
ral occurrence altogether, and as portending the
future greatness and glory of the prince whose
natal day it thus unexpectedly adorned.

Preparations were made for the baptism of
the young prince in July. The baptism of a
prince is an important affair, and there was
one circumstance which gave a peculiar inter-
est to that of the infant Charles. The Refor-
mation had not been long established in En-
gland, and this happened to be the first ocoa>
B

18 King Charles IL [1630.

The baptism. The epoDsors

sion on which an heir to the English crown had
been baptized since the Liturgy of the English
Church had been arranged. There is a chapel
connected with the palace of St. James, as is
asual with royal palaces in Europe, and even,
in fact, with the private castles and mansion?
of the higher nobility. The baptism took place
there. On such occasions it is usual for certain
persons to appear as sponsors, as they are called,
who undertake to answer for the safe and care-
ful instruction of the child in the principles of
the Christian faith. This is, of course, mainly
a form, the real function of the sponsors being
confined, as it would appear, to making mag-
nificent presents to their young godchild, in ac-
knowledgment of the distinguished honor con-
ferred upon them by their designation to the
office which they hold. The sponsors, on this oc-
casion, were certain royal personages in France,
the relatives of the queen. They could not ap-
pear personally, and so they appointed proxies
from among the higher nobility of England,
who appeared at the baptism in their stead, and
made the presents to the child. One of these
proxies was a duchess, whese gift was a jewel
valued at a sum in English money equal to thir-
ty thousand dollars.

1630.J Infancy. 19

floagehold of the little prince. Fees to servants and attendaBts

The oldest son of a king of England receives
the title of Prince of Wales ; and there was an
ancient custom of the realm, that an infant
prince of Wales should be under the care, in his
earliest years, of a Welsh nurse, so that the
first words which he should learn to speak might
be the vernacular language of his principality.
Such a nurse was provided for Charles. Rock-
ers for his cradle were appointed, and many oth-
er officers of his household, all the arrange-
ments being made in a very magnificent and
sumptuous manner. It is the custom in En-
gland to pay fees to the servants by which a
lady or gentleman is attended, even when a
guest in private dwellings ; and some idea may
be formed of the scale on which the pageantry
of this occasion was conducted, from the fact
that one of the lady sponsors who rode to the
palace in the queen's carriage, which was sent
for her on this occasion, paid a sum equal to
fifty dollars each to six running footmen who
attended the carriage, and a hundred dollars to
the coachman ; while a number of knights who
came on horseback and in armor to attend upon
the carriage, as it moved to the palace, receiv-
ed each a gratuity of two hundred and fifty dol-
lars. The state dresses on the occasion of this

20 King Charles II. [1630.

Portrait of the prince. The peoi.le jealous of his mother.

baptism were very costly and splendid, being
of white satin trimmed with crimson.

The little prince was thus an object of great
attention at the very commencement of his days.
His mother had his portrait painted, and sent
it to her mother in France. She did not, how-
ever, in the letters which accompanied the pic-
ture, though his mother, praise the beauty of
her child. She said, in fact, that he was so
ugly that she was ashamed of him, though his
size and plumpness, she added, atoned for the
want of beauty. And then he was so comical-
ly serious and grave in the expression of his
countenance! the queen said she verily believ-
ed that he was wiser than herself.

As the young prince advanced in years, the
religious and political difficulties in the English
nation increased, and by the time that he had
arrived at an age when he could begin to re-
ceive impressions from the conversation and in-
tercourse of those around him, the Parliament
began to be very jealous of the influence which
his mother might exert. They were extreme-
ly anxious that he should be educated a Prot-
estant, and were very much afraid that his
mother would contrive \o initiate him secretly
into the ideas and practices of the Catholic faith

1630.] Infancy. 21

The crncifix and rocary. Action of ParUamanti

She insisted that she did not attempt to do this,
and perhaps she did not; but in those days it
was often considered right to make false pre-
tensions and to deceive, so far as this was nec-
essary to promote the cause of true religion
The queen did certainly make some efforts tc
instill Catholic principles into the minds of some
of her children; for she had other children aftei
the birth of Charles. She gave a daughter a
crucifix one day, which is a little image of Christ
upon the cross, made usually of ivory, or silver,
or gold, and also a rosary, which is a string of
beads, by means of which the Catholics are as-
sisted to count their prayers. Henrietta gave
these things to her daughter secretly, and told
her to hide them in her pocket, and taught her
how to use them. The Parliament considered
such attempts to influence the minds of the roy-
al children as very heinous sins, and they made
such arrangements for secluding the young
prince Charles from his mother, and putting the
others under the guidance of Protestant teach-
ers and governors, as very much interfered with
Henrietta's desires to enjoy the society of her
children. Since England was a Protestant
realm, a Catholic lady, in marrying an English
king, ought not to have expected, perhaps, to

22 Kino Charles 11. [1630

The Britiah Mosetim. Letter from Henrietta

have been allowed to bring up her children in
her own faith ; still, it must have been very hard
for a mother to be forbidden to teach her own
children what she undoubtedly believed was the
only possible means of securing for them the fa-
vor and protection of Heaven.

There is in London a vast storehouse of books,
manuscripts, relics, curiosities, pictures, and
other memorials of by-gone days, called the
British Museum. Among the old records here
preserved are various letters written by Henri-
etta, and one or two by Charles, the young
prince, during his childhood. Here is one, for
instance, written by Henrietta to her child,
when the little prince was but eight years of
age, chiding him for not being willing to take
his medicine. He was at that time under the
{ Large of Lord Newcastle.

" Charles, — I am sorry that I must begin my first letter
w-ith chiding you, because I hear that you will not take phi»
icke , I hope it was onlie for this day, and that to-morrow yoa
will do it for if you will not, I must come to you, and make
ycu take it , for it is for your health. I have given order to
mi Lord of Newcastle to send mi word to-night whether yoa
will 01 not Therefore I hope you will not give me the painea
CD goe ; and bo I rest, your affectionate mother,

" Hbnriettk M asu."

The letter was addressed

To Mi deabe Sonne the Prince.

1630.J Infancy. 23

The difficulties of the king increase. He goeg tc Scofland

The queen must have taken special pains
with this her first letter to her son, for, with all
its faults of orthography, it is very much more
correct than most of the epistles which she at-
tempted to write in English. She was very
imperfectly acquainted with the English lan-
guage, using, as she almost always did, in her
domestic intercourse, her own native tongue.

Time passed on, and the difliculties and con-
tests between King Charles and his people and
Parliament became more and more exciting and
alarming. One after another of the king's most
devoted and faithful ministers was arrested,
tried, condemned, and beheaded, notwithstand-
ing all the efforts which their sovereign mas-
ter could make to save them. Parties were
formed, and party spirit ran very high. Tu-
mults were continually breaking out about the
palaces, which threatened the personal safety
of the king and queen. Henrietta herself was
a special object of the hatred which these out-
breaks expressed. The king himself was half
distracted by the overwhelming difficulties of
his position. Bad as it was in England, it was
still worse in Scotland. There was an actual
rebellion there, and the urgency of the danger
in that quarter was so great that Charles con-

24 Kino Charles IL tl630.

Tha queen goei to Oatlands. Her triah

eluded to go there, leaving the poor queen at
home to take care of herself and her little ones
as well as she could, with the few remaining
means of protection yet left at her disposal.

There was an ancient mansion, called Oat-
lands, not very far from London, where the
queen generally resided during the absence of
her husband. It was a lonely place, on low
and level ground, and surrounded by moats
filled with water, over which those who wished
to enter passed by draw-bridges. Henrietta
chose this place for her residence because she
thought she should be safer there from mobs
and violence. She kept the children all there
except the Prince of Wales, who was not al-
lowed to be whoUy under her care. He, how
ever, often visited his mother, and she some-
times visited him.

During the absence of her husband, Queen
Henrietta was subjected to many severe and
heavy trials. Her communications with him
were often interrupted and broken. She felt a
very warm interest in the prosperity and suc-
cess of his expedition, and sometimes the tidings
she received fiom him encouraged her to hope
that all might yet be well. Here, for instance,
is a not« which she addressed one day to an of-

1641.] Infancy. 29

Letter fix>m die queen. Threati of Parliament

fioer who had sent her a letter from the king,
that had come inclosed to him. It is written
in a broken English, which shows how imper-
fectly the foreign lady had learned the language
of her adopted country. They who understand
the French language will be interested in ob-
serving that most of the errors which the writer
falls into are those which result naturally from
the usages of her mother tongue.

Queen Henrietta to Sir Etheard Nieholat.
" Maistre Nicholas, — I have reseaved your letter, and
tbat yon send me from the king, which writes me word he
as been ver6 well reseaved in Scotland ; that both the anni
and the people have shewed a creat joy to see the king, and
each that theay say was never seen before. Pray God it may
continue. Your fi-and, Hxitkikttx MAmu B.'

At one time daring the king's absence in
Scotland the Parliament threatened to take the
queen's children all away from her, for fear, as
they said, that she would make papists of them.
This danger alarmed and distressed the queen
exceedingly. She declared that she did not in-
tend or desire to bring up her children in the
( 'atholio faith. She knew this was contrary to
the wish of the king her husband, as well as
of the people of England. In order to dimin-
ish the danger that the children would be taken

26 King Charles II. (1641

The qneen'a alamu. Her spirited defense of her chOdraiL

away, she left Oatlands herself, and went to r^
side at other palaces, only going occasionally to
visit her chDdren. Though she was thus ab-
sent from them in person, her heart was with
them aU the time, and she was watching with
great solicitude and anxiety for any indications
of a design on the part of her enemies to come
and take them away.

At last she received intelligence that an
armed force was ordered to assemble one night
in the vicinity of Oatlands to seize her children,
under the pretext that the queen was herself
forming pians for removing them out of the
country and taking them to France. Henriet-
ta was a lady of great spirit and energy, and
this threatened danger to her children aroused
all her powers. She sent immediately to all
the friends about her on whom she could rely,
and asked them to come, armed and equipped,
and with as many followers as they could mus-
ter, to the park at Oatlands that night. There
were also then in and near London a numbei
«f officers of the army, absent from their post^
SI. furlough. She sent similar orders to these
All obeyed the summons with eager alacrity
The queen mustered and armed her owti house-
hold, too, down to the lowest se»'vnnts of the

leU.] Infancy. 27

rhe queen's children. Their names and agM

kitchen. By these means quite a little army
was collected in the park at OatJands, the sep-
arate parties coming in, one after another, in
the evening and night. This guard patrolled
the grounds till morning, the queen herself an-
imating them by her presence and energy.
The children, whom the excited mother was
thus guarding, like a lioness defending her
young, were all the time within the mansion,
awaiting in infantile terror some dreadful ca-
lamity, they scarcely knew what, which all this
excitement seemed to portend.

The names and ages of the queen's children
at this time were as follows :

Charles, prince of Wales, the subject of this
story, eleven.

Mary, ten. Young as she was, she was al-
ready married, having been espoused a short
time before to William, prince of Orange, who
was one year older than herself.

James, duke of York, seven. He became
afterward King James 11.

Elizabeth, six.

Henry, an infant only a few months old.

The night passed away without any attack,
though a considerable force assembled in the vi.
einity , which was, however, soon after disband*

28 Kino Charles II. [1641

Preparadooa for escape. The Ung'i retora

ed. The queen's fears were, nevertheless, not
allayed. She began to make arrangements for
escaping from the kingdom in case it should
become necessary to do so. She sent a certain
faithful friend and servant to Portsmouth with
orders to get some vessels ready, so that she
could fly there with her children and embart
at a moment's notice, if these dangers and
alarms should continue.

She did not, however, have occasion to avail
herself of these preparations. Affairs seemed
to take a more favorable turn. The kmg came
back from Scotland. He was received by his
people, on his arrival, with apparent cordiality
and good will. The queen was, of course, re-
joiced to welcome him home, and she felt re-
lieved and protected by his presence. The city
of London, which had been the main seat of
disaffection and hostility to the royal family,
began to show symptoms of returning loyalty
and friendly regard. In reciprocation for this,
the king determined on making a grand entry
into the city, to pay a sort of visit to the au-
thorities. He rode, on this occasion, in a splen-
did chariot of state, with the little prince by his
side. Qneen Henrietta came next, in an open
carriage of her own, and the other children*

. 1641.] Infancy. 29

The king's entry into London. Protpects brighten.

with other carriages, followed in the train. A
long cortege of guards and attendants, richly
dressed and magnificently mounted, preceded
and followed the royal family, while the streets
were lined with thousands of spectators, who
waved handkerchiefs and banners, and shouted
God save the king ! In the midst of this scene
of excitement and triumph, Henrietta rode qui-
etly along, her anxieties relieved, her sorrows
and trials ended, and her heart bounding with
happiness and hope. She was once more, as
she conceived, reunited to her husband and her
children, and reconciled to the people of hei
realm. She thought her troubles were over
AJas ! they had, on the contrary, scarcely beipan

30

K

/NG

c

HARLES

11.

[1642

PaUaciooB hopes.

TiaaUM dilcken

Chapter II.

Prince Charles's Mdther.

rilHE indications and promises of returning
-*- peace and happiness which gave Prince
Charles's mother so much animation and hope
after the return of her husband from Scotland
were all very superficial and fallacious. The
real grounds of the quarrel between the king
and his Parliament, and of the feelings of alien-
ation and ill will cherished toward the queen,
were aU, unfortunately, as deep and extensive
as ever ; and the storm, which lulled treacher-
ously for a little time, broke forth soon after*
ward anew, with a frightful violence which it
was evident that nothing could withstand. Thia
new onset of disaster and calamity was produced
in such a way that Henrietta had to reijroach
herself with being the cause of its coming.

She had often represented to the king that,
in her opinion, one main cause of the difficul-
ties he had suffered was that he did not act ef-
ficiently and decidedly, and like a man, in put-
ting down the opposition manifested against

1642.J Prince Charles's Mother. 31

The queen's advice. The fire member*

him on the part of his subiects ; and now, soon
after his return from Scotland, on some new
spirit of disaffection showing itself in Parlia-
ment, she urged him to act at once energetical-
ly and promptly against it. She proposed to
him to take an armed force with him, and pro-
ceed boldly to the halls where the Parliament
was assembled, and arrest the leaders of the
party who were opposed to him. There were
five of them who were specially prominent.
The queen believed that if these five men were
seized and imprisoned in the Tower, the rest
would be intimidated and overawed, and the
monarch's lost authority and power would be
restored again.

The king was persuaded, partly by the dic-
tates of his own judgment, and partly by the
urgency of the queen, to make the attempt.
The circumstances of this case, so far as the
action of the king was concerned in them, are
fully related in the history of Charles the First.
Here we have only to speak of the queen, who
was left in a state of great suspense and anxi-
ety in her palace at Whitehall while her hus-
band was gone on his dangerous mission.

The plan of the king to make this irruption
Into the great legislative assembly of the na<

32 King Charles IL [1642

The qoeen'a nupenae. Lady Carlisle

tion had been kept, so they supposed, a very
profound secret, lest the members ■whom he was
going to arrest should receive warning of their
danger and fly. When the time arrived, the
king bade Henrietta farewell, saying that she
might wait there an hour, and if she received
no ill news from him during that time, she
might be sure that he had been successful, and
that he was once more master of his kingdom.
The queen remained in the apartment where
the king had left her, looking continually at the
watch which she held before her, and counting
the minutes impatiently as the hands moved
slowly on. She had with her one confidential
fi-iend, the Lady Carlisle, who sat with her and
seemed to share her solicitude, though she had
not been intrusted with the secret. The time
passed on. No ill tidings came ; and at length
the hour fully expired, and Henrietta, able to
contain herself no longer, exclaimed with exul-
tation, " Rejoice with me ; the hour is gone.
From this time my husband is master of his
realm. His enemies in Parliament are all ar
rested before this time, and his kingcbm is
henceforth his own."

It certainly is possible for kings and qneens
to have faithful friends, but there are so many

1642.] Prince Charles's Mother. 33

Hie king*! attempt fails. Storm, of IndignatioiL

motives and inducements to falsehood and
treachery in court, that it is not possible, gener-
ally, for them to distinguish false friends from
true. The Lady Carlisle was a confederate
with some of the very men whom Charles had
gone to arrest. On receiving this intimation
of their danger, she sent immediately to the
houses of Parliament, which were very near at
hand, and the obnoxious members received
warning in time to fly. The hour had indeed
elapsed, but the king had met with several un-
expected delays, both in his preparations for
going, and on his way to the House of Com-
mons, so that when at last he entered, the mem-
bers were gone. His attempt, however, un
successful as it was, evoked a general storm of
indignation and anger, producing thus all the
exasperation which was to have been expected
from the measure, without in any degree ac-
complishing its end. The poor queen was over-
whelmed with confusion and dismay when she
learned the result. She had urged her husband
forward to an extremely dangerous and desper-
ate measure, and then by her thoughtless indis-
cretion bad completely defeated the end. A
universal and utterly uncontrollable excitement
bur«t like a clap of thunder upon thf» ^v^Tintrv

34 King Charles 11. [ie4a

Tumultuous proceedinga. The queen's counsel

as this outrage, as they termed it, of the king
became known, and the queen was utterly ap-
palled at the extent and magnitude of the mi»
chief she had done.

The mischief was irremediable. The spirit
of resentment and indignation which the king's
action had aroused, expressed itself in such tu-
multuous and riotous proceedings as to render
the continuance of the royal family in London
no longer safe. They accordingly removed up
the river to Hampton Court, a famous palace
on the Thames, not many miles from the city
1 lere they remained but a very short time. The
dangers which beset them were evidently in-
creasing. It was manifest that the king must
either give up what he deemed the just rights
and prerogatives of the crown, or prepare to
maintain them by war. The queen urged him
to choose the latter alternative. To raise the
means for doing this, she proposed that she should
herself leave the country, taking with her her
jewels, and such other articles of great value
as could be easily carried away, and by means
of them and her personal exertions, raise funds
and forces to aid her husband in the approach-
ing struggle.

The king yielded to the necessity which

1642.] Prince Charles's Mother. 37

Henrietta sets out for Holland. Dover.

seemed to compel the adDption of this plan. He
accordingly set off to accompany Henrietta to
the shore. She took with her the young Prin-
cess Mary ; in fact, the ostensible object of her
journey was to convey her to her young hus-
band, the Prince of Orange, in Holland. In
such infantile marriages as theirs, it is not cus-
tomary, though the marriage ceremony be per-
formed, for the wedded pair to live together till
they arrive at years a little more mature.

The queen was to embark at Dover. Dover
was in those days the great port of egress from
England to the Continent. There was, and is
still, a great castle on the cliffs to guard the
harbor and the town. These cliffs are pictur-
esque and high, falling off abruptly in chalky
precipices to the sea. Among them at ono
place is a sort of dell, by which there is a grad-
ual descent to the water. King Charles stood
upon the shore when Henrietta sailed away,
watching the ship as it receded from his view,
with tears in his eyes. With all the faults,
oharacte 4stio of her nation, which Henrietta
possessed, she was now his best and truest
friend, and when she was gone he felt that he
was left desolate and alone in the midst of the
appalling dangers by which he was environed.

88 King Charles II. [1642

Preparations for war. The queen in Holland

The king went back to Hampton Court
Parliament sent him a request that he would
come and reside nearer to the capital, and en-
joined upon him particularly not to remove tho
young Prince of Wales. In the mean time
they began to gather together their forces, and
to provide munitions of war. The king did the
6ame. He sent the young prince to the west-
ern part of the kingdom, and retired himself to
the northward, to the city of York, which he
made his head-quarters. In a word, both par-
ties prepared for war.

In the mean time, Queen Henrietta was very
successful in her attempts to obtain aid for her
husband m Holland. Her misfortunes awaken-
ed pity, with which, through her beauty, and
the graces of her conversation and address, there
was mingled a feeling analogous to love. Then,
besides, there was something in her spirit of
earnest and courageous devotion to her husband
in the hours of his calamity that won for her a
strong degree of admiration and respect.

There are no eftbrts which are so efficient
and powerful in the accomplishment of their
end as those which a faithful wife makes to res-
cue and save her husband. The heart, general-
ly «80 timid, seems to be inspired on such ooca

1643J Prince Charles's Moth-sr. o9

Henrietta raises large soms of money. The UtUe brlda.

Bions with a preternatural courage, and the arm,
at other times so feeble and helpless, is nerved
with unexpected strength. Every one is ready
to second and help such efforts, and she who
makes them is surprised at her success, and
wonders at the extent and efficiency of the pow-
ers which she finds herself so unexpectedly able
to wield.

The queen interested all classes in Holland
in her plans, and by her personal credit, and the
security of her diamonds and rubies, she bor-
"owed large sums of money from the govern-
ment, from the banks, and from private mer-
shants. The sums which she thus raised
amounted to two millions of pounds sterling,
equal to nearly ten millions of dollars. While
these negotiations were going on she remained
in Holland, with her little daughter, the bride,
under her care, whose education she was carry-
ing forward aU the time with the help of suita-
ble masters ; for, though married, Mary was yet
a child. The little husband was going on at
the same time with his studies too.

Henrietta remained in Holland a year. She
expended a part of her money in purchasing
military stores and supplies for her husband,
and then set sail with them, and with the mon<

40 King Charles, II [1643

Henrietta sails for England. Terrific storm

ey not expended, to join fihe T^ing The voy.
age was a very extraordiirary one. A great
gale of wind began to blow from the northeast
soon after the ships left the port, which increas-
ed in violence for nine days, until at Icnght the
sea was lashed to such a state of fury that the
company lost all hope of ever reaching the lj,nd.
The queen had with her a large train of attend-
ants, both ladies and gentlemen ; and there
were also in her suit a number of Catholic
priests, who always accompanied her as the
chaplains and confessors of her household.
These persons had all been extremely sick, and
had been tied into their beds on account of the
excessive rolling of the ship, and their own ex-
haustion and helplessness. The danger increas-
ed, until at last it became so extremely immi-
nent that all the self-possession of the passen-
gers was entirely gone. In such protracted
storms, the surges of the sea strike the ship
with terrific force, and vast volumes of water
fall heavily upon the decks, threatening instant
destruction — the ship plunging awfully after
the shock, as if sinking to rise no more. At
such moments, the noble ladies who accompa-
nied the queen on this voyage would be over-
whehned with terror, and they fi^^d the cabins

1643.] Prince Charles's Mcther. 41

Composure of the queen. Terror of her companions

with their shrieks of dismay. All this time
the queen herself was quiet and composed. She
toll the ladies not to fear, for " queens of En-
gland were never drowned."

At one time, when the storm was at its height,
the whole party were entirely overwhelmed with
consternation and terror. Two of the ships
were engulfed and lost. The queen's company
thought Ihat their own was sinking. They
came crowding into the cabin where the priests
were lying, sick and helpless, and began all to-
gether to confess their sins to them, in the Cath-
olic mode, eager in these their last moments, as
they supposed, to relieve their consciences in any
way from the burdens of guilt which oppressed
them. The queen herself did not participate
in these fears. She ridiculed the absurd con-
fessions, and rebuked the senseless panic to
which the terrified penitents were yielding;
and whenever any mitigation of the violence of
the gale made it possible to do any thing to di-
vert the minds of her company, she tried to make
amusement out of the odd and strange dilem-
mas in which they were continually placed, and
the ludicrous disasters and accidents which were
always befalling her servants and officers of
state, in their attempts to continue the etiquette

42 King Charles 11. [1643

The ehlps return to port The queen sails agala

and ceremony proper in attendance upon a
queen, and from which even the violence of such
a storm, and the imminence of such danger,
could not excuse them. After a fortnight of
danger, terror, and distress, the ships that re-
mained of the little squadron succeeded in get-
ting back to the port from which they had sailed.
The queen, however, did not despair. After
a few days of rest and refreshment she set sail
again, though it was now in the dead of winter.
The result of this second attempt was a pros-
perous voyage, and the little fleet arrived in due
time at Burlington, on the English coast, where
the queen landed her money and her stores.
She had, however, after all, a very narrow es-
cape, for she was very closely pursued on her
voyage by an English squadron. They came
into port the night after she had landed, and
the next morning she was awakened by the
crashing of cannon balls and the bursting of
bomb-shells in the houses around her, and found,
on hastily rising, that the village was under a
bombardment from the ships of her enemies.
She hurried on some sort of dress, and sallied
forth with her attendants to escape into the
fields. This incident is related fully in the his-
tor} of her husband, Charles the First; but thert

1643.] Prince Charles's Mother. 43

rbe story of Mike. The queen's herokm

IS one circumstance, not there detailed, which
illustrates very strikingly that strange combi-
nation of mental greatness and energy worthy
of a queen, with a simplicity of affections and
tastes which we should scarcely expect in a
child, that marked Henrietta's character. She
had a small dog. Its name was Mike. They
say it was an ugly little animal, too, in all eyes
but her own. This dog accompanied her on the
voyage, and landed with her on the English
shore. On the morning, however, when she
fled from her bed to escape from the balls and
bomb-shells of the English ships, she recollect-
ed, after getting a short distance from the house,
that Mike was left behind. She immediately
returned, ran up to her chamber again, seized
Mike, who was sleeping unconsciously upon her
bed, and bore the little pet away from the sceno
of ruin which the balls and bursting shells were
making, all astonished, no doubt, at so hurried
and violent an abduction. The party gained
the open fields, and seeking shelter in a dry
trench, which ran along the margin of a field,
they crouched there together till the command-
er of the ships was tired of firing.

The queen's destination was York, the great
and ancient capital of the north of England

44 King Charles II. [164^.

Ttafl queen's march to York. Her martial bearing

York was the head-quarters of King Charles's
army, though he himself was not there at this
time. As soon as news of the queen's arrival
reached York, the general in command there
sent down to the coast a detachment of two
thousand men to escort the heroine, and the
stores and money which she had brought, to her
husband's capital. At the head of this force
she marched in triumph across the country,
with a long train of ordnance and baggage-wag-
ms loaded with supplies. There were six pieces
of cannon, and two hundred and fifty wagons
loaded with the money which she had obtained
in Holland. The whole country was excited
with enthusiasm at the spectacle. The enthu-
siasm was increased by the air and bearing of
the queen, who, proud and happy at this suo
cessful result of all her dangers and toils, rode
on horseback at the head of her army like a gon-
eral, spoke frankly to the soldiers, sought no
shelter from the sun and rain, and ate her meals,
like the rest of the army, in a bivouac in the
open field. She had been the means, in some
degree, of leading the king into his difficulties,
by the too vigorous measures she had urged
him to take in the case of the attempted par.
liamentary arrest She seems to hare been d&

1643.] Prince Charles's Mother. 4<1

Meeting of the king and queen- Their mutual affection.

termined to make that spirit of resolution and
energy in her, which caused the mischief then,
atone for it by its efficient usefulness now. She
stopped on her march to summon and take a
town, which had been hitherto in the hands of
her husband's enemies, adding thus the glory
of a conquest to the other triumphs of the day.

In fact, the queen's heart was filled with pride
and pleasure at this conclusion of her enterprise,
as is very manifest from the frequent letters
which she wrote to her husband at the time.
The king's cause revived. They gradually ap-
proached each other in the operations which they
severally conducted, until at last the king, after
a great and successful battle, set oif at the head
of a large escort to come and meet his wife.
They met in the vale of Keynton, near Edge-
hill, which is on the southern borders of War-
wickshire, near the center of the island. The
meeting was, of course, one of the greatest ex-
citement and pleasure. Charles praised the high
courage and faithful affection of his devoted wife,
and she was filled with happiness in enjoying
the love and gratitude of her husband.

The pressure of outward misfortune and ca-
lamity has always the same strong tendency as
was manifest in this case to invigorate anew

46 King Charles II. [1643.

Former dissensions. Dispute about the appointment of treasurer*

all the ties of conjugal and domestic affection,
and thus to create the happiness which it seems
to the world to destroy. In the early part of
Charles and Henrietta's married life, while ev-
ery thing external went smoothly and prosper-
ously with them, they were very far from be-
ing happy. They destroyed each other's peace
by petty disputes and jars about things of lit-
tle consequence, in which they each had scarce-
ly any interest except a desire to carry the point
and triumph over the other. King Charles him-
self preserved a record of one of these disputes
The queen had received, at the time of her mar-
riage, certain estates, consisting of houses and
lands, the income of which was to be at her dis-
posal, and she wished to appoint certain treas-
urers to take charge of this property. She had
made out a list of these officers in consultation
with her mother. She gave this list to Charlea
one night, after he was himself in bed. He said
he would look at it in the morning, but that she
must remember that, by the marriage treaty,
he was to appoint those officers. She said, in
reply, that a part of those whom she had named
were English. The king said that he would
look at the paper in the morning, and such of
the English names as he approved he would

1643.] Prince Charles's Mother. 47

The queen obstinate. The king not lees so.

confirm, but that he could not appoint any
Frenchmen. The queen answered that she and
her mother had selected the men whom she had
named, and she would not have any body else.
Oharles rejoined that the business was not ei-
iher in her power or her mother's, and if she
relied on such an influence to effect her wishes,
he would not appoint any body that she recom-
mended. The queen was very much hurt at
this, and began to be angry. She said that if
she could not put in whom she chose, to have
the care of her property, she would not have
any such property. He might take back her
houses and lands, and allow her what he pleased
in money in its stead. Charles replied by tell-
ing her to remember whom she was speaking
to ; that he could not be treated in that manner ;
and then the queen, giving way to lamentations
and tears, said she was wretched and miserable ;
every thing that she wanted was denied her,
and whatever she recommended was refused
on the very account of her recommendation
Charles tried to speak, but she would not hear ;
she went on with her lamentations and com-
plaints, interrupted only by her own sobs of
passion and grief.

The reader may perhaps imagine that this

48 King Charles II. [1643

Frolicking party in the queeu's apartments. The king's displeasure

must have been an extreme and unusual in-
stance of dissension between this royal pair ; but
it was not. Cases of far greater excitement
and violence sometimes occurred. The French
servants and attendants, whom the queen very
naturally preferred, and upon whom the king
was as naturally inclined to look with suspicion
and ill will, were a continual source of disagree-
ment between them. At last, one afternoon,
the king, happening to come into that part of the
palace at Whitehall where the queen's apart-
ments were situated, and which was called " the
queen's side," found there a number of her gen-
tlemen and lady attendants in a great frolic,
capering a»d dancing in a way which the gay
Frenchmen probably considered nothing extra-
ordinary, but which King Charles regarded as
very irreverent and unsuitable conduct to be
witnessed in the presence of an English queen.
He was very much iispleased. He advanced
to Henrietta, took her by the arm, conducted
her sternly to his own side of the palace, brought
her into one of his own apartments, and locked
the door. He then sent an officer to direct all
the French servants and attendants in the
queen's apartmdts to leave the palace imme-
diately, and repair to Somerset House, which

1643.] Pbince Charles's Mother. 49

The queen's attendants expelled. Her exasperatioiL

was not far distant, and remain there till they
received further orders. The officer executed
these commands in a very rough manner. The
French women shrieked and cried, and filled
the court-yard of the palace with their clamor ;
but the officer paid no regard to this noise. He
turned them all out of the apartments, and locked
the doors after them.

The queen was rendered quite frantic with
vexation and rage at these proceedings. She
flew to the windows to see and to bid farewell
to her friends, and to offer them expressions of
her sympathy. The king pulled her away, tell-
ing her to be quiet and submit, for he was de-
termined that they should go. The queen was
determined that she would not submit. She
attempted to open the windows ; the king held
them down. Excited now to a perfect phrensy
in the struggle, she began to break out the panes
with her fist, while Charles exerted all his force
to restrain and confine her, by grasping her
wrists and endeavoring to force her away.
What a contrast between the Ir w and sordid
selfishness and jealousy evinced in such dis-
sensions as these, and the lofty and heroic de-
TOtedness and fidelity which this wife afterward
ovinced for her husband in the harassing cares,
D

50 King Charles 11. [164b

The contTast The queen's spirit and charactei

the stormy voyages, and the martial exposures
and fatigues which she endured for his sake !
And yet, notwithstanding this great apparent
contrast, and the wide difference in the estima-
tion which mankind form of the conduct of the
actor in these different scenes, still we can see
that it is, after all, the impulse of the same lofty
md indomitable spirit which acted in both. The
soul itself of the queen was not altered, nor even
the character of her action. The change wa&
in the object and aim. In the one case she was
contending against the authority of a husband,
to gain petty and aseless victories in domestic
strife ; in the other, the same spirit and energy
were expended in encountering the storms and
tempests of outward adversity to sustain her
husband and protect her children. Thus the
change was a change of circumstances rather
than of character.

The change was, however, none the less im-
portant on that account in its influence on the
king. It restored to him the affection and sym-
pathy of his wife, and filled his heart with in-
ward happiness. It was a joyous change to
him, though it was produced by sufferings and
sorrows ; for it was the very pressure of out-
ward calamity that made his wife his friend

1643.] Prince Charles's Mother. 51

The king marches to Oxford. He calls a Parliameat

again, and restored his domestic peace. In how
many thousand instances is the same effect pro-
duced in a still more striking manner, though
on a less conspicuous stage, than in the case of
this royal pair ! And how many thousands of
outwardly prosperous families there are, from
which domestic peace and happiness are gone,
and nothing but the pressure from without of
affliction or calamity can ever restore them !

In consequence, in a great measure, of Hen
rietta's efficient help, the king's affairs greatly
improved, and, for a time, it seemed as if he
would gain an ultimate and final victory over
nis enemies, and recover his lost dominion. He
advanced to Oxford, and made his head-quar-
ters there, and commenced the preparations for
once more getting possession of the palaces and
fortresses of London. He called together a Par-
liament at Oxford ; some members came, and
were regularly organized in the two houses of
Lords and Commons, while the rest remained
at London and continued their sittings there
Thus there were two governments, two Parlia-
ments, and two capitals in England, and the
whole realm was rent and distracted by the re-
spective claims of these contsnding powers over
the allegiance of thft subjects and the govern^
ment of the realm.

52 King Charles II. [1644

The cloudB thicken Defeat of the king's am>i<j*

Chapter III.

Queen Henrietta's Flight.

rflHE brightening of the prospects in King
-*- Charles's affairs which was produced, for a
time, by the queen's vigorous and energetic ac-
tion, proved to be only a temporary gleam after
all. The clouds and darkness soon returned
again, and brooded over his horizon more gloom-
ily than ever. The Parliament raised and or-
ganized new and more powerful armies. The
great Republican general, Oliver Cromwell, who
afterward became so celebrated as the Protect*
or in the time of the Commonwealth, came into
the field, and was very successful in all his mil-
itary plans. Other Republican generals appear-
ed in all parts of the kingdom, and fought with
great determination and great success, driving
the armies of the king before them wherever
they moved, and reducing town after town, and
castle after castle, until it began to appear evi-
dent that the whole kingdom would soon fall
into their hands.

In the mean time, the family of the queen

1644.J Queen Henrietta's Flight. 53

The king's children. Prince CharleA

were very much separated from each other, the
ohildren having been left m various places, ex-
posed each to different privations and dangers.
Two or three of them were in London in the
tiands of their father's enemies. Mary, the
young bride of the Prince of Orange, was in
Holland. Prince Charles, the oldest son, who
was now about fourteen years of age, was at
the head of one of his father's armies in the
west of England. Of course, such a boy could
not be expected to accomplish any thing as a
general, or even to exercise any real military
command. He, however, had his place at the
head of a considerable force, and though there
were generals with him to conduct all the op-
erations, and to direct the soldiery, they were
nominally the lieutenants of the prince, and act-
ed, in all cases, in their young commander's
name. Their great duty was, however, after
all, to take care of their charge ; and the army
which accompanied Charles was thus rather an
escort and a guard, to secure his safety, than a
force from which any aid was to be expected in
the recovery of the kingdom.

The queen did every thing in her power to
sustain the sinking fortunes of her husband, but
in vain. At length, in June, 1644, she found

54 King Charles II. [1644

Advance of the king's enemies. The queen retires to Exeter

herself unable to continue any longer such war-
like and masculine exposures and toils. It be-
came necessary for ner to seek some place of
retreat, where she could enjoy, for a time at
least, the quiet and repose now essential to the
preservation of her life. Oxford was no longer
a place of safety. The Parliament had ordered
her impeachment on account of her having
brought in arms and munitions of war from for-
eign lands, to disturb, as they said, the peace
of the kingdom. The Parliamentary armies
were advancing toward Oxford, and she was
threatened with being shut up and besieged
there. She accordingly left Oxford, and went
down to the sea-coast to Exeter, a strongly-for-
tified place, on a hiU surrounded in part by oth-
er hills, and very near the sea. There was a
palace within the walls, where the queen thought
she could enjoy, for a time at least, the needed
seclusion and repose. The king accompanied
her for a few miles on her journey, to a place
called Abingdon, which is in the neighborhood
of Oxford, and there the unhappy pair bade each
other farewell, with much grief and many tears.
They never met again.

Henrietta continued her sorrowful journey
alone. She reached the sea-coast in the south-

1644.] Queen Henrietta's Flight. 57

The qtieen's deBtltution. Birth of a daughter.

western part of England, where Exeter is sit*
aated, and shut herself up in the place of hei
retreat. She was in a state of great destitu-
tion, for Charles's circumstances were now so
reduced that he could afford her very little aid.
She sent across the Channel to her friends in
France, asking them to help her. They sent
immediately the supplies that she needed — ar-
ticles of clothing, a considerable sum of money,
and a nurse. She retained the clothing and
the nurse, and a little of the money ; the rest
she sent to Charles. She was, however, now
herself tolerably provided for in her new home,
and here, a few weeks afterward, her sixth child
was born. It was a daughter.

The queen's long-continued exertions and ex-
posures had seriously impaired her health, and
she lay, feeble and low, in her sick chamber for
about ten days, when she learned to her dis-
may that one of the Parliamentary generals was
advancing at the head of his army to attack the
town which she had made her refuge. This
general's name was Essex. The queen sent a
messenger out to meet Essex, asking him to
allow her to withdraw from the town before he
should invest it with his armies. She said that
she was very weak and feeble, and unable to

58 King Charles II. [1644

The queen's danger. Her escapei

endure the privations and alarms which the in-
habitants of a besieged town have necessarily
tc bear ; and she asked his permission, there-
fore, to retire to Bristol, till her health should
be restored. Essex replied that he could not
give her permission to retire from Exeter ; that,
in fact, the object of his coming there was to
escort her to London, to bring her before Par-
liament, to answer to the charge of treason.

The queen perceived immediately that noth-
ing but the most prompt and resolute action
could enable her to escape the impending dan-
ger. She had but little bodily strength remain-
ing, but that little was stimulated and renewed
by the mental resolution and energy which, as
is usual in temperaments like hers, burned all
the brighter in proportion to the urgency of the
danger which called it into action. She rose
from her sick bed, and began to concert meas-
ures for making her escape. She confided her
plan to three trusty friends, one gentleman, one
ladj, and her confessor, who, as her spiritual
teacher and guide, was her constant companion.
She disguised herself and these her attendants,
and succeeded in getting through the gates
of Exeter without attracting any observation.
This was before Essex arrived She found,

1644.] Queen Henrietta's Flight. 69

The queen conceals herself in a hut. Her lufferings.

however, before she went far, that the van of
the army was approaching, and she had to seek
refiige in a hut till her enemies had passed. She
concealed herself among some straw, her attend*
ants seeking such other hiding-places as were
at hand. It was two days before the bodies of
soldiery had all passed so as to make it safe for
the queen to come out of her retreat. The hut
would seem to have been uninhabited, as the
accounts state that she remained all this time
without food, though this seems to be an almost
incredible degree of privation and exposure for
an English queen. At any rate, she remained
during all this time in a state of great mental
anxiety and alarm, for there were parties of sol-
diery constantly going by, with a tumult and
noise which kept her in continual terror. Their
harsh and dissonant voices, heard sometimes in
angry quarrels and sometimes in mirih, were
always frightful. In fact, for a helpless worn
an in a situation like that of the queen, the
mood of reckless and brutal mirth in such sav-
ages was perhaps more to be dreaded than that
of their anger.

At one time the queen overheard a party of
these soldiers talking about her. They knew
that to get possession of the papist queen was

60 Kino Charles II. [1644

Hie queen leaves her concealment. Uer exhausted condition

the object of their expedition. They spoke of
getting her head and carrying it tc London, say
ing that Parliament had offered a reward of fifty
thousand crowns for it, and expressed the sav.
age pleasure which it would give them to se
cure this prize, by imprecations and oaths.

They did not, however, discover their intend-
ed victim. After the whole army passed, the
queen ventured cautiously forth from her re-
treat ; the little party got together again, and,
still retaining their disguises, moved on over
the road by which the soldiers had come, and
which was in the shocking condition that a road
and a country always exhibit where an army
has been marching. Faint and exhausted with
sickness, abstinence, and the effects of long-con-
tinued anxiety and fear, the queen had scarce-
ly strength to go on. She persevered, however,
and at length found a second refuge in a cabin
in a wood. She was going to Plymouth, which
is forty or fifty miles from Exeter, to the south-
west, and is the great port and naval station
;f the English, in that quarter of the island.

She stopped at this cabin for a little time to
rest, and to wait for some other friends and mem-
bers of her household from the palace in Exeter
to join her. These friends were to wait nnti]

1644.] Queen Henrietta's FlictHT. 61

The dwarf Geoffrey Hudson. Change of tasta

they found that the queen succeeded in making
her escape, and then they were to follow, each in
a different way, and all assuming such disguises
as would most effectually help to conceal them.
There was one of the party whom it must have
been somewhat difficult to disguise. It was a
dwarf, named Geoffrey Hudson, who had been
a long time in the service of Henrietta as a per-
sonal attendant and messenger. It was the
fancy of queens and princesses in those days to
have such personages in their train. The oddi-
ty of the idea pleased them, and the smaller the
dimensions of such a servitor, the greater was
his value. In modern times all this is changed.
Tall footmen now, in the families of the great,
receive salaries in proportion to the number of
inches in their stature, and the dwarfs go to tha
museums, to be exhibited, for a price, to the com-
mon wonder of mankind.

The manner in which Sir Geoffrey Hudson
was introduced into the service of the queen
was as odd as his figure. It was just after she
was married, and when she was about eight.
een years old. She had two dwarfs then al-
ready, a gentleman and a lady, or, as they term-
ed it then, a cavalier and a dame, and, to carry
out the whimsical idea, she had arranged a

63 King Charles if. [1644

BueUngfaam. Hia manner of introducing the dwarf to tha qneen

match between these two, and had them mar-
ried. Now there was in her court at that timo
a wild and thoughtless nobleman, a great friend
and constant companion of her husband Charles
the First, named Buckingham. An account
of his various exploits is given in our history of
Charles the First. Buckingham happened to
hear of this Geoffrey Hudson, who was then a
boy of seven or eight years of age, living with
his parents somewhere in the interior of En-
gland. He sent for him, and had him brought
secretly to his house, and made an arrangement
to have him enter the service of the queen, with-
out, however, saying any thing of his design to
her. He then invited the queen and her hus-
band to visit him at his palace ; and when the
time for luncheon arrived, one day, he conduct-
ed the party into the dining saloon to partake
of some refreshment. There was upon the ta-
ble, among other viands, what appeared to be a
large venison pie. The company gathered
around the table, and a servant proceeded to
out the pie, and on his breaking and raising a
piece of the crust, out stepped the young dwarf
npon the table, splendidly dressed and armed,
and, advancing toward the queen, he kneeled
}» fore her, and begged to be received into her

1644.] Queen Henrietta's Flight. 69

Hudson's sudden and remarkable growth. His charaetor

train. Her majesty was very much pleased
with the addition itself thus made to her house-
hold, as well as diverted by the odd manner ir
which her new attendant was introduced into
her service.

The youthful dwarf was then only eighteen
injhes high, and he continued so until he was
thirty years of age, when, to every body's sur-
prise, he began to grow. He grew quite rap-
idly, and, for a time, there was a prospect that
he would be entirely spoiled, as his whole val-
ue had consisted thus far in his littleness. He
attained the height of three feet and a half, and
there the mysterious principle of organic ex-
pansion, the most mysterious and inexplicable,
perhaps, that is exhibited in all the phenomena
of life, seemed to be finally exhausted, and,
though he lived to be nearly seventy years of
age, he grew no more.

Notwithstanding the bodily infirmity, what-
ever it may have been, which prevented his
growth, the dwarf possessed a considerable de-
gree of mental capacity and courage. He did
not bear, however, very good-naturedly, the jests
and gibes of which he was the continual object,
from the unfeeling courtiers, who often took
pleasure in teasing him and in getting him into

64 KiiHG Charles II. [1644

Hndion't dael wUb Crofts. The dwarf killa bis antagonist

all sorts of absurd and ridiculous situations.
At last his patience was entirely exhausted, and
he challenged one of his tormentors, whose name
was Crofts, to a duel. Crofts accepted the chal-
lenge, and, being determined to persevere in his
fun to the end, appeared on tb.s battle-ground
armed only with a squirt. This raised a laugh,
of course, but it did not tend much to cool the
injured Lilliputian's anger. He sternly insist-
ed on another meeting, and with real weapons.
Crofts had expected to have turned off the whole
affair in a joke, but he found this could not be
done ; and public opinion among the courtiers
around him compelled him finally to accept the
challenge in earnest. The parties met on horse-
back, to put them more nearly on an equality.
They fought with pistols. Crofts was killed
upon the spot.

After this Hudson was treated with more re-
spect. He was intrusted by the queen with
many commissions, and sometimes business
was committed to him which required no little
capacity, judgment, and courage. He was now.
at the time of the queen's escape from Exeter,
of his full stature, but as this was only three
and a half feet, he encountered great danger in
attempting to find his way out of the city and

1G44.] Queen Henrietta's Flight. 65

Hudson effects his escape Journey to Plymouth.

through the advancing columns of the army to
rejoin the queen. He persevered, however, and
reached her safely at last in the cabin in the
wood. The babe, not yet two weeks old, was
necessarily left behind. She was left in charge
of Lady Morton, whom the queen appointed her
governess. Lady Morton was young and beau-
tiful. She was possessed of great strength and
energy of character, and she devoted herself
with her whole soul to preserving the life and
securing the safety of her little charge.

The queen and her party had to traverse a
wild and desolate forest, many miles in extent,
on the way to Plymouth. The name of it was
Dartmoor Forest. Lonely a? it was, however,
the party was safer in it than in the open and
inhabited country, which was all disturbed and
in commotion, as every country necessarily is
in time of civil war. As the queen drew near
to Plymouth, she found that, for some reason,
it would not be safe to enter that town, and so
the whole party went on, continuing their jour
ney farther to the westward still.

Now there is one important sea-port to the
westward of Plymouth which is called Fal-
mouth, and near it, on a high promDutory jut-
ting into the sea, is a large and string castle.
E

66 King Charles II. 1644.

Henrietta arrives at Pendennis Caatle. She determines to ^o to France

called Pendennis Castle. This castle was, at
the time of the queen's escape, in the hands of
the king's friends, and she determined, accord-
ingly, to seek refuge there. The whole party
arrived here safely on the 29th of June. They
were all completely worn out and exhausted by
the fatigues, privations, and exposures of their
terrible journey.

The queen had determined to make her es-
cape as soon as possible to France, Slie could
no longer be of any service to the king in En-
gland ; her resources were exhausted, and her
personal health was so feeble that she must have
been a burden to his cause, and not a help, if
she had remained. There was a ship from Hol-
land in the harbor. The Prince of Orange, it
will be recollected, who had married the queen's
oldest daughter, was a prince of Holland, anc
this vessel was under his direction. Some writ-
ers say it was sent to Falmouth by him to be
ready for his mother-in-law, in case she should
wish to make her escape from England. Oth-
ers speak of it as being there accidentally at
this time. However this may be, it was im-
mediately placed at Queen Henrietta's disposal,
and she determined to embark in it on the fol-
lowing morning. She knew very well that, as

1644.] Queen Henrietta's Flight. 67

rhe queen embarks for France. She is pursued

soon as Essex should have heard of her escape,
parties would be scouring the country in all di-
rections in pursuit of her, and that, although
the castle where she had found a temporary
refuge was strong, it was not best to incur the
risk of being shut up and besieged in it.

She accordingly embarked, with all her com-
pany, on board the Dutch ship on the very morn-
ing after her arrival, and immediately put to
sea. They made all sail for the coast of France,
intending to land at Dieppe. Dieppe is almost
precisely east of Falmouth, two or three hun-
dred miles from it, up the English Channel.
As it is on the other side of the Channel, it
would lie to the south of Falmouth, were it not
that both the French and English coasts trend
here to the northward.

Some time before they arrived at their port,
they perceived some ships in the offing that
seemed to be pursuing them. They endeavor-
ed to escape, but their pursuers gained rapidly
jpon them, and at length fired a gun as a sig-
nal for the queen's vessel to stop. The bail
came bounding over the water toward them, but
did no harm. Of course there was a scene of
universal commotion and panic on board the
queen's ship. Some wanted to fire back upon

68 King Charles II. [1644

Henrietta's courage and self-posseBsion. Her instmctioiu

the pursuers, some wished to stop and surrender,
and others shrieked and cried, and were over-
vs.'helmed with uncontrollable emotions of tenor.
In the midst of this dreadful scene of confu-
sion, the queen, as was usual with her in such
emergencies, retained all her self-possession, and
though weak and helpless before, felt a fresh
strength and energy now, which the imminence
itself of the danger seemed to inspire. She was
excited, it is true, as well as the rest, but it
was, in her case, the excitement of courage and
resolution, and not of senseless terror and de-
spair. She ascended to the deck ; she took the
direct command of the ship ; she gave instruc-
tions to the pilot how to steer ; and, though
there was a storm coming on, she ordered every
sail to be set, that the ship might be driven as
rapidly as possible through the water. She for-
bade the captain to fire back upon their pursu-
ers, fearing that such firing would occasion de-
lay ; and she gave distinct and positive ordera
to the captain, that so soon as it should appear
that all hope of sscape was gone, and that they
must inevitably fall into the hands of their en-
amies, he was to set fire to the magazine of
gunpowder, in order that they might all be de-
stroyed by the explosion.

tfi44.j Queen Henrietta's Flight. (59

Hopes and fears. The queen's perilous eituadon

In the mean time all the ships, pursuers and
pursued, were rapidly nearing the French coast.
The fugitives were hoping to reach their port.
They were also hoping every moment to see
some friendly French siiips appear in sight to
rescue them. To balance this double hope,
there was a double fear. There were their pur-
suers behind them, whose shots were continu-
ally booming over the water, threatening them
with destruction, and there was a storm aris-
ing which, with the great press of sail that they
were carrying, brought with it a danger, per-
haps, more imminent still.

It happened that these hopes and fears were
all realized, and nearly at the same time. A
shot struck the ship, producing a great shock,
and throwing all on board into terrible conster-
nation. It damaged the rigging, bringing down
the rent sails and broken cordage to the declc,
and thus stopped the vessel's way. At the
same moment some French vessels came in
sight, and, as soon as they understood the case,
bore down full sail to rescue the disabled ves
eel. The pursuers, changing suddenly their
pursuit to flight, altered their course and moved
slowly away. The storm, however, increased,
ind, preventing them from making the harboi

70 King Charles II. [1644

The queen lands in France. Her exhaueted condition

of Dieppe, drove them along the shore, threat-
ening every moment to dash them upon tb'
rocks and breakers. At length the queen's ves-
io] succeeded in getting into a rocky cove,
where they were sheltered from the winds and
waves, and found a chance to land. The que m
ordered out the boat, and was set ashore with
her attendants on the rocks. She climbed over
them, wet as they were with the dashing spray,
and slippery with sea-weed. The little party,
drenched with the rain, and exhausted and for-
lorn, wandered along the shore till they came
to a little village of fishermen's huts. The
queen went into the first wretched cabin which
offered itself, and lay down upon the straw in
the corner for rest and sleep.

The tidings immediately spread all over the
region that the Queen of England had landed
on the coast, and produced, of course, universal
excitement. The gentry in the neighborhood
flocked down the next morning, in their car-
riages, to offer Henrietta their aid. They sup-
plied her wants, invited her to their houses, and
offered her their equipages to take her wher-
ever she should decide to go. "What she want-
ed was seclusion and rest. They accordingly
conveyed her, at her request, to the Baths of

1644.] QuFEN Henrietta's Flight. 71

The queen iirrivos at Paris. Her deep sorrow

Bourbon, where she remained some time, until,
in fact, her health and strength were in soma
measure restored. Great personages of state
were sent to her here from Paris, with money
and all other necessary supplies, and in due
time she was escorted in state to the city, and
established in great magnificence and splendor
in the Louvre, which was then one of the prin-
cipal palaces of the capital.

Notwithstanding the outward change which
was thus made in the circumstances of the ex-
iled queen, she was very unhappy. As the ex-
citement of ner danger and her efforts to escape
it passed away, her spirits sunk, her beauty
faded, and her countenance assumed the wan
and haggard expression of despair. She mourn-
ed over the ruin of her husband's hopes, and her
separation from him and from her children, with
perpetual tears. She called to mind continual-
ly the image of the little babe, not yet three
weeks old, whom she had left so defenseless in
the very midst of her enemies. She longed to
got some tidings of the child, and reproached
herself sometimes for having thus, as it were,
abandoned her.

The localities which were the scenes of these
events have been made very fkmous by thenV)

72 King Charles II. [1644

Interetting localities. The queen's portrait

and traditionary tales of Queen Henrietta's res-
idence in Exeter, and of her romantic escape
from it, have been handed down there, from
generation to generation, to the present day.
They caused her portrait to be painted too, and
hung it up in the city hall of Exeter as a me-
morial of their royal visitor. The palace where
the little infant was born has long since passed
away, but the portrait hangs in the Guildhall
still

1644.] Escape of the Children. T3

Henrietta'* unhappy situation. The children

Chapter IV.

Escape of the Children.

"Y^^E left the mother of Prince Charles, at
the close of the last chapter, in the pal-
ace of the Louvre in Paris. Though all her
wants were now supplied, and though she lived
in royal state in a magnificent palace on the
banks of the Seine, still she was disconsolate
and unhappy. She had, indeed, succeeded in
effecting her own escape from the terrible dan-
gers which had threatened her family in En-
gland, but she had left her husband and chil-
dren behind, and she could not really enjoy her-
self the shelter which she had found from the
storm, as long as those whom she so ardently
loved were still out, exposed to all its fury. She
had SLX children. Prince Charles, the oldest,
was in the western part of England, in camp,
acting nominally as the commander of an army,
and fighting for his father's throne. He wa?
now fourteen years of age. Next to him was
Mary, the wife of the Prince of Orange, who
was safe in Holland. She was one year young

76 Kino Charles IL [1644.

James a prisoner. Elizabeth and Henry

er than Charles. James, the third child, whose
title was now Duke of York, was about ten.
He had been left in Oxford when that city was
surrendered, and had been taken captive there
by the Republican army. The general in com-
mand sent him to London a prisoner. It was
hard for such a child to be a captive, but then
there was one solace in his lot. By being sent
to London he rejoined his little sister Elizabeth
and his brother Henry, who had remained there
all the time. Henry was three years old and
Elizabeth was six. These children, being too
young, as was supposed, to attempt an escape,
were not very closely confined. They were in-
trusted to the charge of some of the nobility,
and lived in one of the London palaces. James
was a very thoughtful and considerate boy, and
had been enough with his father in his cam-
paigns to understand something of the terrible
dangers with which the family were surround-
ed. The other children were too young to
know or care about them, and played blind-
man's buff and hide and go seek in the great
saloons of the palace with as much infantile
glee as if their father and mother were as safe
and happy as ever.

Though they felt thus no uneasiness and

IG45.J Escape of the Children. 77

"Hie infant Henrietta's vow

tnxiety for themselves, their exiled mother
mourned for them, and was oppressed by the
most foreboding fears for their personal safety.
She thought, however, still more frequently of
the babe, and felt a still greater solicitude for
her, left as she had been, at so exceedingly ten-
der an age, in a situation of the most extreme
and imminent danger. She felt somewhat
guilty in having yielded her reluctant consent,
for political reasons, to have her other children
educated in what she believed a false system
of religious faith, and she now prayed earnestly
to God to spare the life of this her last and dear-
est child, and vowed in her anguish that, if the
babe were ever restored to her, she would break
through all restrictions, and bring her up a true
believer. This wrw she afterward earnestly
fulfilled.

The child, it will be recollected, was left,
when Henrietta escaped from Exeter, in tho
care of the Countess of Morton, a young and
beautiful, and also a very intelligent and ener-
getic lady. The child had a visit from its fa«
ther soon after its mother left it. King Charles,
as soon as he heard that Essex was advancing
to besiege Exeter, where he knew that the queen
had sought refuge, and was, of course, exposed

78 King Charlks II. (1616

The king and hig '^ttle daui^bttr. Lady Morton

to fall into his pow(;r, hastened with an army
to her rescue. He arrived in time to prevent
Eiifrex from getting possession of the place. He,
in fact, drove the besieger away from the town,
and entered it himself in triumph. The ]ucen
was gone, but he found the child.

The king gazed upon the little stranger with
a mixture of joy and sorrow. He caused it to
be ba])tized, and named it Henrietta Anne. The
name Henrietta was from the mother ; Anno
was the name of Henrietta's sister-in-law in
Paris, who had been very kind to her in all her
troubles. The king made ample arrangements
for supplying Lady Morton with money out of
the revenues of the town of Exeter, and, think-
inir that the child would be as safe in Exeter
as any where, left her there, and went away to
resume again his desperate conflicts with hia
political foes.

• Lady Morton remained for some time at Kx-
eter, but the king's cause every where declined.
His armies were conquered, his towns were
taken, and he was compelled at last to give
himself up a prisoner. Exeter, as well as all
the other strongholds in the kingdom, fell into
the hands uf the parliamentary armies. They
sent Lady INIorton and the little Henrietta to

1646.] Escape of the Children. "^'J

Lady Morton's plan of escape. The dls^Uei

London, and soon afterward provided them with
a home in the mansion at Oatlands, where the
queen herself and her other children had lived
before. It was a quiet and safe retreat, but
Lady Morton was very little satisfied with the
plan of remaining there. She wished very much
to get the babe back to its mother again in Paris.
She heard, at length, of rumors that a plan was
forming by the Parliament to take the child out
of her charge, and she then resolved to attempt
an escape at all hazards,

Henrietta Anne was now two years old, and
was beginning to talk a little. When asked
what was her name, they had taught her to at-
tempt to reply princess, though she did not suc-
ceed in uttering more than the first letters of
the word, her answer being, in fact, prah. Lady
Morton conceived the idea of making her escape
across the country in the disguise of a beggar
woman, changing, at the same time, the prin-
cess into a boy. She was herself very tall, and
graceful, and beautiful, and it was hard for her
to make herself look old and ugly. She, hoW'
ever, made a hump for her back out of a bun-
die of linen, and stooped in her gait to counter-
feit age. She dressed herself in soiled and rag-
ged clothes, disfigured her face by reversing tha

80 King Charles 11. [1646

DUguise of the little princess. Her prattling

C5ontrivances with which ladies in very fashion-
able life are said sometimes to produce artificial
youth and beauty, and with the child in a bundle
ra her back, and a staff in her hand, she watched
a favorable opportunity to escape stealthily from
the palace, in the forlorn hope of walking in that
way undetected to Dover, a march of fifty miles,
through a country filled v/ith enemies.

Little Henrietta was to be a boy, and as people
on the way might ask the child its name. Lady
Morton was obliged to select one for her which
would fit, in some degree, her usual reply to
such a question. She chose the name Pierre,
which sounds, at least, as much like prah as
princess does. The poor child, though not old
enough to speak distinctly, was still old enough
to talk a great deal. She was very indignant
at the vile dress which she was compelled to
wear, and at being called a beggar boy. She
persisted in telling every body whom she met
that she was not a boy, nor a beggar, nor Pierre,
but the princess^ saying it all, however, very
fortunately, in such an unintelligible way, that
it only alarmed Lady Morton, without, howev-
er, attracting the attention of those who heard
it, or giving them any information.

Contrary to every reasonable expectation,

1646.] Escape of the Children. 83

The plan succeeds. The queen's joy. Prince Charles

Lady Morton succeeded in her wild and ro! nan-
tic attempt. She reached Dover in safety. She
made arrangements for crossing in the packet
boat, which then, as now, plied from Dover to
Calais. She landed at length safely on the
French coast, where she threw off her disguise,
resumed her natural grace and beauty, made
known her true name and character, and trav-
eled in ease and safety to Paris. The excite-
ment and the intoxicating joy which Henrietta
experienced when she got her darling child once
more in her arms, can be imagined, perhaps, even
by the most sedate American mother ; but ^le
wild and frantic violence of her expressions of
it, none but tiiose who are conversant with the
French character and French manners can
know.

It was not very far from the time of little
Henrietta's escape from her father's enemies in
London, though, in fact, before it, that Prince
Charles made his escape from the island too.
His father, finding that his cause was becoming
desperate, gave orders to those who had charge
of his son to retreat to the southwestern coast
of the island, and if the Republican armies
should press hard upon him there, h!5 was to
make his escape, if necessary, by sea

84 King Charles II. [1G46

Th« prince retreats to Cornwall. Sails for Scilly. Arrives in Jersey

The southwestern part of England is a long,
mountainous promontory, constituting the coun«
ty of Cornwall. It is a wild and secluded re-
gion, and the range which forms it seems to
extend for twenty or thirty miles under the sea,
where it rises again to the surface, forming a
little group of islands, more wild and rugged
even than the land. These are the Scilly Isles
They lie secluded and solitary, and are known
chiefly to mankind through the ships that seek
shelter among them in storms. Prince Charles
retreated from post to post through Cornwall,
the danger becoming more and more imminent
every day, till at last it became necessary to fly
from the country altogether. He embarked on
board a vessel, and went first to the Scilly Isles

From Scilly he sailed eastward toward the
coast of France. He landed first at the island
of Jersey, which, though it is very rear the
French coast, and is inhabited by a French
population, is under the English government
Here the prince met with a very cordi»,l reoop.
tion, as the authorities were strongly attached
to his father's cause. Jersey is a beautiful isl.
and, far enough south to enjoy a genial climate,
where flowers bloom and fruits ripen in ihe
warm sunbeams, which are here no longer ia-

164G.] Escape of the Children. 85

Prince Charles arrives at Paris. His reception. James.

tercepted by the driving mists and rains which
sweep ahnost perceptibly along the hill-sides
and fields of England.

Prince Charles did not, however, remain long
in Jersey. His destination was Paris. He
passed, therefore, across to the main land, and
traveled to the capital. He was received with
great honors at his mother's new home, in the
palace of the Louvre, as a royal prince, and heir
apparent to the British crown. He was now
sixteen. The adventures which he met with
on his arrival will be the subject of the next
chapter.

James, the Duke of York, remained still in
London. He continued there for two years,
during which time his father's affairs went to-
tally to ruin. The unfortunate king, after his
armies were all defeated, and his cause was
finally given up by his friends, and he had sur-
rendered himself a prisoner to his enemies, was
taken from castle to castle, every where strong-
ly guarded and very closely confined. At length,
worn down with privations and sufferings, and
despairing of all hope of relief, he was taken to
London to be tried for his life. James, in the
mean time, with his brother, the little Duke of
Gloucester, and his sister Elizabeth, were kept

86 King Charles 11.'^ [1640

Jamei a close prisoner. Precantiona to secure him

in St. James's Palace, as has already been stat-
ed, under the care of an officer to whom they
had been given in charge.

The queen was particularly anxious to have
James make his escape. He was older than
the others, and in case of the death of Charles,
would be, of course, the next heir to the crown
He did, in fact, live till after the close of his
brother's reign, and succeeded him, under the
title of James the Second. His being thus in
the direct line of succession made his father
and mother very desirous of effecting his rescue,
while the Parliament were strongly desirous,
for the same reason, of keeping him safely. His
governor received, therefore, a special charge to
take the most effectual precautions to prevent
his escape, and, for this purpose, not to allow of
his having any communication whatever with
his parents or his absent friends. The govern-
or took all necessary measures to prevent such
intercourse, and, as an additional precaution,
made James promise that he would not receive
any letter from any person unless it camo
through him.

James's mother, however, not knowing these
circumstances, wrote a letter to him, and sent
it by a trusty messenger, directing him to watch

164S.] Escape of the Children. 87

The gamf3 of teonis. James refuse* the letter.

for some opportunity to deliver it unobserved.
Now there is a certain game of ball, called ten*
nis, which was formerly a favorite amusement
m England and on the Continent of Europe,
and which, in fact, continues to be played there
still. It requires an oblong inclosure, surround-
ed by high walls, against which the balls re-
bound. Such an inclosure is called a tennis
court. It was customary to build such tennis
courts in most of the royal palaces. There was
one at St. James's Palace, where the young
James, it seems, used sometimes to play.*
Strangers had the opportunity of seeing the
young prince in his coming and going ir and
from this place of amusement, and the queen's
messenger determined to offer him the letter
there. He accordingly tendered it to him
stealthily, as he was passing, saying, " Take
this ; it is from your mother." James drew
back, replying, '' I can not take it, I have
promisoQ that I will not." The messenger re-
ported to the queen that he offered the letter to

* It was to such a tennis court at Versailles that the great
National Assembly of France adjourned when the king ex-
cluded them from their hall, at the commencement of the
great Revolution, and where they took ihe famous oath not
to separate till they had established a constitution, which hai
been so celebrated in history as the Oath of the Tennis Coqrt

89 King Charles II. [1648

James recommended to escape. His contrivances.

James, and that he refused to receive it. His
mother was very much displeased, and wondered
what such a strange refusal could mean.

Although James thus failed to recei\e his
iTiOther's communication, he was allowed at
length, once or twice, to have an interview
with his father, and in these interviews the
king recommended to him to make his escape,
if he could, and to join his mother in France
James determined to obey this injunction, and
immediately set to work to plan his escape.
He was fifteen years of age, and, of course, old
enough to exercise some little invention.

He was accustomed, as we have already stat-
ed, to join the younger children in games of
hide and go seek. He began now to search for
the most recondite hiding places, where he could
not be found, and when he had concealed him-
self in such a place, he would remain there for
a very long time, until his playmates had given
up the search in despair. Then, at length, aftei
having been missing for half an hour, he would
reappear of his own accord. He thought that
by this plan he should get the children and tho
attendants accustomed to his being for a long
time out of sight, so that, when at length he
should finally disappear, their at+^Jition would

1648-] ESCAPB OF THE CHILDREN. §9

James locks up his dog. He escapes from the palace.

not be seriously attracted to the circumstance
until he should have had time to get well set
out upon his journey.

He had, like his mother, a little dog, but, un-
like her, he was not so strongly attached to it
as to be willing to endanger his life to avoid a
separation. When the time arrived, therefore,
to set out on his secret journey, he locked the
dog up in his room, to prevent its following him,
and thus increasing the probability of his being
recognized and brought back. He then engaged
his brother and sister and his other playmates
in the palace in a game of hide and go seek.
}£e went off ostensibly to hide, but, instead of
doing so, he stole out of the palace gates in com-
pany with a friend named Banfield, and a foot-
man. It was in the rear of the palace that
he made his exit, at a sort of postern gate,
which opened upon an extensive park. After
crossing the park, the party hurried on through
London, and then directed their course down
the River Thames toward Gravesend, a port
near the mouth of the river, where they intend-
ed to embark for Holland. They had taken
the precaution to disguise themselves. James
wore a wig, which, changing the color and ap-
pearance of his hair, seemed to give a totally

90 Kino Charles II [164«

James arrives in Holland. Charles's last interview with his children

new expression to his face. He substituted oth-
er clothes, too, for those which he was usually
accustomed to wear. The whole party suc-
ceeded thus in traversing the country without
detection. They reached Gravesend, embarked
on board a vessel there, and sailed to Holland,
where James joined the Prince of Orange and
his sister, and sent word to his mother that he
had arrived there in safety.

His little brother and sister were left behind.
They were too young to fly them.selves, and
too old to be conveyed away, as little Henrietta
had been, in tiie arms of another. They had,
however, the mournful satisfaction of seeing
their father just before his execution, and of
bidding him a last farewell. The king, when
he was condemned to die, bagged to be allowed
to see these children. They were brought to
visit him in the chamber where he was con-
fined. His parting interview with them, and
the messages of affeotion and farewell which ho
•ent to their brothers and sisters, and to their
mother, constitute one of the most affecting
Buenes which the telescope of history brings to
our view, in that long and distant vista of the
past, which it enables us so fully to explore.
The little Gloucester was too younjj ^ under-

1648.] Escape op the Children. 91

Sorrow of the children. Elizabeth's account

stand the sorrows of the hour, but Elizabeth
jelt them in all their intensity. She was twelve
years old. When brought to her father, she
burst into tears, and wept long and bitterly
Her little brother, sympathizing in his sister's
sorrow, though not comprehending its cause,
wept bitterly too. Elizabeth was thoughtful
enough to write an account of what took place
at this most solemn farewell as soon as it was
over. Her account is as follows :

" What the king" said to me on the 2Wi of
Jammry, 1648, the last time I had the hap-
piness to see him.

" He told me that he was glad I was come,
lor, though he had not time to say much, yet
somewhat he wished to say to me, which he
could not to another, and he had feared ' the
cruelty' was too great to permit his writing.
' But, darling,' he added, ' thou wilt forget what
I tell thee.' Then, shedding an abundance of
tears, I tokl him that I would write dowm all
he said to me. ' He wished me,' he said, 'not
to grieve and torment myself for him, for it was
B glorious death he should die, it being for the
laws and religion of the land.' He told me what
books to read against popery He said ' that"

92 King Charles II. [164S

Flizabeth's account of her interview with her father.

he had forgiven all his enemies, and he hoped
God would forgive them also ;' and he com-
manded us, and all the rest of my brothers and
sisters, to forgive them too. Above all, he bado
me tell my mother ' that his thoughts had nev-
er strayed from her, and that his love for her
would be the same to the last ;' withal, he com-
manded me (and my brother) to love her and
be obedient to her. He desired me ' not to
grieve for him, for he should die a martyr, and
that he doubted not but God would restore tha
throne to his son, and that then we should be
all happier than we could possibly have been if
he had lived.'

" Then taking my brother Gloucester on his
knee, he said, ' Dear boy, now will they cut off
thy father's head.' Upon which the child look-
ed very steadfastly upon him. ' Heed, my
child, what I say ; they will cut off my head,
and perhaps make thee a king; but, mark
what I say ! you must not be a king as long aa
your brothers Charles and James live ; there-
fore, I charge you, do not be made a king by
them ' At which the child, sighing deeply, re-
plied, ' I will be torn in pieces first.' And these
words, coming so unexpectedly from so yovmg
a chill- - jjoiced my father exceedingly. And

1650.] Escape of the Ciiildhen. 93

Perplexity of the Parliament Decline of ElizaV-th

his majesty spoke to him of the welfare of his
soul, and to keep his religion, commanding him
to fear God, and he \yould provide for him ; all
which the young child earnestly promised to do."

After the king's death the Parliament kept
these children in custody for some time, and at
last they became somewhat perplexed to know
what to do with them. It was even projiosed,
when Cromwell's Republican government had
become fully established, to bind them out ap-
prentices, to learn some useful trade. This plan
was, however, not carried into effect. They
were held as prisoners, and sent at last to Caris-
brooke Castle, where their father had been con-
fined. Little Henry, too young to understand
his sorrows, grew in strength and stature, like
any other boy ; but Elizabeth pined and sunk
under the burden of her woes. She mourned in-
cessantly her father's cruel death, her mother's
and her brother's exile, and her own wearisome
and hopeless captivity. " Little Harry," as she
called him, and a Bible, which her father gave
her in his last interview with her, were her inly
companions. She lingered along for two years
after her father's death, until at length the hec-
tic flush, the signal of approaching dissolution.

94 King Charles II. [1650

Elizabeth's huppy end. Little Henry sent tc his mother

appeared upon her cheek, and an unnatural
brilliancy brightened in her eyes. They sent
her father's physician to see if he could save
her. His prescriptions did no good. One day
the attendants came into her apartment and
found her sitting in her chair, with her cheek
resting upon the Bible which she had been read-
ing, and which she had placed for a sort of pil-
low on the table, to rest her weary head upon
when her reading was done. She was motion-
less. They would have thought her asleep, but
her eyes were not closed. She was dead. The
poor child's sorrows and sufferings were ended
forever.

The stern Republicans who now held domin-
ion over England, men of iron as they were,
could not but be touched with the unhappy fate
of this their beautiful and innocent victim ; and
they so far relented from the severity of the
policy which they had pursued toward the ill-
fated family as to send the little Gloucester,
after his sister's death, home to his mother.

1646.] Reception at Paris. 95

situation of the royal family of France.

Chapter V.
The Prince's Reception at Paris.

SO complicated a story as that of the fam-
ily of Charles can not be related, in all
its parts, in the exact order of time ; and hav-
ing now shown under what circumstances the
various members of the family made their es-
cape from the dangers which threatened them
in England, we return to follow the adventures
of Prince Charles during his residence on the
Continent, and, more particularly in this cha}>-
ter, to describe his reception by the royal fam-
ily of France. He was one of the first of the
children that escaped, having arrived in Franco
in 1646. His father was not beheaded until
two years afterward.

In order that the reader may understand dis-
tinctly the situation in which Charles found
himself on his arrival at Paris, we must first
iescribe the condition of the royal fanrxily of
France at this time. They resided sometimes
at Fontainebleau, a splendid palace in the midst
of a magnificent park about forty miles from
the city. Henrietta, it will be recollected, was

.96 King Charles IL [1646

Dentil of Loiiis XIII. Accession of Louis XIV

the sister of a king of France. This king was
Louis XIII. He died, however, not far from
the time of Queen Henrietta's arrival in the
country, leaving his little son Louis, then five
years old, heir to the crown. The little Louis
of course became king immediately, in name,
as Louis XIV., and in the later periods of his
life he attained to so high a degree of prosperi-
ty and power, that he has been, ever since his
day, considered one of the most renowned of all
the French kings. He was, of course. Prince
Charles's cousin. At the period of Prince
Charles's arrival, however, he was a mere child,
being then about eight years old. Of course,
he w^as too young really to exercise any of the
powers of the government. His mother, Anne
of Austria, was made regent, and authorized to
govern the country until the young king should
arrive at a suitable age to exercise his heredi-
tary powers in his own name. Anne of Aus-
tria had been always very kind to Henrietta,
and had always rendered her assistance \Nhen.
ever she had been reduced to any special ex-
tremity of distress. It was she who had sent
the supplies of money and clothing to Henriet-
ta when she fled, sick and destitute, to Exe-
ter, vainly hoping to find repose and the meana
of restoration there

1(346.] Rkckitiun at Paris. 97

Gaston, duke of Orleans. Other members of the roya) family

Besides King Louis XIII., who had died, Hen-
iietta had another brother, whose name was
Gaston, duke of Orleans. The Duke of Orleans
had a daughter, who was styled the Duchess of
Montpensier, deriving the title from her moth-
er. She was, of course, also a cousin of Prince
Charles. Her father, being brother of the late
king, and uncle of the present one, was made
lieutenant general of the kingdom, having thus
the second place, that is, the place next to the
queen, in the management of the affairs of the
realm. Thus the little king commenced his
reign by having in hib court his mother as queen
regent, his uncle lieutenant general, and his
aunt, an exiled queen from a sister realm, his
guest. He had also in his household his broth-
er Philip, younger than himself, his cousin the
young Duchess of Montpensier, and his cousin
the Prince Charles. The family relationship
of all these individuals will be made more clear
by being presented in a tabular form, as follows :

RoTAL Family oy Fbamcb is the timb or Louis XI^.
LouiJ Xni. Louis XIV.

Anne of Austria. Philip, 8 yeais otd.

Gaston, duke of Orleans. Duchess of Montpeojler, U
Duchess of Montpensier.

Henrietta Maria. Prince Charle*, 18.

King Charles L

G

HcmxIV

9Q King Charles II. [1646

The young king. The Palace Royal

In the above table, the first column contains
the name of Henry IV., the second those of
three of his children, with the persons whom
they respectively married, and the third the four
grandcliildren, who, as cousins, now found them-
selves domesticated together in the royal pala-
ces of France.

The young king was, as has already been
said, about eight years old at the time of Prince
Charles's arrival. The palace in which he re-
sided when in the city was the Palace Royal,
which was then, and has been ever since, one
of the most celebrated buildings in the world.
It was built at an enormous expense, during a
previous reign, by a powerful minister of state,
who was, in ecclesiastical rank, a cardinal, and
his mansion was named, accordingly, the Palace
Cardinal. It had, however, been recently taken
as a royal residence, and its name changed
to Palace Royal. Here the queen regent had
her grand apartments of state, every thing be-
ing as rich as the most lavish expenditure could
make it. She had one apartment, called an ora-
tory, a sort of closet for prayer, which was light-
ed by a large window, the sash of which was
made of silver. The interior of the room was
rmamented with the most costly paintings and

1646.J Reception at Paris. 9h

A royal household in miniiiture. Child's play on a magnificent rsala

furniture, and was enriched with a profusion of
silver and gold. The little king had his range of
apartments too, with a whole household of offi-
cers and attendants as little as himself These
children were occupied continually with ceremo-
nies, and pageants, and mock military parades,
in which they figured in miniature arms and
badges of authority, and with dresses made to
imitate those of real monarchs and ministers of
state. Every thing was regulated with the ut-
most regard to etiquette and punctilio, and with-
out any limits or bounds to the expense. Thus,
though the youthful officers of the little mon-
arch's household exercised no real power, they
displayed all the forms and appearances of royal-
ty with more than usual pomp and splendor. It
was a species of child's play, it is true, but it
was probably the most grand and magnificent
child's play that the world has ever witnessed.
It was into this extraordinary scene that Prince
Charles found himself ushered on his arrival in
France.

At the time of the prince's arrival the court
happened to be residing, not at Paris, but at
Fontainebleau. Fontainebleau, as ha? already
been stated, is about fcrt} miles from Paris, to
the southward. Tl.ere is a very splendid pal-

100 King Charles II. [1646

Pontaineblcau. Tho young Duchess de Montpensler

ace and castle there, built originally in very an-
cient times. There is a town near, both the
castle and the town being in the midst of a vast
park and forest, one of the most extended and
magnificent royal domains in Europe. This
forest has been reserved as a hunting ground
for the French kings from a very early age.
It covers an area of forty thousand acres, being
thus many miles in extent. The royal family
were at this palace at the time of Prmce
Charles's arrival, celebrating the festivities of
a marriage. The prince accordingly, as we
shall presently see, went there to join them.

There were two persons who were anticipa-
ting the prince's arrival in France with special
interest, his mother, and his young cousin, the
Duchess of Montpensier. Her Christian name
was Anne Marie Louisa.* She was a gay,
frivolous, and coquetish girl, of about nineteen,
immensely rich, being the heiress of the vast
estates of her mother, who was not living. Iler
'ather, though he was the lieutenant general of

* She is commonly called, in the annals of the day in whicb
she lived, Mademoiselle, as she was, par eminence, the joung
lady of the court. In history she is commonly called Made-
m jiselle de Montpensier; we shall call her, in this narrative.
iiinply Anne Maria, as that is, fcr our purpose, the moat con
T*aieQt desi<;nation.

1646.] Reception at Paris. 101

Character of the duchess. Marriage plana

the realm, and the former king's brother, waa
not rich. His wife, when she died, had be-
queathed all her vast estates to her daughter
A.nne Maria was naturally haughty and vain,
md; as her father was accustomed to come oc-
casionally to her to get supplies of money, she
was made vainer and more self-conceited still
by his dependence upon her. Several matches
had been proposed to her, and among them the
Emperor of Germany had been named. He
was a widower. His first wife, who had been
.^.nne Maria's aunt, had just died. As the em-
peror was a potentate of great importance, the
young belle thought she should prefer him to
any of the others who had been proposed, and she
made no secret of this her choice. It is true
that he had made no proposal to her, but she
presumed that he would do so after a suitable
time had elapsed from the death of his first wife,
and Anne Maria was contented to wait, consid-
ering the lofty elevation to which she would at-
tain on becoming his bride.

But Queen Henrietta Maria had anothei
plan. She was very desirous to obtain Anne
Maria for the wift of her son Charles. There
were many reasons for this. The young lady
was a princess of the royal family of Fi ance j

102 King Charles TI. [1646

Qaeen Henrietta's plan for Ciiarles and Anne Maria.

she possessed, too, an immense fortune, and was
young and beautiful withal, though not quite
so young as Charles himself. He was sixteen,
and she was about nineteen. It is true that
Charles was now, in some sense, a fugitive and
an exile, destitute of property, and without a
home. Still he was a prince. He was the heir
apparent of the kingdoms of England and Scot-
land. He was young and accomplished. These
high qualifications, somewhat exaggerated, per-
haps, by maternal partiality, seemed quite suf-
ficient to Henrietta to induce the proud duchess
to become the prince's bride.

All this, it must be remembered, took place
before the execution of King Charles the First,
and when, of course, the fortunes of the family
were not so desperate as thoy afterward be-
came. Queen Henrietta had a great many
conversations with Anne Maria before the prince
arrived, in which she praised very highly his
person and his accomplishments. She narrated
to the duchess the various extraordinary adven-
tures and the narrow escapes which the prince
had met with in the course of his wanderings
In England ; she told her how dutiful and kind
he had been to her as a son, and how efficient
and courajjeous in his father's cause as a soidier

1646.] Reception at Paris. 103

Prince Charles goes to Paris. lie proceeds to Fontainebleau.

She described his appearance and his manners,
and foretold how he would act, what tastes and
preferences he would form, and how he would
be regarded in the French court. The young
duchess listened to all this with an appearance
of indifference and unconcern, which was part-
ly real and partly only assumed. She could not
help feeling some curiosity to see her cousin,
but her head was too full of the grander desti-
nation of being the wife of the emperor to think
much of the pretensions of this wandering and
homeless exile.

Prince Charles, on his arrival, went first to
Paris, where he found his mother. There was
an invitation for them here to proceed to Fon-
tainebleau, where, as has already been stated,
the young king and his court were now residing.
They went there accordingly, and were received
with every mark of attention and honor. The
queen regent took the young king into the car-
riage of state, and rode some miles along the
avenue, through the forest, to meet the prince
and his mother when they were coming. They
were attended with the usual cortege of carria-
ges and horsemen, and they moved with all the
etiquette and ceremony proper to be obserred
iu the reception of royal visitors.

104 King Ciiaiu.hs U, [1C46.

Meeting In the forest The prince and the duchesa

When the carriages met in the forest, they
stopped, and the distinguished personages con-
tained in them alighted. Queen Henrietta in-
troduced her son to the queen regent and to
Louis, the French king, and also to other per-
sonages of distinction who were in their train.
Among them was Anne Maria. The queen re-
gent took Henrietta and the prince into the car-
riage with her and the young king, and they
proceeded thus together back to the palace.
Prince Charles was somewhat embarrassed in
making all these new acquaintances, in circum-
stances, too, of so much ceremony and parade,
and the more so, as his knowledge of the French
language was imperfect. He could understand
it when spoken, but could not speak it well him-
self, and he appeared, accordingly, somewhat
awkward and confused. He seemed particu-
larly at a loss in his intercourse with Anne
Maria. She was a little older than himself,
and, being perfectly at home, both in the cere-
monies of the occasion and in the language of
the company, she felt entirely at her ease her-
self; and yet, from her natural temperament
and character, she assumed such an air and
bearing as would tend to prevent the prince
from being so. In a word, it happened then.

I64(i.] Reception at Paris. 105

inne Maria's memolra. Her deicriptlon of tbe priiuia

as it has often happened since on similar occa-
sions, that the beau was afraid of the belle.

The party returned to the palace. On alight-
ing, the little king gave his hand to his aunt^
the Queen of England, while Prince Charles
gave his to the queen regent, and thus the two
matrons were gallanted into the hall. The
prince had a seat assigned him on the following
day in the queen regent's drawing-room, and was
thus regularly instated as an inmate of the roy-
al household. He remained here several days,
and at length the whole party returned to Paris.

Anne Maria, in after years, wrote reminis-
cences of her early life, which were published
after her death. In this journal she gives an
account of her introduction to the young prince,
and of her first acquaintance with him. It is
expressed as follows :

" He was only sixteen or seventeen years of
age, rather tall, with a fine head, black hair, a
dark complexion, and a tolerably agreeable
C50untenance. But he neither spoke nor un-
derstood French, which was very inconvenient
Nevertheless, every thing was done to amuse
him, and, during the three days that he re-
mained at Fontainebleau, there were hunts and
every other sport which could be commanded

106 King Charles tl. [1646.

Return to Puris. Impiessions on Charles

in that season. He paid his respects to all tho
princesses, and I discovered immediately that
the Queen of England wished to persuade me
that he had fallen in love with me. She told
me that he talked of me incessantly ; that, were
she not to prevent it, he would be in my apart-
ment* at all hours ; that he found me quite to
his taste, and that he was in despair on account
of the death of the empress, for he was afraid
that they would seek to marry me to the em-
peror. I listened to all she said as became me,
but it did not have as much effect upon me as
probably she wished."

After spending a few days at Fontainebleau,
the whole party returned to Paris, and Queen
Henrietta and the prince took up their abode
again in the Palace Royal, or, as it is now more
commonly called, the Palais Royal. Charles
was much impressed with the pomp and splen-
dor of the French court, so different from the
rough mode of life to which he had been accus-
tomed in his campaigns and wanderings in En-
gland. The etiquette and formality, however,
were extreme, every thing, even the minutest
motions, being regulated by nice rules, which

• This means at her residence. The whole suite of roona»
DCCUpied by a family is ct^UoJ, in fiance, their apartment

1646.] Reception at Paris. 107

Pomp and splendor. Anecdotes of the court.

made social intercourse and enjoyment one per-
peiual ceremony. But, notwithstanding all this
pomp and splendor, and the multitude of ofli-
cers and attendants who were constantly on
service, there seems to have been, in the results
obtained, a strange mixture of grand parade
with discomfort and disorder. At one time at
Fontainebleau, at a great entertainment, where
all the princes and potentates that had been
drawn there by the wedding were assembled^
the cooks quarreled in the kitchen, and one of
the courses of the supper failed entirely in con-
sequence of their dissensions ; and at another
time, as a large party of visitors were passing
out through a suite of rooms in great state, to
descend a grand staircase, where some illustri-
ous foreigners, who were present, were to take
their leave, they found the apartments through
which they were to pass all dark. The servants
aad neglected or forgotten to light them.

These and similar incidents show that there
may be regal luxury and state without order
or comfort, as there may be regal wealth and
power without any substantial happiness. Not-
withstanding this, however. Prince Charles soon
became strongly interested in the modes of life
Ui which he was introduced at Pari? and at

108 King Charles II. [164:

Gay lite of the prince His attention to Anna Maiit

Fontainebleau There were balls, parties, fes-
tivities, and excursions of pleasure without num-
ber, his interest in these all being heightened
by the presence of Anne Maria, whom he soon
began to regard with a strong degree of that pe-
culiar kind of interest which princesses and heir-
esses inspire. In Anno Maria's memoirs of her
early life, we have a vivid description of many of
the scenes in wliich both she herself and Charles
were such prominent actors. She wrote always
with great freedom, and in a very graphic man-
ner, so that the tale which she tells of this period
of her life forms a very entertaining narrative.

Anne Maria gives a very minute account of
what took place between herself and Charlea
on several occasions in the course of their ac-
quaintance, and describes particularly various
balls, and parties, and excursions of pleasure on
which she was attended by the young prince.
Her vanity was obviously gratified by the inter-
est which Charles seemed to take in her, but
she was probably incapable of any feelings of
deep and disinterested love, and Charles made
no impression upon her heart. 8he reserved
herself for the emperor.

For example, they were all one night invited
to a grand ball by the Duchess de Cboisy. This

1647.] RECiiiPTioN AT Paris. 109

The Duchess de Choisy s ball. Anne Maria's toUet

lady lived in a magnificent mansion, called the
Hotel de Choisy. Just before the time came
for the party of visitors to go, the Queen of En-
gland came over with Charles to the apartments
of Anne Maria. The queen came ostensibly to
give the last touches to the adjustment of the
young lady's dress, and to the arrangement of
her hair, but really, without doubt, in pursu-
ance of her policy of taking every occasion to
bring the young people together.

" She came," says Anne Maria, in her nar-
rative, " to dress me and arrange my hair her-
self. She came for this purpose to my apart-
ments, and took the utmost pains to set me off
to the best advantage, and the Prince of Wales
held the flambeau near me to light my toilet
the whole time. I wore black, white, and car-
nation ; and my jewelry was fastened by ribbons
of the same colors. I wore a plume of the same
kind ; all these had been selected and ordered
by my aunt Henrietta. The queen regent, who
knew that I was in my aunt Henrietta's hands,
sent for me to come and see her when I was all
ready, before going to the ball. I accordingly
went, and this gave the prince an opportunity
to go at once to the Hotel de Choisy, and be
ready there to receive me when I should arrive

no King Ckarles II. [1648.

The prince's assiduitieB. F^te at the Palais Royal

I found him there at the door, ready to hand me
from my coach. I stopped in a chamber to re--
adjust my hair, and the Prince of Wales again
held a flamibeau for me. This time, too, he
brought his cousin, Prince Rupert, as an inter-
preter between us ; for, believe it who will,
though he could understand every word I said to
him, he could not- reply the least sentence to me
in French. When the ball was finished and we
retired, the prince followed me to the porter's
lodge of my hotel,* and lingered till I entered,
and then went his way.

" There was another occasion on which his
gallantry to me attracted a great deal of atten-
tion. It was at a great fete celebrated at the
Palais Royal. There was a play acted, with
scenery and music, and then a ball. It took
three whole days to arrange my ornaments for
this night. The Queen of England would dress
me on this occasion, also, with her own hands.
My robe was all figured with diamonds, with

* In all the great houses in Paris, the principal buildiags of
the edifice stand back from the street, sur'onnding a court-
jard, which has sometimes shrubbery and flowers and a
foantain in the center. The entrance to this court-yard is by
a great gate and archway on the street, with the apartmenta
occupied by the porter, that is, the keeper of the gate, on one
■ide. The «ntranoe to the porter's l()dg« 'u from ander th«
■rcfawaj.

1648.] RfiCEPTitN AT Paris. Ill

Anne Maria's dress. News of the beheading of Charles I

carnation trimmings. I wore the jewels of the
crown of France, and, to add to them, the Queen
of England lent me some fine ones of her own,
which she had not then sold. The queen praised
the fine turn of my shape, my air, the beauty
of my complexion, and the brightness of my
light hair. I had a conspicuous seat in the
middle of the ball-room, with the young King
of France and the Prince of Wales at my feet
r did not feel the least embarrassed, for, as I had
an idea of marrying the emperor, I regarded the
Prince of Wales only as an object of pity."

Things went on in this way for a time, until
ttt last some political difficulties occurred at Par-
is which broke ia upon the ordinary routine of
the royal family, and drove them, for a time, out
of the city. Before these troubles were over,
Henrietta and her son were struck down, as by
a blow, by the tidings, which came upon them
like a thunderbolt, that their husband and fa-
ther had been behead&!:3. This dreadful event
put a stop for a time to every thing like festive
pleasures. The queen left her children, her
palace, and all the gay circle of her friends, and
retired to a convent, to mourn, in solitude and
undisturbed, her irreparable loss.

112 Kino Charles 11. [1648

Charles becomes king. Henrietta's distreaa

Chapter VI.
Negotiations with Anne Maria.

OUR Prince Charles now becomes, by the;
death of his father, King Charles the Sec-
ond, both of England and cf Scotland. That
is, he becomes so in theory, according to the
principles of the English Constitution, though,
in fact, he is a fugitive and an exile still. Not-
withstanding his exclusion, however, from the
exercise of what he considered his right to reign,
he was acknowledged as king by all true Roy-
alists in England, and by all the continental
powers. They would not aid him to recover
his throne, but in the courts and royal palaces
which he visited he was regarded as a king, and
was treated, in form at least, with all the con-
sideration and honor which belonged to royalty.
Queen Henrietta was overwhelmed with grief
Wid despair when she learned the dreadful tid*
ings of the execution of her husband. At the
time when these tidings came to her, she was
involved, also, in many other sufferings and tri-
als As was intimated in the last chapter, ae^

1649.J Anne Maria. lib

Difficulties In Paris. Jlight of the i oyal family

rious difliculties had occurred between the roy-
al family of France and the government and
people of the city of Paris, from which a sort
of insurrection had resulted, and the young king
and his mother, together with all the principal
personages of the court, had been compelled to
fly from the city, in the night, to save their lives.
They went in a train of twenty or thirty car-
riages, by torch-light, having kept their plan a
profound secret until the moment of their de-
parture. The young king was asleep in his
bed until the time arrived, when they took him
up and put him into the carriage. Anne Maria,
whose rank and wealth gave her a great deal
of influence and power, took sides, in some de-
gree, with the Parisians in tliis contest, so that
her aunt, the queen regent, considered her as
an enemy rather than a friend. She, however,
took her with them in their flight ; but Anno
Maria, being very much out jf humor, did all
she could to tease and torment the party all the
way. When they awoke her and informed her
of their ])roposed escape from Paris, she was, as
she says in her memoirs, very much delighted^
for she knew that the movement was very un-
wise, and would ge-t her aunt, the queen regent,
and all their friends, into serious difficulties.
H

114 King Charles 11. [1649.

/tnne Maria's ill humor. Her preyarlcatioD.

She dressed herself as quick as she could, came
down stairs, and proceeded to enter the queen
regent's coach, saying that she wanted to have
one or the other of certain seats — naming the
best places — as she had no idea, she said, of be-
ing exposed to cold, or riding uncomfortably on
such a night. The queen told her that those
seats were for herself and another lady of high
rank who was with her, to which Anne Maria
replied, " Oh, very well ; I suppose young la-
dies ought to give up to old people."

In the course of conversation, as they were
preparing to ride away, the queen asked Anne
Maria if she was not surprised at being called
up to go on such an expedition. " Oh no," said
she ; " my father" (that is, Gaston, the duke of
Orleans) " told me all about it beforehand."
This was not true, as she says herself in liei
own account of these transactions. She Icncw
nothing about the plan until she was called from
her bed. She said this, therefore, only to tease
her aunt by the false pretension that the secret
had been confided to her. Her aunt, however,
did not believe her, and said, " Then why did
you go to bed, if you knew what was going on ?"
" Oh," replied Anne Maria, " 1 thought it would
be a good plan to get s'lme sleep, as T did not

16491 Anne Maria. li:

Terror and confusion. ArriTal of the royal family at St Gerroain't

Know whether I should even have a bed to li*
upon to-morrow night."

The party of fugitives exhibited a scone of
great terror and confusion, as they were as
sembling and crowding into their carriages, bo-
fore they left the court of the Palais Royal. It
was past midnight, in the month of January,
and there was no moon. Called up suddenly as
they were from their beds, and frightened with
imaginary dangers, they all pressed forward,
eager to go ; and so hurried was their departure,
that they took with them very scanty supplies,
even for their most ordinary wants. At length
they drove away. They passed rapidly out of
the city. They proceeded to an ancient palace
and castle called St. Germain's, about ten miles
northeast of Paris. Anne JVIaria amused her-
self with the fears, and difficulties, and priva-
tions which the others suffered, and she gives an
account of the first night they spent in the place
of their retreat, which, as it illustrates her tern-
peramcnt and character, the reader will like,
perhaps, to see.

" I slept in a very handsome room, well paint-
ed, well gilded, and large, with very little firo,
•jid no windows,* which is not very agreeable

• That is, with no glass to the windows.

118 kiNG Charles II. [1649

Inconveniences and privations of the party at St. Germain"*.

in the month of January. I slept on mattress-
es, which were laid upon the floor, and my sis-
ter, who had no bed, slept with me. I wa4
obliged to sing to get her to sleep, and then hei
slumber did not last long, so that she disturbed
mine. She tossed about, felt me near her, woke
up, and exclaimed that she saw the beast, so I
was obliged to sing again to put her to sleep,
and in that way I passed the night. Judge
whether this was an agreeable situation for one
who had had little or no sleep the night before,
and who had been ill all winter with colds.
However, the fatigue and exposure of this ex-
pedition cured me

" In a short time my father gave me his room,
but as nobody knew I was there. I was awoke
in the night by a noise. I drew back my cur-
tain, and was astonished to find my chamber
filled with men in large buff skin collars, and
who appeared surprised to see me, and knew
me as little as I did them. I had no change of
iinen, and when I wanted any thing washed, it
rag done in the night, while I was in bed. I
had no women to arrange my hair and dress me,
which is very inconvenient. Still I did not lose
my gayety, and they were in admiration at my
making no complaint ; and it is true that I ara

IG49.J Anne Maria. 119

Anne Maria's adventures. Her courage and energy.

a creature that can make the most of every
thing, and am greatly above trifles."

To feel any commiseration for this young
lady, on account of the alarm which she may
be supposed to have experienced at seeing all
those strange men in her chamber, would be
sympathy thrown away, for her nerves were not
of a sensibility to be affected much by such a
circumstance as that. In fact, as the difficult-
ies between the young king's government and
the Parisians increased, Anne Maria played
quite the part of a heroine. She went back
and forth to Paris in her carriage, through the
mob, when nobody else dared to go. She some-
times headed troops, and escorted ladies and
gentlemen when they were afraid to go alone.
Once she relieved a town, and once she took the
command of the cannon of the Bastile, and is-
sued her orders to fire with it upon the troops,
with a composure which would have done honor
to any veteran officer of artillery. We can not
go into all these things here in detail, as they
would lead us too far away from the subject of
this narrative. We only allude to them, to give
our readers some distinct idea of the tempera-
ment and character of the rich and blooming
beauty whom young King Charles was wishing
3o ardentlv to make his bride.

120 King Charles II. [164U

SituatioD of Henrietta. Her destitution nnd dangers.

During the time that these difficulties con-
tinued in Paris, Queen Henrietta's situation
was extremely unhappy. She was shut up in
the palace of the Louvre, which became now
her prison rather than her home. She was sep-
arated from the royal family ; her son, the king,
was generally absent in Holland or in Jersey,
and her palace was often surrounded by mobs ;
whenever she ventured out in her carriage, she
was threatened with violence and outrage by
the populace in such a manner as to make her
retreat as soon as possible to the protection of
the palace walls. Her pecuniary means, too,
were exhausted. She sold her jewels, from
time to time, as long as they lasted, and then
contracted debts which her creditors were con-
tinually pressing her to pay. Her friends at St
Germain's could not help her otherwise than by
asking her to come to them. This she at last
concluded to do, and she made her escape from
Paris, under the escort of Anne Maria, who
came to the city for the purpose of conducting
her, and who succeeded, though with infinite
difficulty, in securing a safe passage for Henri-
etta through the crowds of creditors and politi-
sal foes who threatened to prevent her journey.
These troubles weie all, however, at last settled^

1649.1 Anne Maria. 125

Charlei'i plans for regaining his kingdom. The English r.xileft

and in the autumn (1649) the whole party re*
turned again to Paris.

In the mean time the young King Charles
was contriving schemes for getting possession
of his realm. It will be recollected that his sis-
tei Mary, who married the Prince of Orange,
was at this time residing at the Hague, a city
in Holland, near the sea. Charles went often
there. It was a sort of rendezvous for those
who had been obliged to leave England on ac-
count of their attachment to his father's for-
tunes, and who, now that the father was dead,
transferred their loyalty to the son. They felt
a very strong desire that Charles's plans for get-
ting possession of his kingdom should succeed,
and they were willing to do every thing in their
power to promote his success. It must not be
supposed, however, that they were governed in
this by a disinterested principle of fidelity to
Charles himself personally, or to the justice of his
causa. Their own re-establishment in wealth
and power was at stake as well as his, and they
were ready to make common cause with him,
knowing that they could save themselves from
ruin only by reinstating him.

Charles had his privy council and a sort of
court at the Hague, and he arranged channely

122 King Charles II. [l«J^b.

Charles at the Hague and at Jersey. /one Marta

of communication, centering there, for collecting
intelligence from England and Scotland, and
through these he watched in every way for the
opening of an opportunity to assert his rights to
the British crown. He went, too, to Jersey,
where the authorities and the inhabitants were
on his side, and both there and at the Hague
he busied himself with plans for rai?<ing funds
and levying troops, and securing co-operation
from those of the people of England who still
remained loyal. Ireland was generally in his
favor too, and he seriously meditated an expe-
dition there. His mother was unwilling to have
him engage in these schemes. She was afraid
he would, sooner or later, involve himself in
dangers from which he could not extricate him-
self, and that he would end by being plunged
into the same pit of destruction that had in-
gulfed his father.

Amid all these political schemes, however,
Charles did not forget Anne Maria. He was
sager to secure her for his bride ; for her for-
tune, and the power and influence of her con-
nections, would aid him very much in recover-
ing his throne. Her hope of marrying the Em-
peror of Germany, too, was gone, for that poten-
tate had chosen another wife. Charles there

1649.] Anne

Maria.

I2y

Anne Maria discontented.

Charles'8 mcssengei

fore continued his attentions to the young lady.
She would not give liim any distinct 'and deci-
eive answer, but kept the subject in a state of
perpetual negotiation. She was, in fact, grow-
ing more and more discontented and unhappy
in disposition all the time. Her favorite plan
of marrying the emperor had been thwarted, in
part, by the difficulties which her friends — hex
father and her aunt especially — had contrived
secretly to throw in the way, while outwardly
and ostensibly they appeared to be doing all in
their power to promote her wishes. They di('
not wish to have her married at all, as by this
event the management of her vast fortune would
pass out of their hands. She discovered this,
their double dealing, when it was too late, and
she was overwhelmed with vexation and chagrin.

Things being in this state, Charles sent a spe-
cial messenger, at one time, from the Hague,
with instructions to make a formal proposal to
Anne Maria, and to see if he could not bring
the affair to a close. The name of this messen-
ger was Lord Germain.

The queen regent and her father urged Anna
Maria now to consent to the proposal. They
told her that Charles's prospects were brighten-
ing— that they themselves were going to rendei

124 Kino Charles II. [1649

Lord Germun'i proposal. Anne Maria seems to yield

him powerful protection — that he had already
acquired several allies — that there were whole
provinces in England that were in his favor ;
and that all Ireland, which was, as it were, a
kingdom in itself, was on his side. Whether
they seriously desired that Anne Maria would
consent to Charles's proposals, or only urged,
for effect, what they knew very well she would
persist in refusing, it is impossible to ascertain
If this latter were their design, it seemed likely
to fail, for Anne Maria appeared to yield. She
was sorry, she said, that the situation of affairs
in Paris was not such as to allow of the French
government giving Charles effectual help in
gaining possession of the throne ; but still, not
withstanding that, she was ready to do wha<
ever they might think best to command.

Lord Germain then said that he should pro
cced directly to Holland and escort Charles tc
France, and he wanted Anne Maria to give him
a direct and positive reply ; for if she would
really accept his proposal, he would come at
once to court and claim her as his bride ; other-
wise he must proceed to Ireland, for the state
of his affairs demanded his presence there. But
if she would accept his proposal, he would im-
mediately come to Paris, and have the marriage

1649.] Anne Maria. 125

Plan of Lord Germain. Aono Maria's objectlonai

ceremony performed, and then he would re-
main afterward some days with her, that she
might enjoy the lienors and distinctions to which
ihe would become entitled as the queen con-
jort of a mighty realm. He would then, if she
liked the plan, take her to Saint Germain's,
where his mother, her aunt, was then residing,
and establish her there while he was recover-
ing his kingdom ; or, if she preferred it, she
might take up her residence in Paris, where she
had been accustomed to live.

To this the young lady replied that the last-
mentioned plan, that is, that she should con-
tinue to live at Paris after being married to
Charles, was one that she could not think of.
She should feel altogether unwilling to remain
and enjoy the gayeties and festivities of Paris
while her husband was at the head of his armies,
exposed to all the dangers and privations of a
camp ; nor should she consider it right to go on
incurring the expenses which a lady of her rank
ind position must necessarily bear in such a city,
while he was perhaps embarrassed and distress-
ed with the difficulties of providing funds for his
own and his followers' necessities. She should
feel, in fact, bound, if she were to become his
wife, to do all in her power to assist him ; and

125 Kino Charles IL [1649

Lord Oennaio's repUei. The ■nbject renewed.

it would end, she foresaw, in her having to dis-
pose of all her property, and expend the avails
in aiding him to recover his kingdom. This,
she said, she confessed alarmed her. It was a
great sacrifice for he^ \o make, reared as she had
been in opulence and luxury.

Lord Germain replied that all this was doubts
less true, but then, on the other hand, he would
venture to remind her that there was no other
suitable match for her in Europe. He then
went on to name the principal personages. The
Emperor of Germany and the King of Spain
were both married. Some other monarch was
just about to espouse a Spanish princess. Oth-
ers whom he named were too young ; others,
again, too old ; and a certain prince whom he
mentioned had been married, he said, these ten
years, and his wife was in excellent health, so
that every species of hope seemed to be cut off
in that quarter.

This conversation leading to no decisive re-
8ult, Lord Germain renewed the subject after
a few days, and pressed Anne Maria for a finaJ
answer. She said, now, that she had a very
high regard for Queen Henrietta, and, inde^od,
a very strong affection for her ; so »trong that
she should be willing to waive, for Henrietta's

i649.] Anne Maria 127

Annn Maria objects to Charles's religion. The negotiation broken off.

sake, all her objections to the disadvantages of
Charles's position ; but there was one objection
which she felt that she could not surmount, and
that was his religion. He was a Protestant,
while she was a Catholic. Charles must re-
move this difficulty himself, which, if he had
any regard for her, he certainly would be willing
to do, since she would have to make so many
sacrifices for him. Lord Germam, however,
immediately discouraged this idea. He said
that the position of Charles in respect to his
kingdom was such as to render it impossible
for him to change his religious faith. In fact,
if he were to do so, he would be compelled to
give up, at once, all hope of ever getting pos-
yession of his throne. Anne Maria knew this
very well. The plea, however, made an excel-
lent excuse to defend herself with from Lord
Germain's importunities. She adhered to it,
therefore, pertinaciously ; the negotiation was
broken off, and Lord Germain went away.

Young adventurers like Charles, who wish
to marry great heiresses, have always to exer
else a great deal of patience, and to submit to
a great many postponements and delays, even
though they are successful in the end ; and sov-
ereign princes are not ey^irptcd, any more than

'.28 King Charles II. [1649

Voman'i brief power. Charles takes the subject in hl« own band*

>ther men, from this necessity. Dependent as
woman is during all the earlier and all the latei
years of her life, and subjected as she is to the
control, and too often, alas ! to the caprice and
injustice of man, there is a period — brief, it is
true — ^when she is herself in power ; and such
characters as Anne Maria like to exercise their
authority, while they feel that they possess it,
with a pretty high hand. Charles seems to
have felt the necessity of submitting to the in-
convenience of Anne Maria's capricious delays,
and, as long as she only continued to make ex-
cuses and objections instead of giving him a di-
rect and positive refusal, he was led to persevere.
Accordingly, not long after the conversations
which his messenger had held with the lady as
already described, he determined to come him-
self to France, and see if he could not accom-
plish something by his own personal exertions.
He accordingly advanced to Peronne, which
was not far from the frontier, and sent forward
t courier to announce his approach. The royal
family concluded to go out in their carriages to
meet him. They were at this time at a famous
royal resort a few leagues from Paris, called
Compiegne. Charles was to dine at Compi-
egne, and then to proceed on toward Paris, where

1649.] Anne Mari\. 129

The royal family ride out to meet Charles. Remark of the queen regent

he had business to transact connected with his
political plans.

Anne Maria gives a minute account of the
ride of the royal family to meet Charles on his
approach to Compiegne, and of the interview
with him, on her part, which attended it. She
dressed herself in the morning, she says, with
great care, and had her hair curled, which she
seldom did except on very special occasions
When she entered the carriage to go out to
meet the king, the queen regent, observing her
appearance, said archly, " How easy it is to tell
when young ladies expect to meet their lovers."
Anne Maria says that she had a great mind to
tell her, in reply, that it ivas easy, for those who
had had a great deal of experience in prepar-
ing to meet lovers themselves. She did not,
however, say this, and the forbearance seems
to show that there was, after all, the latent ele-
ment of discretion and respect for superiors in
her character, though it showed itself so seldom
in action.

They rode out several miles to meet the com-
ing king ; and when the two parties met, they
all alighted, and saluted each other by the road
side, the ladies and gentlemen that accompa-
aied them standing around. Anne Maria no.
I

130 Kino Charles IL [1649

The meeting nt Compiegne. Anne Maria'8 dUpleatnre

tioed that Charles addressed the king and queen
regent first, and then her. After a short de-
lay they got into their carriages again — King
Charles entering the carriage with their majes-
ties and Anne Maria — and they rode together
thus back to Compiegne.

Anne Maria, however, does not seem to have
been in a mood to be pleased. She says that
Charles began to talk with the king — Louis
XIV. — who was now twelve years old, about
the dogs and horses, and the hunting customs
in the country of the Prince of Orange. He
talked on these subjects fluently enough in the
French language, but when afterward the queen
regent, who would naturally be interested in a
different class of topics, asked him about the
affairs of his own kingdom and his plans for re-
covering it, he excused himself by saying that
he did not speak French well enough to give
her the information. Anne Maria says she de-
termined from that moment not to conclude the
marriage, "for I conceived a very poor opinioni
of him, being i king, and at his age, to have no
knowledge of his affairs." Such minds as Anne
Maria's are seldom very logical ; but such an
inference as this, that he was ignorant of his
own affairs because he declined explaining plans

1650.] Anne Mabia. 131

CkarlM emto so ortokna. Anna Maria's diiplMaore.

whose success depended on secrecy in such a
company as that, and in a language with which,
though he could talk about dogs and horses in
it, he was still very imperfectly acquainted, is
far too great a jump from premises to conclu-
sion to be honestly made. It is very evident
that Anne Maria was not disposed to be pleased.
They arrived at Compiegne. As the king
was going on that evening, dinner was served
soon after they arrived. Anne Maria says he
ate no ortolans, a very expensive and rare dish of
little birds, which had been prepared expressly
for this dinner in honor of the royal guest,* " but
flung himself upon a piece of beef and a shoul-
der of mutton, as if there had been nothing else
at table. After dinner, when we were in the
drawing-room, the queen amused herself with
the other ladies and gentlemen, and left him
with me. He was a quarter of an hour with-
out speaking a word ; but I am willing to be-
lieve that his silence was the result of respect
rather than any want of passion, though on this

* The ortolan is a very small bird, which is fattened in
lamp-lighted rooms at great expense, because it is found to
be of a more delicate flavor when excluded from the day<
aght. They come frmn the island of Cyprus, and have beep
famoos in cvwy ■§• of tlM world as an article of royal lox
oiy.

132 KiN'v Oharles II. [1650

Charles's silence. Dep«rture (or Pari?

occasion, I frankly confess, I could have wished
it less plainly exhibited. After a while, getting
tired of his tediousness, I called another lady
to my side, to see if she could not make him
talk. She succeeded. Presently one of the
gentlemen of the party came to me and said,
He kept looking at you all dinner time, and is
looking at you still. To which I replied. He
has plenty of time to look at me before he wiE
please me, if he does not speak. The gentle-
man rejoined. Oh, he has said tender things
enough to you, no doubt, only you don't like to
admit it. To which I answered. Come and
seat yourself by me the next time he is at my
side, and hear for yourself how he talks about
it." She says she then went and addressed
the king herself, asking him various questions
about persons who were in his suite, and that
he answered them all with an air of mere com-
mon politeness, without any gallantry at all.

Finally, the hour for the departure of Charles
and his party arrived, and the carriages came
to the door. The French king, together with
his mother and Anne Maria, and the usual at-
tendants, accompanied them some miles into
the forest on their way, and then, all alighting,
as they had done when they met in the morn*

1650.] Anne Maria. 13S

rhe farewell in the forest Anue Maria's account of it

ing, they took leave of each other with the usu-
al ceremonies of such occasions. Charles, aftei
bidding King Louis farewell, advanced with
Lord Germaiii, who was present in his suite at
that time, to Anne Maria, and she gives the fol-
lowing rather petulant account of what passed :
" ' I believe,' said Charles, ' that my Lord Ger-
main, who speaks French better than I do, has
explained to you my sentiments and my inten-
tion. I am your very obedient servant.' I an-
swered that I was equally his obedient servant.
Germain paid me a great number of compli-
ments, the king standing by. After they were
over, the king bowed and departed."

Charles, who had been all his life living rough-
ly in camps, felt naturally ill at ease in the brill-
iant scenes of ceremony and splendor which the
French court presented ; and this embarrass-
ment was greatly increased by the haughty air
and manner, and the ill-concealed raillery of the
lady whose favorable regard he was so anxious
to secure. His imperfect knowledge of the lan-
guage, and his sense of the gloomy uncertainty
of his own prospects in life, tended strongly to
increase his distrust of himself and his timidi-
ty. We should have wished that he could have
experienced somewhat kinder treatiient from

1J4 King Charles II. [1650.

(Maries's motlreB. A now opening for Amio Marlai

the object of his regard, were it not that his
character, and especially his subsequent histo-
ry, show that he was entirely mercenary and
selfish himself in seeking her hand. If we can
ever, in any instance, pardon the caprice and
wanton cruelty of a coquette, it is when these
qualities are exercised in thwarting the designs
of a heartless speculator, who is endeavoring to
fill his coffers with money by offering in ex-
change for it a mere worthless counterfeit of
love.

Charles seems to have been totally discoui
aged by the result of this unfortunate dinner
party at Compiegne. He went to Paris, and
from Paris he went to St. Germain's, where he
remained for several months with his mother,
revolving in his mind his fallen fortunes, and
forming almost hopeless schemes for seeking to
restore them. In the mean time, the wife whom
the Emperor of Germany had married instead
of Anne Maria, died, and the young belle sprang
immediately into the excitement of a new hope
of attaining the great object of her ambition
after all. The emperor was fifty years of age,
and had four children, but he was the Emper*
or of Germany, and that made amends for alL
A.nn» Maria immediately began to lay her trains

1650.] Anne Maria. 135

Anse Maria's plans. Her farewell visit

again for becoming his bride. What her plana
were, and how they succeeded, we shall, per-
haps, have occasion hereafter to describe.

Though her heart was thus set upon having
the emperor for her husband, she did not like,
in the mean time, quite to give up her younger
and more agreeable beau. Besides, her plans
of marrying the emperor might fail, and Charles
might succeed in recovering his kingdom. It
was best, therefore, not to bring the negotia-
tion with him to too absolute a close. When the
time arrived, therefore, for Charles to take his
departure, she thought she would just ride out
to St. Germain's and pay her respects to Queen
Henrietta, and bid the young king good-by.

Neither Queen Henrietta nor her son at-
tempted to renew the negotiation of his suite on
the occasion of this visit. The queen told Anne
Maria, on the other hand, that she supposed she
ought to congratulate her on the death of the
Empress of Germany, for, though the negotia-
tion for her marriage with him had failed on a
former occasion, she had no doubt it would be
resumed now, and would be successful. .Anne
Maria replied, with an air of indifference, that
she did not know or think any thing about it
The queen then said that she knew of a young

136 King Charles IL [1650

Henrietta'! remarks. A party

man, not very far from them, who thought that
a king of nineteen years of age was better for
a husband than a man of fifty, a widower with
four children, even if he was an emperor.
" However," said she, " we do not know what
turn things may take. My son may succeed
in recovering his kingdom, and then, perhaps,
if you should be in a' situation to do so, you
may listen more favorably to his addresses."

Anne Maria was not to return directly back
to Paris. She was going to visit her sisters,
who lived at a little distance beyond. The
Duke of York, that is, Henrietta's son James,
then fourteen or fifteen years old, proposed to
accompany her. She consented. Charles then
proposed to go too. Anne Maria objected to
this, saying that it was not quite proper. She
had no objection to James's going, as he was a
mere youth. Queen Henrietta removed her ob-
jection by offering to join the party herself; so
they all went together. Anne Maria says that
Charles treated her with great politeness and
attention all the way, and paid her many com-
pliments, but made no attempt to bring up
again, in any way, the question of his suit.
She was very glad he did not, she says, for her
mind being now occupied with the plan of mar-

1650.] Anne Maria. 137

rhe marriage broken up. Charles turns to other subjects.

rying the emperor, nothing that he could have
■iaid would have done any good.

Thus the question was considered as virtually
settled, and King Charles, soon after, turned his
thoughts toward executing the plans which he
had been long revolving for the recovery of his
kingdom.

1S8 King Charles iJ. 1165Q

Charles resolTU on m expedition Into Scotland. Els foUowera

Chapter VII.

The Royal Oak of Boscobel.

TT was in June, 1650, about eighteen montha
-*- after the decapitation of his father, that
Charles was ready to set out on his expedition
to attempt the recovery of his rights to the En-
glish throne. He was but twenty years of age.
He took with him no army, no supplies, no re-
sources. He had a small number of attendants
and followers, personally interested themselves
in his success, and animated also, probably, by
some degree of disinterested attachment to him.
[t was, however, on the whole, a desperate en-
terprise. Queen Henrietta, in her retirement
at the Louvre, felt very anxious about the re
suit of it. Charles himself, too, notwithstand-
ing his own buoyant and sanguine tempera
ment, and the natural confidence and hope per-
taining to his years, must have felt many fore-
bodings. But his condition on the Continent
was getting every month more and more desti-
tute and forlorn. He was a mere guest wherev-
er he went, and destitute of means as he was,

1650.] Royal Oak of Boscobel. 139

Charles's tliree kingdoms. Public feeling in ScotlantL

he found himself continually sinking in pnblio
consideration. Money as well as rank is very
essentially necessary to make a relative a wel-
come guest, for any long time, in aristocratic
circles. Charles concluded, therefore, that, all
things considered, it was best for him to make
a desperate eifort to recover his kingdoms.

His kingdoms were three, England, Scotland,
and Ireland. Ireland was a conquered kingdom.
Scotland, like England, had descended to him
from his ancestors ; for his grandfather, James
VI., was king of Scotland, and being on his
mothers side a descendant of an English king,
he was, of course, one of the heirs of the English
crown ; and on the failure of the other heirs, he
succeeded to that crown, retaining still his own
Thus both kingdoms descended to Charles.

It was only the English kingdom that had
really rebelled against, and put to death King
Charles's father. There had been a great deal
of difficulty in Scotland, it is true, and the re-
publican spirit had spread quite extensively in
that country. Still, affairs had not proceeded
to such extremities there. The Scotch had, in
some degree, joined with the English in resisting
Charles the First, but it was not their wish to
throw off the royal authority altogether. They

140 King Charles IL ri650

OemancU of die Scotch. Charles lands in Scotland.

abhorred episcopacy in the Church, but were
well enough contented with monarchy in the
state. Accordingly, soon after the death of the
father, they had opened negotiations with the
son, and had manifested their willingness to
acknowledge him as their king, on certain con-
ditions which they undertook to prescribe to
him. It is very hard for a king to hold his
scepter on conditions prescribed by his people.
Charles tried every possible means to avoid sub-
mitting to this necessity. He found, however,
that the only possible avenue of access to En-
gland was by first getting some sort of posses-
sion of Scotland ; and so, signifying his willing-
ness to comply with the Scotch demands, he set
sail from Holland with his court, moved north
ward with his little squadron over the waters
of the German Ocean, and at length made port
in the Frith of Cromarty, in the north of Scot-
land.

The Scotch government, having but little
faith in the royal word of such a youth as Charles
would not aUow him to land until he had for-
mally signed their covenant, by which he bound
himself to the conditions which they had thought
it necessary to impose. He then landed. But
ae found his situation very far from such as

1650.] Royal Oak of Boscobel. 141

Negotiations and debates. Charles crowned King of Scotland.

comported with his ideas of royal authority and
state. Charles was a gay, dissipated, reckless
young man. The men whom he had to deal
with were stern, sedate, and rigid religionists
They were scandalized at the looseness and ir-
regularity of his character and manners. He
was vexed and tormented by what he consider-
ed their ascetic bigotry, by the restraints which
they were disposed to put upon his conduct, and
the limits with which they insisted on bound-
ing his authority. Long negotiations and de-
bates ensued, each party becoming more and
more irritated against the other. At last, on
one occasion, Charles lost his patience entirely,
and made his escape into the mountains, in hopes
to raise an army there among the clans of wild
Highlanders, who, accustomed from infancy to
the most implicit obedience to their chieftains,
are always very loyal to their king. The Scotch
nobles, however, not wishing to drive him to ex-
tremities, sent for him to come back, and both
parties becoming after this somewhat more con-
siderate and atxjommodating, they at length
came to an agreement, and proceeding togethei
to Scone, a village some miles north of Edin-
burgh, they crowned Charles King of Scotland
in a venerable abbev there, the ancient placf

142 King Charles II. [165a

Cromwell marches against Scutland. Caarles invades England

of coronation for all the monarchs of the Scot-
tish line.

In the mean time, Cromwell, who was at the
head of the republican government of England,
knowing very well that Charles's plan would be
to march into England as soon as he could ma-
ture his arrangements for such an enterprise,
determined to anticipate this design by declar-
ing war himself against Scotland, and marching
an army there.

Charles felt comparatively little interest in
what became of Scotland. His aim was En-
gland. He knew, or supposed that there was
a very large portion of the English people who
secretly favored his cause, and he believed that
if he could once cross the frontier, even with a
small army, these his secret friends would all
rise at once and flock to his standard. Still he
attempted for a time to resist Cromwell in Scot-
land, but without success. CromweU penetrated
to the heart of the country, and actually passed
the army of Charles. In these circumstances,
Charles resolved to leave Scotland to its fate,
and boldly to cross the English frontier, to see
what he could do by raising his standard in his
southern kingdom. The army acceded to this
pkn with acclamations. The king accordingly

1651.] iloYAL Oak of Boscokel 143

Pnblic feeling in England. Cavaliers and Ronndheada

put his forces in motion, crossed the frontier,
issued his manifestoes, and sent around couriers
and heralds, announcing to the whole popula-
tion that their king had come, and summoning
all his subjects to arm themselves and hasten
to his aid. This was in the summer of 1651,
the year after his Ian ling in Scotland.

It certainly was a very bold and almost des-
perate measure, and the reader, whether Mon-
archist or Republican, can hardly help wishing
the young adventurer success. The romantic
enterprise was, however, destined to fail. The
people of England were not yet prepared to re-
turn to royalty. Some few of the ancient noble
families and country gentlemen adhered to the
king's cause, but they came in to join his ranks
very slowly. Those who were in favor of the
king were called Cavaliers. The other party
were called Roundheads. Queen Henrietta
Maria had given them the name, on account
of their manner of wearing their hair, cut short
and close to their heads all around, while the
gay Cavaliers cultivated their locks, which hung
in long curls down upon their shoulders. The
Cavaliers, it turned out, were few, while the
Roundheads filled the land.

It was, however, impossible for Charles to

144 King Charles II. [1651

Cromwell follows Charles. Scenes of confiuion and misery

retreat, since Cromwell was behind him ; for
Cromwell, as soon as he found that his enemy
had actually gone into England, paused only
long enough to recover from his surprise, and
then made all haste to follow him. The two
armies thus moved down through the very heait
of England, carrying every where, as they went,
universal terror, confusion, and dismay. The
whole country was thrown into extreme excite-
ment. Every body was called upon to take
sides, and thousands were perplexed and unde-
cided which side to take. Families were di-
vided, brothers separated, fathers and sons were
ready to fight each other in their insane zeal,
the latter for the Parliament, the former for the
king. The whole country was filled with ru-
mors, messengers, parties of soldiers going to
and fro, and troops of horsemen, with robberies,
plunderings, murders, and other deeds of vio-
lence without number, and all the other ele-
ments of confusion and misery which arouse the
whole population of a country to terror and dis-
tress, and mar the very face of nature in time
jf civil war. What dreadful struggles man
will make to gain the pleasure of ruling his fel-
k)w-man !

Along the frontiers of England and Wales

1651.] KovAL Oak of Boscobel. 147

The River Severn. Situation of WorceBter.

there flows the beautiful River Severn, which
widens majestically at its mouth, and passes
by the Bristol Channel to the sea. One of the
largest towns upon this river is Worcester. It
was in those days strongly fortified. It stands
on the eastern side of the river, with a great
bridge opposite one of the gates leading across
the Severn in the direction toward Wales.
There are other bridges on the stream, both
above and below, and many towns and villages
in the vicinity, the whole presenting, at ordinary
times, a delightful scene of industry and peace
Worcester is, perhaps, three hundred miles
from the frontiers of Scotland, on the way to
London, though somewhat to the westward of
the direct route. Charles's destination was the
capital. He pushed on, notwithstanding the
difficulties and disappointments which embar-
rassed his march, until at last, when he reached
the banks of the Severn, he found he could go
no further. His troops and his officers were
wearied, faint, and discouraged. His hopes had
not been realized, and while it was obviously
dangerous to stop, it seemed still more danger-
ous to go on. However, as the authorities of
Worcester were disposed to take sides with the
king, Charles determined to stop there for a lit

148 King Charles II. [1651.

Charles proclaimed king. Skirmishes with Cromweira forces

tie time, at all events, to refresh his army, and
consider what to do.

He was received in the city with all due hon
ors. He was proclaimed king on the following
day, with great parade and loud acclamations.
He established a camp in the neighborhood of
the city. He issued great proclamations, call-
ing upon all the people of the surrounding coun-
try to come and espouse his cause. He estab-
lished his court, organized his privy council,
and, in a word, perfected, on a somewhat hum-
ble scale it is true, all the arrangements proper
to the condition of a monarch in his capital.
He began, perhaps, in fact, to imagine himself
really a king. If he did so, however, the illu-
sion was soon dispelled. In one short week
Cromwell's army came on, filling aU the ave-
nues of approach to the city, and exhibiting a
force far too great, apparently, either for Charles
to meet in battle, or to defend himself from in
a siege.

Charles's forces fought several preliminary
battles and skirmishes in resisting the attempts
of Cromwell's columns to get possession of the
bridges and fords by which they were to cross
the river. These contests resulted always in
the same way. The detachments which Charles

1651.] RoV^AL Oak of Boscobel. 149

The ^eat battle. Charles defeated

had sent forward to defend these Doints were
one after another driven in, while Charles, with
his council of war around him, watched from
the top of the tower of a church within the city
this gradual and irresistible advance of his de-
termined enemy, with an anxiety which grad-
ually deepened into dismay.

The king, finding his situation now desperate,
determined to make one final attempt to retrieve
his fallen fortunes. He formed his troops in
array, and marched out to give the advancing
army battle. He put himself at the head of a
troop of Highlanders, and fought in person with
the courage and recklessness of despair. The
officers knew full well that it was a question
of victory or death , for if they did not conquer,
they must die, either by wounds on the field of
battle, or else, if taken prisoners, by being hung
as traitors, or beheaded in the Tower. All
possibility of escape, entrapped and surrounded
as they were in the very heart of the country,
hundreds of miles from the frontiers, seemed
utterly hopeless. They fought, therefore, with
reckless and desperate fury, but all was in vain.
They were repulsed and driven in on all sides,
and the soidiers fled a^ length, carrying the of-
ficers with them, in tumult and disorder, back
through the gates into the citv

150 King Charles II. [1651

Charles retreats. He attempts to rally hia forces

An army flying in confusion to seek refuge
in a city can not shut the gates behind them
against their pursuers. In fact, in such a scene
of terror and dismay, there is no order, no obedi-
ence, no composure. At the gate where Charles
endeavored to get back into the city, he found
the way choked up by a heavy ammunition cart
which had been entangled there, one of the oxen
that had been drawing it being killed. The
throngs of men and horsemen were stopped by
this disaster. The king dismounted, abandoned
his horse, and made his way through and over
the obstruction as he could. When he got into
the city, he found all in confusion there. His
men were throwing away their arms, and press-
ing onward in their flight. He lightened his
own burdens by laying aside the heaviest of his
armor, procured another horse, and rode up and
down among his men, urging and entreating
them to form again and face the enemy. He
)lead the justice of his cause, their duty to bo
Taithful to their rightful sovereign, and every
(^her argument which was capable of being ex-
pressed in the shouts and vociferations which,
in such a scene, constitute the only kind of
cjommunication possible with panic-stricken
men : and when he found that all was in vam

1651.] Royal Oak of Boscobel. 153

Hie root Charles escapes from the city

he said, in despair, that he would rather they
would shoot him on the spot than let him live
to witness such an abandonment of his cause
by the only friends and followers that had been
left to him.

The powerful influence which these expostu-
lations would otherwise have had, was lost and
overborne in the torrent of confusion and terroi
which was spreading through all the streets of
the city. The army of Cromwell forced their
passage in, and fought their way from street to
street, wherever they found any remaining re-
sistance. Some of the king's troops were
hemmed up in corners, and cut to pieces. Oth-
ers, somewhat more fortunate, sought protec-
tion in tower.^ and bastions, where they could
make some sort of conditions with their victo-
rious enemy before surrendering. Charles him-
self, finding that all was lost, made his escape
at last from the city, at six o'clock in the even-
ing, at the head of a troop of horse. He could
not, however, endure the thought of giving up
the contest, after all. Again and again, as he
slowly retreated, he stopped to face about, and
to urge his men to consent to turn back again
and encounter the enemy. Their last halt was
upon a bridge half a mile from the city Here

152 King Charles II. [1651

Charles holds a consultation. HI* feDowera

the king hold a consultation with the few re-
maining counselors and officers that were with
him, surveying, with them, the routed and fly-
ing bodies of men, who were now throwing awaj
their arms and dispersing in all directions, in a
state of hopeless disorganization and despair.
The king saw plainly that his cause was irre-
trievably ruined, and they all agreed that noth-
ing now remained for them but to make theii
escape back to Scotland, if by any possibility
that could now be done.

But how should they accomplish this end?
To follow the multitude of defeated soldiers
would be to share the certain capture and death
which awaited them, and they were themselves
all strangers to the country. To go on inquiring
all the way would only expose them to equally
certain discovery and capture. The first thing,
however, obviously was to get away from the
crowd. Charles and his attendants, therefore,
turned aside from the high road — there were
with the king fifty or sixty officers and noble-
men, all mounted men — and moved along in
such secluded by-paths as they could find. The
king wished i diminish even this number of
followers, but he could not get any of them to
leave him. He complained afterward, in the

1651.] Royal Oak of Boscobel. 153

fhe guidei. The party get loit

account which he gave of these adventures,
that, though they would not fight for him when
battle was to be given, he could not get rid of
them when the time came for flight.

There was a servant of one of the gentlemen
in the company who pretended to know the way,
and he accordingly undertook to guide the par-
ty ; but as soon as it became dark he got con-
fused and lost, and did not know what to do.
They contrived, however, to get another guide
They went ten miles, attracting no particular
attention, for at such a time of civil war a coun-
try is full of parties of men, armed and un-
armed, going to and fro, who are allowed gen-
erally to move without molestation, as the in-
habitants are only anxious to have as little as
possible to say to them, that they may the soon-
er be gone. The royal party assumed the air
and manner of one of these bands as long as
daylight lasted, and when that was gone they
went more securely and at their ease. After
proceeding ten miles, they stopped at an ob-
scure inn, where they took some drink and «
little bread, and then resumed their journey,
consulting with one another as they went as
to what it was best to do.

About ten or twelve miles further on there

154 King Charles IL [1651

Situation of BoBcobeL PlaM* of rttago

was a somewhat wild and sequestered region,
in which there were two very secluded dwell-
ings, about half a mile from each other. One
of these residences was named Boscobel. The
name had been given to it by a guest of the pro-
prietor, at an entertainment which the latter
had given, from the Italian words bosco bello,
which mean beautiful grove. It was in or near
a wood, and away from all high roads, having
been built, probably, lilte many other of the
dwellings reared in those days, as a place of re-
treat. In the preceding reigns of Charles and
Elizabeth, the Catholics, who were called po»
pish recusants, on account of their refusing' to
take an oath acknowledging the supremacy of
the British sovereign over the English Church,
had to resort to all possible modes of escape
from Protestant persecution. They built thesft
retreats in retired and secluded places, and
constructed all sorts of concealed and secure
hiding-places within them, in the partitions and
walls, where men whose lives were in danger
might be concealed for many days. Boscobel
was such a mansion. In fact, one of the king's
generals, the Earl of Derby, had been concealed
in it but a short time before. The king in-
^juired particularly about it, and was induced
himself to seek refuse there.

1651.] Royal Oak op Bcscobel. 15b

The White Ladies' Convent The Penderela

This house belonged to a family of GifFards,
one of whom was in the suite of King Charles
at this time. There was another mansion
about half a mile distant. This other place
had been originally, in the Catholic days, a con-
vent, and the nuns who inhabited it dressed in
white. They were called, accordingly, the white
ladies, and the place itself received the same
name, which it retained after the sisters wero
gone. Mr. Giffard recommended going to the
White Ladies' first. He wanted, in fact, to con-
trive some way to relieve the king of the en-
cumbrance of so large a troop before going to
Boscobel.

They went, accordingly, to the White Ladies'.
Neither of the houses was occupied at this time
by the proprietors, but were in charge of house-
keepers and servants. Among the tenants upon
the estate there were several brothers of the
name of Penderel. They were woodmen and
farm servants, living at different places in tho
leighborhood, and having charge, some of them,
of the houses above described. One of the Pen-
derels was at the White Ladies'. He let the
fugitives in, tired, exhausted, and hungry as
they were, with the fatigue of marching nearly
al' the night. They sent immediately for Rich-

156 King Charles U. [1651

Disi{uise of the king. Dispoeal of the lewela.

ard Penderel, who lived in a farm-house near
by, a/id for another brother, who was at Bo^co-
bel. They took the king into an inner room,
and immediately commenced the work of effect-
ually disguising him.

They gave him clothes belonging to some of
the servants of the family, and destroyed his
own. The king had about his person a watch
and some costly decorations, such as orders of
knighthood set in jewels, which would betray
his rank if found in his possession. These the
king distributed among his friends, intrusting
them to the charge of such as he judged most
likely to effect their escape. They then cut off
his hair short aU over, thus making him a
Roundhead instead of a Cavalier. Tlisy rubbed
soot from the fire-place over his face, to change
the expression of his features and complexion.
They gave him thus, in all respects, as nearly
as possible, the guise of a squalid peasant and
laborer of the humblest class, accustomed to
the privations and to the habits of poverty.

In the mean time Richard Penderel arrived.
Perhaps an intimation had been given him of
the wishes of the king to be relieved of his com-
pany of followers ; at any rate, he urged the
whole retinue, as soon as he came to the house

1651.] Royal Oak of Boscobel. 157

Charles separates from his followers. His concealment

to press forward without any delay, as there
was a detachment of Cromwell's forces, he said,
at three miles' distance, who might be expected
at any moment to come in pursuit of them
GifFard brought Penderel then into the inner
room to which the king had retired. " This is
the king," said he. " I commit him to your
charge. Take care of him."

Richard undertook the trust. He told the
king that he must immediately leave that place,
and he conducted him secretly, all disguised as
he was, out of a postern door, without making
known his design to any of his followers, ex-
cept the two or three who were in immediate
attendance upon him. He led him away about
half a mile into a wood, and, concealing him
there, left him alone, saying he would go and
see what intelligence he could obtain, and pres-
ently return again. The troop of followers, in
the mean time, from whom the king had beer
so desirous to get free, when they found that
he was gone, mounted their horses and rode
away, to escape the danger with which Richard
had threatened them. But, alas for the unhap-
py fugitives, they did not get far in their flight;
they were overtaken, attacked, conquered, cap-
tured, and treated as traitor*. Some were shot.

158 KiNft Charles II. [Id51.

The king's forlorn condition. The rain.

one was beheaded, and others were shut up in
prisons, where they pined in hopeless privati(tn
and suffering for many years. There was, how-
ever, one of the king's followers who did not go
away with the rest. It was Lord Wilmot, an
influential nobleman, who concealed himself Id
the vicinity, and kept near the king in all his
subsequent wanderings.

But we must return to the king in the wood.
It was about sunrise when he was left there,
the morning after the battle. It rained. The
king tried in vain to find a shelter under the
trees of the forest. The trees themselves were
soon thoroughly saturated, and they received
the driving rain from the skies only to lee the
water fall in heavier drops upon the poor fugi-
tive's defenseless head. Richard borrowed a
blanket at a cottage near, thinking that it would
afford some protection, and brought it to his
charge. The king folded it up to make a cush-
ion to sit upon ; for, worn out as he was with
liard fighting all the day before, and hard rid-
ing all the night, he could not stand ; so ho
those to use his blanket as a protecUon from
the wet ground beneath him, and to take the
ain upon his head as it fell.

Richard sent a peasant's wife to him present-

1651.] Royal Oak of Boscobel. 159

Woman's fidelity. Weary paitiine

ly with some food. Charles, who never had
any great respect for the female sex, was alarm-
od to find that a woman had been intrusted with
auch a secret. " My good woman," said he,
" can you be faithful to a distressed Cavalier?"
" Yes, sir," said she ; " I will die rather than
betray you," Charles had, in fact, no occasion
to fear. Woman is, indeed, communicative and
confiding, and often, in unguarded hours, reveals
indiscreetly what it would have been better to
have withheld ; but in all cases where real and
important trusts are committed to her keeping,
there is no human fidelity which can be more
safely relied upon than hers.

Charles remained in the wood all the day, ex-
posed to the pelting of the storm. There was
a road in sight, a sort of by-way leading across
the country, and the monarch beguiled the wea-
ry hours as well as he could by watching this
road from under the trees, to see if any soldiers
came along. There was one troop that appear
ed, but it passed directly by, marching heavily
through the mud and rain, the men intent, ap-
parently, only on reaching their journey's end.
When night came on, Richard Penderel return-
ed, approaching cautiously, and, finding all safe,
took the king into the house with him. They

160 King Charles II [165L

The king*! thoughts in the wood. He resolves to escape into WmIba

brought him to the fire, changed and dried hia
clothes, and gave him supper. The hoinelca?
monarch once more enjoyed the luxuries of
warmth and shelter.

During all the day, while he had been alone
in the wood, he had been revolving in his mind
the strange circumstances of his situation, vain-
ly endeavoring, for many hours, to realize what
seemed at first like a dreadful dream. Could
it be really true that he, the monarsh of three
kingdoms, so recently at the head of a victori-
ous army, and surrounded by generals and of-
ficers of state, was now a friendless and solitary
fugitive, without even a place to hide his head
from the cold autumnal storm ? It seemed at
first a dream; but it soon became a reality,
and he began to ponder, in every form, the
question what he should do. He looked east,
west, north, and south, but could not see, in
any quarter, any hope of succor, or any reason-
able prospect of escape. He, however, arrived
at the conclusion, before night came on, that it
would be, on the whole, the best plan for him to
attempt to escape into Wales.

He was very near the frontier of that coun-
try. There was no difficulty to be apprehend-
ed on the road thither, excepting in the cross-

1651.] Royal Oak of Boscobel. 161

Richard enters into the king's plan. They set out ou their Jutimey.

ing of the Severn, which, as has ah-eady been
remarked, flows from north to south not far
from the line of the frontier. He thought, too,
that if he could once succeed in getting into
Wales, he could find secure retreats among the
mountains there until he should be able to
make his way to some sea-port on the coast
trading with France, and so find his way back
across the Channel. He proposed this plan to
Richard in the evening, and asked him to ac-
company him as his guide. Richard readily
consented, and the arrangements for the jour-
ney were made. They adjusted the king's
dress again to complete his disguise, and Rich-
ard gave him a bill-hook — a sort of woodman's
tool — ^to carry in his hand. It was agreed, also,
that his name should be Will Jones so far as
there should be any necessity for designating
him by a name in the progress of the journey.
They set out at nine o'clock that same night,
in the darkness and rain. They wished to gat
to Madely, a town near the river, before the
morning. Richard knew a Mr. Woolf there, a
friend of the Royalist cause, who he thought
would shelter them, and aid them in getting
across the river. They went on very well for
some time, until they came to a stream, a

162 King Charles II. [1651

The miller and the milL The pursuit

branch of the Severn, where there was a bridge,
and on the other side a mill. The miller hap-
pened to be watching that night at his door.
At such times every body is on the alert, sus-
pecting mischief or danger in every unusual
sight or sound. Hearing the footsteps, he call-
ed out, " Who goes there?" " Neighbors," re-
plied Richard. The king was silent. He had
been previously charged by Richard not to
speak, except when it could not possibly bj
avoided, as he had not the accent of the coun-
try. " Stop, then," said the miller, " if you be
neighbors." The travelers only pressed for-
ward the faster for this challenge. " Stop !"
repeated the miller, " if you be neighbors, or I
will knock you down ;" and he ran out in pur-
suit of them, armed apparently with the means
of executing his threat. Richard fled, the king
closely following him. They turned into a lane,
and ran a long distance, the way being in many
places so dark that the king, in following Rich
ard, was guided only by the sound of his foot-
steps, and the creaking of the leather dress
which such peasants were accustomed in those
days to wear. They crept along, however, as
silently, and yet as rapidly as possible, until at
length Richard turned suddenly aside, leaped

1651.] Royal Oak of Boscobel. 163

ArriTal at Mndely. Interview with Mr. Wool£

over a sort of gap in the hedge, and crouched
down in the trench on the other side. Here
they remained for some time, listening to as-
certain whether they were pursued. When
they found that all was still, they crept forth
from their hiding-places, regained the road, and
went on their way.

At length they arrived at the town. Rich-
ard left the king concealed in an obscure cor-
ner of the street, while he went to the house of
Mr. Woolf to see if he could obtain admission.
All was dark and still. He knocked till he had
aroused some of the family, and finally brought
Mr. Woolf to the door.

He told Mr. Woolf that he came to ask shel-
ter for a gentleman who was wishing to get
into Wales, and who could not safely travel by
day. Mr. Woolf hesitated, and began to ask
for further information in respect to the stran-
ger. Richard said that he was an officer who
had made his escape from the battle of Wor-
cester. " Then," said Mr. Woolf, " I should
hazard my life by concealing him, which I
should not be willing to do for any body, un-
less it were the king." Richard then told him
that it was his majesty. On hearing this, Mr.
Woolf decided at once to admit and conceal

164 King Charles II. [165L

Reception at Mr. Wooirs. Ccncealment in the bam

the travelers, and Richard weBt back to bring
the king.

When they arrived at the house, they found
Mr. Woolf making preparations for their recep-
tion. They placed the king by the fire to warm
and dry his clothes, and they gave him such
food as could be provided on so sudden an emerg-
ency. As the morning was now approaching,
it was necessary to adopt some plan of conceal-
ment for the day, and Mr. Woolf decided upon
concealing his guests in his barn. He said that
there were holes and hiding-places built in his
house, but that they had all been discovered on
some previous search, and, in case of any sus-
picion or alarm, the officers would go directly
to them all. He took the travelers, accordingly,
to the barn, and concealed them ther^. among
the hay. He said that he would himself, dur-
ing the day, make inquiries in respect to the
practicability of their going on upon their jour-
ney, and come and report to them in the evening

Accordingly, when the evening came, Mr
Woolf returned, relieved them from their con-
finement, and took them back again to the
house. His report, however, in respect to the
continuance of their journey, was very unfavor-
able. He thought it would be impossible, he

1651.] RovAL Oak of Boscobel. 165

The king advised to return. He acceaea

said, for them to cross the Severn. The Repub-
lican forces had stationed guards at all the bridg-
es, ferries, and fords, and at every other prac
ticable place of crossing, and no one was allow-
ed to pass without a strict examination. The
country was greatly excited, too, w^ith the in-
telligence of the king's escape ; rewards were
offered for his apprehension, and heavy penal-
ties denounced upon all who should harbor or
conceal him. Under these circumstances, Mr,
Woolf recommended that Charles should go
back to Boscobel, and conceal himself as se-
curely as possible there, until some plan could
be devised for effecting his escape from the
country.

The king had no alternative but to accede to
this plan. He waited at Mr. Woolf 's house till
midnight, in order that the movement in the
streets of the town might have time entirely to
subside, and then, disappointed and discouraged
by the failure of his hopes, he prepared to set
out upon his return. Mr. Woolf made some
changes in his disguise, and bathed his faco
in a decoction of walnut leaves, which he had
prepared during the day, to alter his complex-
ion, which was naturally very dark and pecu-
liar, and thus exposed him to danger of di.scov

166 King Charles XL [1651

The return journey. Fording the rlrer.

ery. When all was ready, the twD travelers
bade their kind host farewell, and crept forth
again through the silent streets, to return, by
the way they came, back to Boscobel.

They went on very well till they began to
approach the branch stream where they had met
with their adventure with the miller. They
could not cross this stream by the bridge with-
out going by the mill again, which they were
both afraid to do. The king proposed that they
should go a little way below, and ford the stream.
Richard was afraid to attempt this, as he could
not swim ; and as the night was dark, and the
current rapid, there would be imminent danger
of their getting beyond their depth. Charles
said that he could swim, and that he would, ac-
cordingly, go first and try the water. They
groped their way down, therefore, to the bank,
and Charles, leaving his guide upon the land,
waded in, and soon disappeared from view as
he receded from the shore. He returned, how-
ever, after a short time, in safety, and reported
the passage practicable, as the water was only
three or four feet deep ; so, taking Richard by
the hand, he led him into the stream. It wag
a dismal and dangerous undertaking, wading
thus through a deep and rapid current in dark-

1651.] Royal Oak of Boscobel. 167

Arriyal at BoscobeL The king's exhausted condltloii,

ness and cold, but they succeeded in passing
safely over

They reached Boscobel before the morning
dawned, and Richard, when they arrived, left
the king in the wood while he went toward the
house to reconnoiter, and see if all was safe.
He found within an officer of the king's army,
a certain Colonel Carlis, who had fled from Wor-
cester some time after the king had left the
field, and, being acquainted with the situation
of Boscobel, had sought refuge there ; William
Penderel, who had remained in charge of Bos-
cobel, having received and secreted him when
he arrived.

Richard and William brought Colonel Carlia
out into the wood to see the king. They found
him sitting upon the ground at the foot of a tree,
entirely exhausted. He was worn out with
hardship and fatigue. They took him to the
house. They brought him to the fire, and gave
him some food. The colonel drew off his maj-
esty's heavy peasant shoes and coarse stockings.
They were soaked with water and full of gravel.
The colonel bathed his feet, which were sadly
swollen and blistered, and, as there were no oth-
er shoes in the house which would answer for
him to wear. Dame Penderel warmed and dried

168 King Charles 11. [1651

Colonel Carlis. The oak

those vjhich the colonel had taken off, by filling
them with hot ashes from the fire, and then put
them on again.

The king continued to enjoy such sort of com-
forts as these during the night, but when the
morning di*ew near it became necessary to look
out for some place of concealment. The Pen-
derels thought that no place within the house
would be safe, for there was danger every hour
of the arrival of a band of soldiers, who would
not fail to search the mansion most effectually
in every part. There was the wood near by,
which was very secluded and solitary ; but still
they feared that, in case of a search, the wood
would be explored as effectually as the dwelling.
Under these circumstances, Carlis was looking
around, perplexed and uncertain, not knowing
what to do, when he perceived some scattered
oaks standing by themselves in a field not far
from the house, one of which seemed to be so
full and dense in its foliage as to afford some
hope of concealment there. The tree, it seems,
had been headed down once or twice, and this
pruning had had the effect, usual in such cases,
of making the branches spread and grow very
thick and full. The colonel thought that though.
in making a search for fugitives, men mighl

1651.] Royal Oak of Bobcobel. 171

The king takei fhelter in the oak. Piovisioiu,

very naturally explore a thicket or a grove, thoy
would not probably think of examining a de-
tached and solitary tree ; he proposed, accord-
ingly, that the king and himself should climb
np into this spreading oak, and conceal them-
selves for the day among its branches.

The king consented to this plan. They took
some provisions, therefore, as soon as the day
began to dawn, and something to answer the
purpose of a cushion, and proceeded to the tree.
By the help of William and Richard the king
and the colonel climbed up, and established
themselves in the top. The colonel placed the
cushion for the king on the best support among
the limbs that he could find. The bread and
cheese, and a small bottle of beer, which Rich-
ard and "William had brought for their day's
supplies, they suspended to a branch within
their reach. The colonel then seated himself
a little above the king, in such a manner that
the monarch's head could rest conveniently in
his lap, and in as easy a position as it was possi-
ble, under such circumstances, to attain. Rich-
ard and "William, then, after surveying tho
place of retreat all around from below, in order
to be sure that the concealment afforded by the
foliage was every where complete, went away,
promising to keen faithful watch during the day»

172 King Charles IL [1651

Situation of tlie king in the oak. His sufferinga

and to return in the evening. All things being
thus arranged in the oak, the colonel bade his
majesty to close his eyes and go to sleep, say-
ing that he would take good care that he dia
not fall. The king followed his directions, and
slept safely for many hours.

In the course of the day the king and Carlis
saw, by means of the openings between the
leaves, through which, as through loop-holes in
a tower, they continually reconnoitered the sur-
rounding fields, men passing to and fro, some
of whom they imagined to be soldiers searching
the wood. They were not, however, themselves
molested. They passed the day undisturbed,
except by the incessant anxiety and alarm which
they necessarily suffered, and the fatigue and
pain, which must have become almost intolera-
ble before night, from their constrained and com-
fortless position. Night, however, came at last,
and relieved them from their duress. They de-
scended from the tree and stole back cautiously
to the house, the king resolving that he could
oot bear such hardship another day, and that
they mast, accordingly, find some other hiding-
place for him on the morrow. We can scarcely
be surprised a t this decision. A wild beast could
hardly have endured a second day in such a lair

Other plans of concealment for the king were

1651.J Royal Oak of Boscobel. 173

Fame of the Royal Oak. Measures for its protection.

accordingly formed that night, and measures
were soon concerted, as we shall see in the next
chapter, to effect his escape from the country.
The old tree, however, which had sheltered him
80 safely, was not forgotten. In after years,
wiien the monarch was restored to his throne,
and the story of his dangers and his escape was
made known throughout the kingdom, thousands
of visitors came to look upon the faithful tree
which had thus afforded his majesty its un-
conscious-but effectual protection. Every one
took away a leaf or a sprig for a souvenir, and
when, at last, the proprietor found that there
was danger that the whole tree would be car-
ried away unless, he interposed, he fenced it in
and tilled the ground around it, to defend it
from further mutilation. It has borne the name
of the Royal Oak from that time to the present
day, and has been the theme of narrators and
poets without number, who have celebrated its
praises in every conceivable form of composi-
tion. There is, however, probably no one of
them all who has done more for the wide ex-
tension of its fame among all the ranks and gra*
iations of society than the unknown author of
the humble distich,

" The royal oak, it was the tree,
That saved his royal majesty."

174 KiNft Charles II. [1651

fhe Ung In tbs buose of BowobeL New place of concealment

Phapter VIII.

The King's Escape to France

XTTTHEN the king and Carlis came into the
" " house again, on the evening after their
wearisome day's confinement in the tree, Dame
Penderel had some chickens prepared for his
majesty's supper, which he enjoyed as a great
and unexpected luxury. They showed him,
too, the hiding hole, built in the walls, where
the Earl of Derby had been concealed, and
where they proposed that he should be lodged
for the night. There was room in it to lay
down a small straw pallet for a bed. The king
thought it would be very secure, and was con-
firmed in his determination not to go again to
the oak. Before his majesty retired, Carlis
asked him what he would like to have to eat
on the morrow. He said that he should like
some mutton. Carlis assented, and, bidding his
master good night, he left him to his repose.

There was no mutton in the house, and Rich,
ard and William both agreed that it would be
unsafe for either of them to procure any, since,

.651.] Escape to France. 17d

The stolen nratton. The little gallerj

as they were not accustomed to purchase such
food, their doing so now would awaken suspi-
cion that#they had some unusual guest to pro-
vide for. The colonel, accordingly, undertook
himself to obtain the supply.

Getting the necessary directions, therefore,
from Richard and William, he went to the
house of a farmer at some little distance — a
tenant, he was, on the Boscobel estate — and
groped his way to the sheep-cote. He selected
an animal, such as he thought suitable for his
purpose, and butchered it with his dagger. He
then went back to the house, and sent William
Penderel to bring the plunder home. William
dressed a leg of the mutton, and sent it in the
morning into the room which they had assign-
ed to the king, near his hiding hole. The king
was overjoyed at the prospect of this feast
He called for a carving-knife and a frying-pan
He cut off some callops from the joint, and then ,
after frying the meat with Carlis's assistance,
they ate it together.

The king, becoming now somewhat accus-
tomed to his situation, began to grow a little
more bold. He walked in a little gallery which
opened from his room. There was a window
in this gallery which commanded a view of the

176 King Charles IL [1651

Tho king's devotions. The arbor in the garden.

road. The long kept watcli carefully at this
window, as he walked to and fro, that he might
observe the first appearance of any enemy's ap-
proach. It was observed, too, that he appar-
ently spent some time here in exercises of de-
votion, imploring, probably, the protection of
Heaven, in this his hour of danger and distress.
The vows and promises which he doubtless
made were, however, all forgotten, as usual in
such cases, when safety and prosperity came
again.

There was a little garden, too, near the house,
with an eminence at the further end of it, where
there was an arbor, with a stone table, and seats
about it. It was retired, and yet, being in an
elevated position, it answered, like the window
of the gallery in the house, the double purpose
of a hiding-place and a watch-tower. It was
far more comfortable, and probably much more
safe, than the wretched nest in the tree of the
day before ; for, were the king discovered in
the arbor, there would be some chances of es-
cape from detection still remaining, but to have
been found in the tree would have been certain
destruction.

In the mean time, the Penderels had had mes-
sengers out dviring the Saturday and Sunday,

1651.] Est7APE TO France 177

Plan for the king's escape. Mrs. Lane

communicating with certain known friends of
the king in the neighboring towns, and endeav.
oring to concert some plan for his escape. They
were successful in these consultations, and be-
fore Sunday night a plan was formed. It seems
there was a certain Colonel Lane, whose wife
had obtained a pass from the authorities of the
Republican army to go to Bristol, on the occa-
sion of the sickness of a relative, and to take
with her a man-servant. Bristol was a hun-
dred miles to the southward, near the mouth
of the Severn. It was thought that if the king
should reach this place, he could, perhaps, suc-
ceed afterward in making his way to the south-
ern coast of England, and embarking there, at
some sea-port, for France. The plan was ao-
oordingly formed for Mrs. Lane to go, as she
nad designed, on this journey, and to take the
king along with her in the guise of her serv-
ant. The arrangements were all made, and
the king was to be met in a wood five or six
miles from Boscobel, early on Monday morning,
by some trusty friends, who were afterward to
conceal him for a time in their houses, until
all things should be ready for the journey.

The king found, however, when the morning
approached, that his feet were in such a oondi
M

178 King Charles II. [1651

A dark and atormy night The Pendereli bid the king farewell

tion that he could not walic. They according-
ly procured a horse belonging to one of the Pen-
derels, and put him upon it. The brothers all
accompanied him as he went away. They were
armed with concealed weapons, intending, if
they were attacked by any small party, to de-
fend the king with their lives. They, howev-
er, went on without any molestation. It was
a dark and rainy night. Nights are seldom oth-
erwise in England in September. The broth-
ers Penderel, six of them in all, guided the king
along through the darkness and rain, until they
were within a mile or two of the appointed place
of meeting, where the king dismounted, for the
purpose of walking the rest of way, for greater
safety, and three of the brothers, taking the
horse with them, returned. The rest went on,
and, after delivering the king safely into the
hands of his friends, who were waiting at the
appointed place to receive him, bade his majes-
ty farewell, and, expressing their good wishes
for the safe accomplishment of his escape, they
returned to Boscobel.

They now altered the king's disguise in some
degree, to accommodate the change in his as-
sumed character from that of a peasant of the
woods to a respectable farmer's son, such as

1651.] Escape tj France. 179

The king's disgiiise. He sets out on bis Journey

would be a suitable traveling attendant for an
English darae, and they gave him the new
name of "William Jackson in the place of Will
Jones. Mrs. Lane's sister's husband was to go
with them a part of the way, and there was
another gentleman and lady also of the party,
so they were five in all. The horses were
brought to the door when all was ready, just in
the edge of the evening, the pretended attend-
ant standing respectfully by, with his hat un-
der his arm. He was to ride upon the same
horse with Mrs. Lane, the lady being seated on
a pUlion behind him. The family assembled
to bid the party farewell, none, either of the
travelers or of the spectators, except Mrs. Lane
and her brother-in-law, having any idea that
the meek-looking William Jackson was any
other than what he seemed.

They traveled on day after day, meeting with
various adventures, and apparently with narrow
escapes. At one time a shoe was off from the
horse's foot, and the king stopped at a black-
smith's to have it replaced. While the smith
was busy at the work, the king, standing by,
asked him what news. "No news," said the
smith, " that I know of, since the grand news
of beating tli*^ rogues, the Scots, at Worcester ''

180 King Charles II. [1651

The incident at the blacksmith's. Winding np the Jaok

The king asked if any of the English officers
who were with the Scots had been taken since
the battle. " Some had been captured," the
smith replied, "but he could not learn that the
rogue Charles Stuart had been taken." The
king then told him that if that rogue were tak-
en, he deserved to be hanged more than all the
rest, for bringing the Scots in. "You speak
like an honest man," said the smith. Soon aft-
er, the work was done, and Charles led the horse
away.

At another time, when the party had stopped
tor the night, the king, in accordance with his
assumed character, went to the kitchen. They
were roasting some meat with a jack, a ma-
chine used much in those days to keep meat,
while roasting, in slow rotation before the fire.
The jack had run down. They asked the pre-
tended William Jackson to wind it up. In try-
ing to do it, he attempted to wind it the wrong
way. The cook, in ridiculing his awkwardness,
asked him what country he came from, that he
did not know how to wind up a jack. The king
meekly replied that he was the son of a poor
tenant of Colonel Lane's, and that they seldom
had meat to roast at home, and that, when they
had it, they did not roast it with a jack.

1651 J Escape to France. I8l

The king arrives at Leigh. Old Pope the bntler.

The party at length arrived safely at thefc
place of destination, which was at the house of
a Mrs. Norton, at a place called Leigh, about
three miles from Bristol. Here +he whole par-
ty were received, and, in order to seclude the
king as much as possible from observation, Mrs.
Lane pretended that he was in very feeble
health, and he was, accordingly, a good deal
confined to his room. The disease which they
selected for him was an intermittent fever,
which came on only at intervals. This would
account for his being sometimes apparently pret-
ty well, and allowed him occasionally, when
tired of being shut up in his room, to come down
and join the other servants, and hear their con-
versation.

There was an old servant of the family, named
Pope, a butler, to whose care the pretended Will-
iam Jackson was specially confided. On the
following morning after his arrival, Charles,
feeling, notwithstanding his fever, a good appe-
tite after the fatigues of his journey, went down
to get his breakfast, and, while there, some men
3ftme in, friends of the servants, and Pope
brought out a luncheon of bread and ale, and
placed it before them. While they were eat-
ing it, they began to talk about the battle o/

182 King Charles II. [1651

The king U discovered. Colonel AVyndham,

Worcester, and one of the men described it so
accurately, that the king perceived that he must
have been there. On questioning lim more par*
ticularly, the man said that he wis a soldier in
the king's army, and he began to describe the
person and appearance of the king. Charlea
was alarmed, and very soon rose and went away.
Pope, who had had, it seems, his suspicions be-
fore, was now confirmed in them. He went to
Mrs. Lane, and told her that he knew very well
that their stranger guest was the king. She
denied most positively that it was so, but she
immediately took measures to communicate the
conversation to Charles. The result of their
consultations, and of their inquiries about the
character of Pope for prudence and fidelity, was
to admit him to their confidence, and endeavor
to secure his aid. He was faithful in keeping
the secret, and he rendered the king afterward
a great deal of very efficient aid.

There was a certain Colonel Wyndham,
whose name has become immortalized by hia
connection with the king's escape, who lived at
a place called Trent, not far from the southern
coast of England. After much deliberation and
many inquiries, it was decided that the king
should proceed there while arrangements should

1651.] Escape to France. 183

The king goes to Colonel Wyndham's. Wanderinge of Lord Wllmot

be made for his embarkation. When this plan
was formed, Mrs. Lane received a pretended
letter from home, saying that her father was
taken suddenly and dangerously sick, and urg-
ing her immediate return. They set out ac-
sordingly, William having so far recovered from
his fever as to be able to travel again !

During all this time, Lord Wilmot, who has
already been mentioned as a fellow-fugitive
with Charles from the battle of Worcester, had
followed the party of the king in his progress
through the country, under various disguises,
and by different modes of travel, keeping near
his royal master all the way, and obtaining
stolen interviews with him, from time to time,
for consultation. In this way each rendered
the other very essential aid. The two friends
arrived at last at Colonel Wyndham's together.
Mrs. Lane and her party here took leave of the
king, and returned northward toward her home

Colonel Wyndham was a personal acquaint*
ance of the king. He had been an officer un-
der Charles I., in the civil wars preceding that
monarch's captivity and death, and Charles,
who, as Prince of Wales, had made a campaign
as will be recollected, in the west of England,
before he went to France, had had frequent in-

184 King Charles II. [1651

The king's cordial reception. Plan for conveying him to France

tercourse with Wyndham, and had great confi
dence in his fidelity. The colonel had been at
last shut up in a castle, and had finally surren-
dered on such conditions as secured his own lib-
erty and safety. He had, consequently, since
been allowed to live quietly at his own estate
in Trent, though he was watched and suspect-
ed by the government as a known friend of the
king's. Charles had, of course, great confidence
in him. He was very cordially received into
his house, and very securely secreted there.

It would be dangerous for Wyndham him-
self to do any thing openly in respect to find-
ing a vessel to convey the king to France. He
accordingly engaged a trusty friend to go down
to the sea-port on the coast which was nearest
to his residence, and see what he could do.
This sea-port was Lyme, or Lyme-Regis, as it
is sometimes called. It was about twenty-five
miles from Trent, where Wyndham resided,
toward the southwest, and about the same dis-
tance to the eastward of Exeter, where Charles's
mother had some years before sought refuge
from her husband's enemies.

Colonel Wyndham's messenger went to
Lyme. He found there, pretty soon, the mas-
ter of a small vessel, which was accustomed to

1651.] Escape to France. 185

Proposal of Wyndham's messenger. The captain agreei to it

ply back and forth to one of the ports on the
coast of France, to carry merchandise. The
messenger, after making inquiries, and finding
that the captain, if captain he may be called,
was the right sort of man for such an enter-
prise, obtained an interview with him, and in-
troduced conversation by asking when he ex-
pected to go back to France. The captain re-
plied that it would probably be some time be-
fore he should be able to make up another car-
go. " How should you like to take some pas-
sengers ?" said the messenger. " Passengers ?"
inquired the captain. " Yes," rejoined the oth-
er; "there are two gentlemen here who wish
to cross the Channel privately, and they are
willing to pay fifty pounds to be landed at any
port on the other side. Will you take them ?"
The captain perceived that it was a serious
business. There was a proclamation out, of-
fering a reward for the apprehension of the king;
or Charles Stuart as they called him, and also
for other of the leaders at the battle of Worces-
ter. All persons, too, were strictly prohibited
from taking any one across the Channel ; and
to conceal the king, or to connive in any way
at his escape, was death. The captain, howev-
er, at length agreed to the proposal, infiuenced

186 King Charles II. [1651

AiraDgementa for croislng the Channel Prospect of inccew

as the colonel's messenger supposed, partly by
the amount of his pay, and partly by his inter-
est in the Royal cause. He agreed to make
his little vessel ready without delay.

They did not think it prudent for the king to
attempt to embark at Lyme, but there was, a
few miles to the eastward of it, along the shore,
a small village named Charmouth, where there
was a creek jutting up from the sea, and a lit-
tle pier, sufficient for the landing of so small a
vessel as the one they had engaged. It was-
agreed that, on an appointed day, the king and
Lord Wilmot were to come down to Charmouth,
and take up their lodgings at the inn ; that in
the night the captain was to sad out of the port
of Lyme, in the most private manner possible,
and come to Charmouth ; and that the king
and Wilmot, who would, in the mean time, be
watching from the inn, when they saw the light
of the approaching vessel, should come down to
the pier and embark, and the captain then im-
mediately sail away.

The messenger accordingly went back to Col
onel Wyndham's with intelligence of the plan
that he had formed, while the captain of the
vessel went to work as privately as possible to
lay in his stores and make his other prepara*

1651.J Escape to France. 187

The captain'! wife. Her sugpicii>iu

tions for sea. He did this with the utmost pre-
eaution and secrecy, and succeeded in deceiv-
ing every body but his wife. Wives have the
opportunity to perceive indications of the con-
cealed existence of matters of moment and
weight which others do not enjoy, in studying
the countenances of their husbands. A man can
easily, through the day, when surrounded by
the world, assume an unconcerned and careless
air, though oppressed with a very considerable
mental burden ; but when he comes home at
night, he instinctively throws off half his dis-
guise, and conjugal watchfulness and solicitude
easily penetrate the remainder. At least it
was so in this case. The captain's dame per-
ceived that her husband was thoughtful and ab-
sent-minded. She watched him. She observ-
ed some indications that he was making prep-
arations for sea. She asked him what it meant.
He said he did not know how soon he might
have a cargo, and he wanted to be all ready in
season. His wife, however, was not satisfied
She watched him more closely still, and wheu
the appointed night came on which he hac'
agreed to sail, finding that it was impossible foi
him to elude her vigilance, he told her plainly
that he was going across the Channel on private

188 King Charles II. II66I

Btrenuoiu opposition of the captain's wife. The plan &Ui

business, but that he should immediately re
turn.

She declared positively that he should not go
She knew, she said, that the business was some-
thing which would end in ruining him and his
family, and she was determined that he should
not risk her safety and his own life in any such
desperate and treasonable plans. She looked
the door upon him, and when he insisted on
being released, she declared that if he did at-
tempt to go, she would immediately give warn-
ing to the authorities, and have him arrested
and confined. So the discomfited captain was
compelled to give up his design, and break his
appointment at the Charmouth pier.

In the mean time, the king and Lord Wil-
mot came down, as had been agreed upon, to
Charmouth, and put up, with many other trav-
elers, at the inn. There was great excitement
all over that part of the country, every one talk-
ing about the battle of Worcester, the escape
of the king, and especially about an expedition
which Cromwell had been organizing, which
was then assembling on the southern coast.
Its destination was the island of Jersey, which
had thus far adhered to the Royalist cause, and
which Cromwell was now intending to reduce

1651.J Escape to France. 189

Ths ftigltlTei in great danger. Their disappointment

to subjection to him. The bustle and move-
ment which all these causes combined to cre-
ate, made the king and Lord Wilmot very anx
ious and uneasy. There were assemblies con
vened in the villages which they passed through,
and men were haranguing the populace on the
victories which had been gained, and on the fu-
ture measures to be pursued. In one place the
bells were ringing, and bonfires were burning in
celebration of the death of the king, it being
rumored and believed that he had been shot.

Our two fugitives, however, arrived safely at
the inn, put up thieir horses, and began to watch
anxiously for the light of the approaching vessel.
They watched, of course, in vain. Midnight
came, but no vessel. They waited hour after
hour, till at last morning dawned, and they
found that all hope of accomplishing their en-
terprise must be abandoned. They could not
remain where they were, however, another day,
without suspicion; so they prepared to move
on and seek temporary refuge in some other
neighboring town, while they could send one of
the attendants who came with them back to
Colonel Wyndham's, to see if he could ascer-
tain the cause of the failure. One or two daya
were spent 'm inquiries, negotiations, and de-

190 King Chakles II [1651

Mairow e«c«pe of the fugitiTe*. The four horie-ihoe*

lays. The result was, that all hope of embark-
ing at Lyme had to be abandoned, and it was
ooncluded that the fugitives should proceed on
to the eastward, along the coast, to the care of
another Royalist, a certain Colonel Gunter, who
might perhaps find means to send them away
from some port in that part of the country. At
any rate, they would, by this plan, escape the
excitements and dangers which seemed to en-
viron them in the neighborhood of Lyme.

It was fortunate that they went away from
Charmouth when they did ; by doing so they
narrowly escaped apprehension ; for that night,
while the king's horse was in the stable, a smith
was sent for to set a shoe upon the horse of one
of the other travelers. After finishing his work,
he began to examine the feet of the other horses
in the stalls, and when he came to the one which
the king had rode, his attention was particularly
attracted to the condition and appearance of the
fihoee, and he remarked to those who were with
him that that horse had come a long journey,
and that of the four shoes, he would warrant
that no two had been made in the same county.
This remark was quoted the next day, and
the mysterious circumstance, trifling as it was,
was sufficient, in the highly excitable state of

1651.] Escape to France. 191

The fugitives wrrive at Shoreham. Colonel Gunter's pits

the public mind, to awaken attention. People
name to see the horse, and to inquire for the own-
er, but they found that both had disappeared,
rhey immediately determined that the stranger
must have been the king, or at least some distin-
guished persowftge in disguise, and they sent in
search of the party in every direction ; but the
travelers had taken such effectual precautions
to blind all pursuit that their track could not
be followed.

In the mean time, the king journeyed secret-
ly on from the residence of one faithful adherent
to another, encountering many perplexities, and
escaping narrowly many dangers, until he came
at last to the neighborhood of Shoreham, a town
opon the coast of Sussex. Colonel Gunter had
provided a vessel here. It was a small vessel,
bound, with a load of coal, along the coast, to
the westward, to a port called Pool, beyond the
Isle of Wight. Colonel Gunter had arranged
it with the master to deviate from his voyage,
b_, crossing over to the coast of France, and
leaving his passengers there. He was then to
return, and proceed to his original destination.
Both the owner of the vessel and the mastei
who commanded it were Royalists, bat they
had not been told that it was the king whom

192 King Charles II. [1651

The king recognized. The fagidTes embaork

they were going to convey. In the bargain
which had been made with them, the passen-
gers had been designated simply as two gentle-
men of rank who had escaped from the battle
of Worcester. When, however, the master of
the vessel saw the king, he immediately recog-
nized him, having seen him before in his cam-
paigns under his father. This, however, seem-
ed to make no difference in his readiness to
convey the passengers away. He said that he
was perfectly willing to risk his life to save that
of his sovereign, and the arrangements for the
embarkation proceeded.

The little vessel — its burden was about sixty
tons — was brought into a small cove at Bright-
helmstone, a few miles to the eastward from
Shoreham, and run upon the beach, where it
was left stranded when the tide went down.
The king and Lord Wilmot went to it by
night, ascended its side by a ladder, went dowr
immediately into the cabin, and concealed them »
selves there. When the rising tide had lifted
the vessel, with its precious burden, gently from
the sand, the master made easy sail, and coast-
ed along the English shore toward the Isle of
Wight, which was the direction of the voyage
which he had originally intended to make. He

1651.J Escape to France. 193

t»le of Wight Proposal of the master of the ihlp.

did not wish the people at Shoreham io observe
any alteration of his course, since that might
have awakened suspicion, and possibly invited
pursuit ; so they went on for a time to the west-
ward, which was a course that rather increased
than diminished their distance from their place
of destination.

It was seven o'clock in the morning when
they sailed. There was a gentle October breeze
from the north, which carried them slowly along
the shore, and in the afternoon the Isle of Wight
came fully into view. There were four men
and a boy on board the ship, constituting tne
crew. The master came to the king in the
cabin, and proposed to him, as a measure of
additional security, and to ])revent the possibil-
ity of any opposition on the part of the sailor?
to the proposed change in their course which it
would now soon be necessary to make, that the
king and Lord Wilmot should propose the plan
of going to France to them, asking their inter-
est with the captain in obtaining his consent, as
It had not yet been mentioned to the captain at
aU ; for the sailors had of course understood that
ttie voyage was only the usual coastwise trip to
tne port of Pool, and that these strangers were
ordinary travelers, going on that voyage. The
N

194 King Charles II. [1651

Plan for gaining over tlie aailors. Its sncces*

masterj therefore, thought that there would be
less danger of difficulty if the king were first
to gain the sailors over himself, by promises or
rewards, and then all come together to gain the
captain's consent, which could then, at last,
with apparent reluctance, be accorded.

This plan was pursued. The two travelers
went to the sailors upon the forecastle, and told
them, with an air of honest confidence, that
they were not what they seemed. They were
merchants, they said, and were unfortunately
a little in debt, and under the necessity of leav-
ing England for a time. They had some mon-
ey due to them in Rouen, in France, and they
wanted very much to be taken across the Chan
nel to Dieppe, or some port near Rouen. They
made known their condition to the sailors, they
said, because they wanted their intercession
with the captain to take them over, and they
gave the sailors a good generous present in
money for them to spend in drink ; not so gen-
erous, however, as to cast suspicion upon theii
story of being traders In distress.

Sailors are easily persuaded by arguments
that are enforced by small presents of money.
They consented to the plan, and then the king
and Tiord Wilmot went to exoress their wishesi

1651.] Escape to France. 195

Approach to the French coast An alan&

to the captain. He made many objections. It
would delay him on his voyage, and lead to
many inconveniences. The passengers, how-
ever, urged their request, the sailors seconding
them. The wind was fair, and they could eas-
ily run across the Channel, and then, after they
landed, the captain could pursue his course to
the place of his destination. The captain final-
ly consented ; the helm was altered, the sails
were trimmed, and the little vessel bore away
toward its new destination on the coast of
France.

It was now five o'clock in the afternoon.
The English coast soon disappeared from the
horizon, and the next morning, at daylight,
they could see the French shore. They ap-
proached the land at a little port called Fecamp
The wind, however, failed them before they got
quite to the land, and they had to anchor to
wait for a turn of the tide to help them in. In
this situation, they were soon very much alarm-
ed by the appearance of a vessel in the offing,
which was coming also toward the shore
They thought it was a Spanish privateer, and
its appearance brought a double apprehension.
There was danger that the privateer would cap-
ture them, France and Spain being then at

196 King Charles II. [1651

1 consultation. The fugitives landed safely on the French shorei

war. There was danger, also, that the master
of their vessel, afraid himself of being captured,
might insist on making all haste back again to
the English coast ; for the wind, though con-
trary so long as they wished to go on into their
harbor, was fair for taking them away. The
king and Lord Wilmot consulted together, and
came to the conclusion to go ashore in the lit-
tle boat. They soon made a bargain with the
sailors to row them, and, hastily descending the
vessel's side, they entered the boat, and pushed
off over the rolling surges of the Channel.

They were two miles from the shore, but
they reached it in safety. The sailors went
back to the vessel. The privateer turned out
to be a harmless trader coming into port. The
English vessel recrossed the Channel, and went
on to its original port of destination ; and Lord
Wilmot and the king, relieved now of all their
anxieties and fears, walked in their strange En-
giish dress up into the village to the inn.

1651.1 The Restoration. 197

Interest felt in Charles's wanderings. New dangsis.

Chapter IX.

The Restoration.

4 S the readers of a tale are generally in-
■^^ clined to sympathize with the hero of it,
both in his joys and in his sorrows, whether he
is deserving of sympathy or not, they who fol-
low the adventures of Charles in his wanderings
in England after the unfortunate battle of Wor-
cester, feel ordinarily quite a strong sensation
of pleasure at finding him at last safely landed
on the French shore. Charles himself doubt-
less experienced at first an overwhelming emo-
tion of exultation and joy at having thus saved
himself from the desperate dangers of his con-
dition in England. On cool reflection, howev-
er, he soon perceived that there was but little
cause for rejoicing in his condition and pros-
pects. There were dangers and sufferings
enough still before him, different, it is true,
from those in which he had been involved, but
still very dark and threatening in character.
He had now, in fact, ten years of privation,
poverty, and exile before him, full of troubles
from beginning to end.

198 King Charles II. [1651

The king goes to Paris. His reception then

The new series of troubles began to come
upon him, too, very soon. When he and his
cy)mpanion went up to the inn, on the morning
of their landing, dressed as they were in the
^ise of Englishmen of humble rank, and hav
ing been put ashore, too, from a vessel which
immediately afterward sailed away, they were
taken for English thieves, or fugitives from jus-
tice, and refused admission to the inn. They
sent to some gentlemen of the neighborhood, to
whom they made themselves known, so that
this difficulty was removed, their urgent wanta
were supplied, and they were provided with the
means of transportation to Paris. Of course,
the mother of the fugitive monarch, yet almost
a boy, was rejoiced to welcome him, but he re-
ceived no very cordial welcome from any one
else. Now that Charles had finally abandoned
England, his adherents there gave up his cause,
of course, as totally lost. The Republicans,
with Cromwell at their head, established a very
firm and efficient government, which the na-
tions of the Continent soon began to find that
it would be incumbent on them to respect. For
any foreign court to harbor a pretender to the
British crown, when there was an established
government in England based on a determiua-

1651.] The Restoration. 199

The king renews his attentions to Anne Maria. Stie digmisees hia suit

tion of the people to abrogate royalty altogeth-
er, was to incur very considerable political ('an-
ger. Charles soon found that, under these cir-
cumstances, he was not likely to be long a very
welcome guest in the French palaces.

He remained, however, in Paris for a short
time, endeavoring to find some way to retrieve
his ruined fortunes. Anne Maria was still
there, and he attempted to renew his suit to
her. She listened to the entertaining stories
which he told of his dangers and escapes in En-
gland, and for a time, as Charles thought, en-
couraged his attentions. In fact, at one time
he really believed that the affair was all settled,
and began to assume that it was so in speaking
with her upon the subject. She, however, at
.ength undeceived him, in a conversation which
ended with her saying that she thought he had
better go back to England, and "either get his
head broken, or else have a crown upon it,''
The fact was, that Anne Maria was now full
of a new scheme for being married to Louis
XrV. himself, who, though much younger than
she, had attained now to a marriageable age,
and she had no intention of regarding Charles
in any other light than as one of the ordinary
crowd of her admirers. She finally extinguish*

2UU King Charles II. [1655.

Cbarlee disagrees with his mother. He goes to HallAnd.

ed all his hopes by coolly requesting him not to
visit her so frequently.

In addition to his other sources of discomfort,
Charles disagreed with his mother. She was a
very decided Catholic, and he a Protestant,
from policy it is true, and not principle, but he
was none the less rigid and inflexible on that
account. He and his mother disagreed in re-
spect to the education of the younger children.
They were both restricted in their means, too,
and subject to a thousand mortifications from
this cause, in the proud and haughty circle in
which they moved. Finally, the king decided
to leave Paris altogether, and try to find a more
comfortable refuge in Holland.

His sister and her husband, the Prince of
Orange, had always treated him, as well as all
the rest of the family, with great kindness and
attention ; but now, to complete the catalogue
of his disasters, the Prince of Orange died, the
power of the government passed into other hands,
and Mary found herself deprived of influenco
and honor, and reduced all at once to a private
station. She would have been glad to continue
her protection to her brother, but the new gov
ernment feared the power of Cromwell. Crom
well sent word to them that E no land woulrl

1655.] The Restoration. 20]

Charlee retires to Cologne. Usurpation of CromwelA

consider their harboring of the fugitive as tan.
tamount to a declaration of war ; so they noti-
fied Charles that he must leave their dominions,
and find, if he could, some other place of retreat.
He went up the Rhine to the city of Cologne,
where it is said he found a widow woman, who
received him as a lodger without pay, trusting
to his promise to recompense her at some future
time. There is generally little risk in giving
credit to European monarchs, expelled by the
temporary triumph of Republicanism from their
native realms. They are generally pretty cer-
tain of being sooner or later restored to their
thrones.

At any rate, Charles was restored, and his
restoration was effected in a manner wholly un-
expected to all mankind. In order that the cir-
cumstances may be clearly understood, the read-
er must recall it to mind tliat Charles the First
had been deposed and beheaded by the action of
a Parliament, and that this Parliament was,
of course, at his death the depository of sover-
eign power in England. In a short time, how-
ever, the army, with Cromwell at its head, be-
came too strong for the Parliament. Cromwell
assumed the supreme power under the name
of thf Protector. He dissolved Parliament, and

202 King Charles IL [1655

Deposition of Richard Cromwell. Violence of Lambert

expelled the members from their seats. He gov-
erned the country as protector for many years,
and when at length he died, his son Richard
(^romwel: attempted to take his place. Rich-
ard did not, however, possess the talent and en-
ergy of his father, and he soon found himself
totally inadequate to manage the affairs of gov-
ernment in such stormy times. He was de-
posed, and the old Parliament which Cromwell
had broken up was restored.

There followed, then, a new contest between
the Parliament and the army, with an officer
named Lambert at the head of the latter. The
army proved the strongest. Lambert stationed
guards in the streets leading to the Parliament
House one day when the members were about
to assemble, and turned the members all back
as they came. When the speaker arrived in
his carriage, he ordered his soldiers to take hold
of the horses' heads and turn them round, and
lead them home again. Thus there was no ac-
tual outward violence, but the members of Par-
liament were intimidated, and gave up the at-
tempt to exercise their power, though they still
reserved their claim, and their party was busy
all over the kinglom in attempting to restore
them to their functions. In the mean time, the

1655.] The Restoration. 203

iffalrs in England. No true republic thftr*

army appointed a sort of council, which they
invested with supreme authority.

It does not come within the scope and design
of this volume to give a full account of the state
of public affairs during the interregnum between
the death of Charles I. and the Restoration of
the monarchy under Charles II., nor of the
points of controversy at issue among the vari-
ous parties formed. The reader, however, must
not suppose that, during this period, there was
at any time what could, with any propriety, be
called a republic. A true republic exists only
where the questions of government are fairly
and honorably submitted to the whole popula-
tion, with a universal disposition to acquiesce
peaceably in the decision of the majority, when
that is ascertained. There probably has never
been any such state of things as this in any
country of Europe since the Christian era.
There certainly was no such state of things in
England in the time of the Commonwealth.
There were a great many persons who wished
to have it so, and who called themselves Re-
publicans ; but their plan, if that were indeed
their plan, was never tried. Very likely it waa
not practicable to try it. At any rate, it cer-
tainly was not tried The sovereignty taken

204 King Charles II. [1655

The Piurllament The army. Cromwell

from the Stuart dynasty in the person of Charles
I. was never vested in the people at large. It
was seized forcibly by the various powers al-
ready existing in the state, as they found them-
selves, one after another, able to seize it. Tho
Parliament took it from Charles. The armj
took it from Parliament. Then Oliver Crom-
well took it from the army. He found himself
strong enough to hold it as long as he lived,
and when he died he delivered it to his son
Richard. Richard could not hold it. The Par-
liament rose to a sort of supplementary exist-
ence, and took it from Richard, and then the
army took it from Parliament again. Finally,
General Monk appeared upon the stage in Scot-
land, as we shall presently see, marched down
through England, and, with the help of thou-
sands and thousands who were tired of these
endless changes, took it from the army and re-
stored it once more to the Parliament, on con-
dition of their placing it back again in the hands
of the king. Thus there was no republic at all,
fr jm beginning to end.

Nor is it at all certain that there ought to
have been. The difficulties of really, truly, and
honestly laying the national sovereignty in the
hands of the whole population of such a realm

L655.] The Restoration. 205

Great difficiilties in the way of organizing a republia

as England, and of so organizing the population
that its decisions shall actually control the legis-
lation of the country and the public admhiistra-
tion of its affairs, are all but insuperable. The
Enelish people found the tyranny and oppres-
sion of royalty intolerable. They arose and set
royalty aside. It devolved, then, on the next
strongest power in the state to assume the au-
thority thus divested ; this v^as the Parliament,
who governed, just as the king had done, by
the exercise of their own superior power, keep-
ing the mass of the community just where they
were before. It is true that many individuals
of very low rank rose to positions of great pow-
3r ; but they represented only a party, and
the power they wielded was monarchical power
usurped, not Republican power fairly conferred
upon them. Thus, though in the time of the
Commonwealth there were plenty of Republi-
cans, there was never a republic. It has al-
ways been so in all European revolutions. In
America, Legislatures and executive officers of
etate are only agents, through whom the great
population itself quietly executes its will, the
two millions of votes in the great elections be-
ing the real power by which every thing is con-
trolled. But Cromwell, Napoleon, Lamartine,

206 King Charles II. [1659

Paitiefl In England. Genera Monk

Cavaignac, and all the others, whatever formal-
ities of voting may have attended their inJuc-
tioE into office, have always really held their
power by force of bayonets, not of ballots. There
is great danger that it will continue so in Eu-
rope for a long time to come.

But to return. It was in 1659 when the ai
my, with Lambert at its head, expelled the Par-
liament. All England was now divided into
parties, some for the Parliament, some for the
army, some for the king. There was a distin-
guished general in Scotland at this time named
Monk. He had been left there by Cromwell in
command of the military forces in that country.
He was a man considerably advanced in life, and
of great circumspection, prudence, and steadi-
ness of character. All parties wished to gain
his influence, but he kept his own counsel, and
declared openly for neither.

He, however, began to get together his for-
ces, and to make preparations to march ink
England. People asked him what he intended
to do, but he would give no definite answer.
He was six weeks getting ready for his expedi-
tion, during which time many deputations were
sent to him from the various parties, maJving
different propositions to him, each party being

1660.1 The Restoration. 207

Monk mnrchos to England The Pai'Uament reitored.

eager to obtain his adhesion to their cause. Hp
received all t'.ieir deputations, heard what they
had to say, made no definite reply to any of
them, but went on quietly with his work. Ha
got the various divisions of his army at length
together, made provisional arrangements for the
government of Scotland during his absence, and
set out on his march.

He entered England in January, 1660, and
advanced toward London. The English army
was scattered all over the kingdom ; but Monk
opened negotiations with the leaders of it, and
also with the members of Parliament, and, with-
out committing himself absolutely to either par-
ty, he managed to have the Parliament restor-
ed. They assembled peaceably in London, and
resumed their functions. A part of the En
glish army was there for their protection,
Monk, as he approached London, sent word to
Parliament asking that quarters might be pro
nded for him and his army there. Parliament,
desirous of conciliating him and securing his
co-operation in sustaining their power, acceded
to this request. The other troops were remov-
ed; Monk entered I^r>ndon in triumph, and took
possession of all the strong-holds there, holding
them nominally under Parliamentary authority

208 King Charles II. [1660

Monk's adroit management. A pew Parliament eaUed

Monic still kept )iis ultimate designs pro-
foundly secret. No party very strongly op-
posed him, for no party knew whether to re-
gard him as an enemy or a friend. The Roy-
ilists, however, all over the kingdom, took new
?ourage, and a general expectation began to
pervade the minds of men that the monarchy
was to be restored. The Parliament rescinded
the votes which had been most decisive against
the house of Stuart and monarchical rule. The
most prominent Republicans were dismissed
from office under various pretexts, and men
known to be loyal were appointed in their place.
Finally, the Parliament itself was dissolved, and
writs were issued for the election of a new one,
more in accordance with the ancient forms.

When at length this new Parliament assem-
bled, the public mind was in a great fever of
excitement, there being a vague expectation
every where that the monarchy was to be re-
stored, while yet the Restoration was openly
spoken of by no one. The first votes which
were taken in the House of Commons indicated
a very favorable state of feeling toward monar-
chy ; and at length, a few days after the open-
ing of the session, ii was announced that there
was a messenger at the door with a communi-

1660.] The Restoration. 209

Messenger from the king. The king's DecIaratloD.

jation from the king. The announcement was
received with the wildest acclamations of joy.
The messenger was immediately ordered to en-
ter The communication was read, the vast as-
sembly listening with breathless attention.

It contained, in the jfirst place, a letter, in
which the king stated that, having heard that
the people of England had restored the Parlia-
ment according to the ancient forms, he hoped
that now the Parliament would go on and com-
plete the good work which had been begun, and
heal the distractions of the kingdom by rein-
stating him as sovereign in the ancient rights
and prerogatives of the crown.

The second part of the king's communication,
and by far the most important part, was what
was called his Declaration, a document in which
he announced formally what his intentions were
in case he were restored to the throne. One of
these assurances was, that he was ready to for-
give and forget the past, so far as he might him-
self be supposed to have cause of complaint
against any of his subjects for the part they had
taken in the late transactions. He professe.!
his readiness to grant a free pardon to all, ex-
cepting those who should be expressly excluded
from such pardon by the Parliament itself.
O

210 Kino Charles 11. [1660

Prindplea of the Ung** DedmratloiL General fati«factloD

The Deolaration also set forth that, inas-
much as there was prevailing throughout the
country a great diversity of religious opinion,
the king, if restored to his throne, whatever his
own religious views or those of his government
might be, would agree that his subjects should
be allowed full liberty of conscience in all re-
spects, and that nobody should be molested in
any way on account of his religious faith or
usages of worship.

And, finally, the Deolaration contained a cov-
enant on the part of the king, that whereas
there had been great changes of property, aris-
ing from fines and confiscations for political of-
fenses during the period of the Revolution, he
would not himself disturb the existing titles to
property, but would leave them to be settled
on such principles and in such a way as Parlia-
ment should direct.

The letter from the king, and especially the
Declaration, gave the utmost satisfaction. The
latter disarmed those who would otherwise have
opposed the return of the king, by quieting their
fears of being disturbed in respect to their lib
erty or their property. Immediately after thes»:
papers were read, they were ordered to be pub-
lished, and were sent every where throughout

1660.J The Restoration. 211

Charles proclaimed king. Money voted.

the kingdom, awakening, wherever they went
the greatest demonstrations of joy. Ths Par-
liament passed a vote that the ancient Consti-
tution of the kingdom, of government by king,
Lords, and Commons, ought to be restored, and
they went forth in a body into the public places
of the city to proclaim Charles II. king.

Parliament voted immediately a grant of fifty
thousand pounds, a sum equal to more than two
hundred thousand dollars, for the king's imme-
diate use, with large sums besides for the other
members of the family, and sent a committee
of noblemen to Holland to carry the money and
to invite the king back to his dominions. As
soon as tidings of these events reached the Con-
tinent, every body hastened to pay their court
to his majesty. From being neglected, desti-
tute, and wretched, he suddenly found himself
elevated to the highest pinnacle of prosperity
and fame. Every body offered him their aid ;
his court was thronged, and all were ready to
do him honor. The princely mother of one of
the young ladies who had rejected the offer of
his hand in the day of his adversity, sent him
an intimation that the offer would be accepted
if he would renew it now.

A fleet crossed the Channel tc receive the king

212 King Charles II. [1660

rhe king arrives In London. Monk made Duke of Albemarle

and convey him to London. His brother James,
the Duke of York, was placed in command of it
fts Lord Higli Admiral of England. The fleet
jailed for Dover. General Monk went to Dover
U receive the king at his landing. He escorted
hjm to London, where the monarch, returning
from his long exile, arrived on the twenty-ninth
of May, the very day when he became thirty
years of age.

General Monk, whose talent, skill, and con-
summate management had been the means of
effecting this great change without violence or
bloodshed, was rewarded by being made Duko
of Albemarle. This was a very great reward.
In fact, no American imagination can conceive
of the images of glory and grandeur which are
connected in the mind of an Englishman with
the idea of being made a duke. A duke lives
In a palace ; he is surrounded by a court ; he
expends princely revenues ; he reigns, in fact,
often, so far as the pomp and pleasure of reign-
ing are concerned, over quite a little kingdom,
and is looked up to by the millions beneath his
grade with a reverence as great, at least, as that
with which the ancients looked up to their gods
He is deprived of nothing which pertains to pow
er but the mere toil, and care, and responsibility

Charles the Second.

J J60.] The Restoration. ^15

Glories of a dukedom. Motives of Monk

)f ruling, so that he has all the sweetness and
fragrance of sovereignty without its thorns. In
a word, the seat of an English duke, so far as
earthly greatness and glory are concerned, is
undoubtedly the finest which ambition, wealth,
and power combined have ever succeeded in
carving out for man. It is infinitely better
than a throne.

Some historians maintain that Monk acted on
a secret understanding with Charles from the
commencement ; that the general was to restore
the king, and was then to receive a dukedom for
his reward. Others say that he acted from a
simple sense of duty in all that he did, and that
the lofty elevation to which he was raised was
a very natural and suitable testimonial of the
royal gratitude. The reader will embrace the
one or the other of the two theories, according
to the degree of readiness or of reluctance with
which he believes in the existence of conscien-
tious principles of patriotism and loyalty among
the great men who rule the world

216 King Charles II. ^IGCa

Varioiu marriage negotiationa. HotiTea

Chapter X.

The Marriage.

■p|URING the period of King Charles's days
-*--' of adversity he made many fruitless at-
tempts to obtain a wife. He was rejected by
all the young ladies to whom he made propo-
sals. Marriages in that grade of society are
almost always mere transactions of business,
being governed altogether by political and pru-
dential considerations. In all Charles's propo-
sals he was aiming simply at strengthening his
own position by means of the wealth or family
influence of the bride, supposing as he did that
the honor of being even nominally a queen
would be a sufficient equivalent to the lady.
The ladies themselves, however, to whom he
addressed himself, or their friends, thought that
the prospect of his being really restored to his
throne was very remote and uncertain, and, in
the mean time, the empty name of queen was
not worth as much as a rich and powerful heir-
ess, by becoming his bride, would have to pay
fcr it.

After his restoration, however, all this wa?

1660.] The Marriage. 217

Catharine of Braganza. Plans of Queen Henrietta.

changed. There was no longer any difficulty
He had now only to choose. In fact, one or
two who had refused him when he was a fugi-
tive and an exile thought differently of the case
Qow that he was a king, and one of them, as
has already been said, gave him intimations,
through her friends, that if he were inclined
to renew his suit, he would be more successful.
Charles rejected these overtures with indignant
disdain.

The lady whom he ultimately married was
a Portuguese princess. Her father was King
of Portugal, but before his accession to the
throne his title had been the Duke of Braganza.
The name of his daughter was Catharine. She
is thus known generally in history by the name
of Catharine of Braganza.

It is said that the plan of this marriage orig-
inated with Queen Henrietta Maria, and that
a prominent motive with her in promoting the
measure was her desire to secure for Charles
a Catholic wife. Catharine of Braganza was a
Catholic. Henrietta Maria was deeply inter-
ested, and no doubt conscientiously so, in bring-
ing back her own family and their descendants,
and the realm of England, if possible, to the
Qcnoient faith ; and this question of the mar-

21S King Charles II. [1660

Henrietta's visit to England, Her Joyfiil emotlona

riage of her son she justly considered would
have a very important bearing on the result.

Queen Henrietta is said to have laid her ar-
rangements in train for opening the negotiation
with the Portuguese princess, at a visit which
she made to England in 1660, very soon after
her son's restoration. The Restoration took
place in May. The queen's visit to her son
was in October. Of course, after all the long
years of danger, privation, and suffering which
this family had endured, the widowed mother
felt an intense emotion of joy at finding her chil-
dren once more restored to what she considered
their just hereditary rights. Charles was on the
English throne. James, the Duke of York, was
Lord High Admiral of England, that is, the
commander-in-chief of the naval forces of the
realm ; and her other children, those who were
still living, were in peace and safety. Of course,
her heart was full of maternal pride and joy.

Her son James, the Lord High Admiral, went
across the Channel to Dover, with a fleet of the
finest ships that he could select from the whole
British navy^ to escort his mother to E ogland.
The queen was to embark at Calais.* The

• For a view of the famous Calais pier, see History of Mat^
Queen of Scots, page 105.

1660.] The Marriage. 219

The English fleet Calm on the Channel

queen came down to the port from Paris, at-
tended by many friends, who sympathized with
her in the return of her prosperity, and were
attracted, besides, by the grand spectacle which
they thought would be presented by the appear-
ance and maneuvers of the English ships, and
the ceremony of the embarkation.

The waters of the English Channel are dis-
turbed by almost perpetual agitations, which
bleak winds and rapid tides, struggling contin-
ually together, combine to raise ; and many a
traveler, who passes in comfort across the At-
lantic, is made miserable by the incessant rest-
lessness of this narrow sea. At the time, how-
ever, when Henrietta Maria crossed it, the wa-
ters for once were calm. The people who as-
sembled upon the pier to witness the embarka-
tion looked over the expanse before them, and
saw it lying smooth, every where, as glass, and
reflecting the great English ships which lay at
a little distance from the shore as if it were a
mirror. It was a bright and beautiful October
morning. The air seemed perfectly motionless
The English ships were adorned with countless
flags in honor of the occasion, but they all hung
down perfectly lifeless upon the masts and rig-
ging. Scarcely a ripple rolled upon the beach ;

220 King Charles II. [1660

rhe queen embarks. The fleet «eti saQ

and so silent and still was the morning air, that
the voices and echoes came from vast distances
along the shore, and the dip of "the oars of the
boats gliding about in the offing sent its sound
for miles around over the smooth surface of thb
sea ; and when the grand salute was fired at the
embarkation of the queen, the reverberation of
the guns was heard distinctly, it was said, at
Dover, a distance of thirty miles.

Even in such a calm as this, however, un-
common as it is, the atmosphere is not perfect-
ly still. When the royal party were on board
the vessels and the sails were set, the fleet did
begin to glide, almost imperceptibly, it is true,
away from the shore. In the course of the day
they had receded several miles from the land,
and when the dinner hour arrived they found
that the lord admiral had provided a most sump-
tuous banquet on boar-d. Just before the time,
however, for setting down to the table, the duke
found that it was a Catholic fast day, and that
neither his mother nor any of her attendants,
being, as they were, all Catholics, could eat any
thing but fish ; and, unfortunately, as all James's
men were Protestants, they had not thought of
the fast, and they had no fish on board. They,
however, contrived to produce a sturgeon for the

1660.] The Marriage 221

Landing of Henrietta. Reception by Charlea

queen, and they sat down to the table, the queen
to the dish provided for her, and the others to
bread and vegetables, and such other food as the
Catholic ritual allowed, while the duke himself
and his brother officers disposed, as well as they
could, of the more luxurious dainties which they
had intended for their guests.

With a fair wind, three hours is sufficient lor
the run from Calais to Dover, It took the Duke
of York two days to get his fleet across in this
calm. At length, however, they arrived. The
king was on the pier to receive his mother. Re-
joiced as her majesty must have been to be wel-
comed by her son under such circumstances,
she must have thought mournfully of her de-
parted husband at the time of her landing, for
it was here that he had taken leave of her some
years before, when the troubles of her family
were beginning.* Charles conducted his moth-
er to the castle. All the inhabitants of Dover,
and of the country around, had assembled to
yitness the arrival, and they welcomed the
mother back to the land of her husband and her
eions with long and loud acclamations.

There was a great banquet at Dover Castle.
Here all the members of the royal family were

* For a view of Dover aatl the Castle, see page 3fi.

222 Kino Chaelbs II. [1660

fireat banquet at Dover Caetle. The divine blessing

present, having been assembled for the occasion-
Of course, it was an occasion of great family
rejoicing, mingled undoubtedly, on the part of
the queen, with many mournful thoughts and
bitter recollections. The fast was past, and
there was, consequently, no difficulty now about
partaking of the food that had been provided ;
but another difficulty arose, having the same
origin, viz., the question whether the divine
blessing should be implored upon the food by a
Catholic priest or an Episcopal chaplain. Nei
ther party could conscientiously acquiesce in
the performance of the service by the other.
They settled the important question, or rather
it settled itself at last, in the following manner:
When the guests were ready to take their pla-
ces at table, the king, instead of asking his
mother's spiritual guide to officiate, as both
Christian and filial courtesy required him to
have done, called upon his own chaplain. The
chaplain said grace. Immediately afterward,
the Catholic priest, thinking that fidelity to hi?
C'Wn religious faith required him to act decided-
ly, repeated the service in the Catholic form,
ending with making the sign of the cross in a
very conspicuous luanner over the table. The
gentry of Dover, who had been admitted as

1660.] The Marriage. 223

Henrietta proceeds to London. Hei unhappiiiees

spectators of this banquet, were greatly scan-
dalized at this deed. They regarded the ges-
ture as an act of very wicked and very danger-
ous idolatry.

From Dover the queen proceeded with her
children to London. Her sons did every thing
in their power to honor their mother's visit;
they received her with great parade and pomp,
assigned her a sumptuous residence, and stud-
ied every means of amusing her, and of making
her visit a source of pleasure. But they did not
succeed. The queen was very unhappy. Ev-
ery place that she visited recalled to her mind
the memory of her husband, and awakened
afresh all her sorrows. She was distressed, too,
by some domestic troubles, which we have not
here time to describe. Then the religious dif-
ferences between herself and her children, and
the questions which were arising out of them
continually, gave her a great deal of pain ; she
could not but perceive, moreover, that she was
regarded with suspicion and dislike by the people
of England on account of her Catholic faith
Then, besides, notwithstanding her English hus-
band and her English children, she was her-
self a French woman stiU in character, thought,
feeling, and language, and she could not feei

224 Kino Charles II. [1661.

Henrietta returns lo France. Catharine of Braganza

really at home north of the Channel. After re-
maining, therefore, a few months in London,
and arranging some family and business affairs
which required her attention, she determined
to return. The king accompanied her to Ports-
mouth, where she set sail, taking the little prin-
cess Henrietta with her, and went back to
France. Among the family affairs, however,
which she arranged, it is said that the marriage
of her son, the king, was a special object of her
attention, and that she secretly laid the train
which resulted in his espousing Catharine of
Braganza.

According to the accounts given in the chron-
icles of the times, the negotiations were opened
in the following maimer : One day the Portu-
guese embassador at London came to a certain
high officer of the king's household, and intro-
duced the subject of his majesty's marriage, say-
ing, in the course of the conversation, that he
thought the Princess Catharine of Portugal
would be a very eligible match, and adding
moreover, that he was authorized to say that,
with the lady, very advantageous terms could be
offered. Charles said he would think of it. This
gave the embassador sufficient encouragement
to induce him to take another step. He ob

1661.] The Marriage. 225

CathariD') offered to Charles. Advantageous terus

tained an audience of Charles the next day, and
proposed the subject directly for his considera-
tion. The embassador knew very well that the
luestion would turn, in Charles's mind, on the
pecuniary and political advantages of the match ;
so he stated at once what they would be. He
was authorized to offer, he said, the sum of five
hundred thousand pounds* as the princess's por-
tion, and to surrender to the English crown va-
rious foreign possessions, which had, till then,
belonged to the Portuguese. One of the prin-
cipal of these was the island of Bombay in the
East Indies. Another was Tangier, a port in
Africa, The English did not, at that time,
hold any East Indian territories. He likewise
offered to convey to the English nation the right
of trading with the great South American coun-
try of Brazil, which then pertained to the Por-
tuguese crown.

Charles was very much pleased with these
proposals. He immediately consulted his prin-
cipal minister of stalte. Lord Clarendon, the cel-
ebrated historian, and soon afterward called a
meeting of his privy council and laid the case
before them. Clarendon asked him if he had
given up all thoughts of a Protestant conneo-

• Equal to two or three millions of dollars.

226 King Cha-tles II. [1661

Ch«rle8 consults his ministers. Their opinion favoralila

tion. Charles said that he did not know wh^re
to look for a Protestant wife. It was true, in
fact, that nearly all the royal families of Eu
rope were Catholics, and royal bridegrooms must
always have royal brides. There were, how-
ever, Protestant princesses in Germany ; this
was suggested to his majesty, but he replied,
with an expression of contempt, that they were
all dull and foggy, and he could not possibly
have one of them for a wife.

The counselors then began to look at the pe-
cuniary and political advantages of the proposed
bargain. They got out their maps, and showed
Charles where Bombay, and Tangier, and the
other places offered with the lady as her dowry
lay. The statesmen were quite pleased with
the prospect of these acquisitions, and Charles
was particularly gratified with the money item.
It was twice as much, they said, as any En-
glish king had ever before received as the mar
riage portion of a bride. In a word, the prop
osition was unanimously considered as in every
respect entirely satisfactory, and Charles au-
thorized his ministerv« to open the negotiations
for the marriage immediately. AU this time
Charles had never seen the lady, and perhap:^
had never heard ^f her before. Her own indi-

1661.1 The Marriage. 221

ChMles's ideas of married life. Lady Castlemaine

vidual qualifications, whether of mind or of per^
son, seem to have been considered a subject not
worth inquiring about at all.

Nor ought we to be at all surprised at this.
It was not Charles's object, in seeking a wife, to
find some one whom he was to cherish and love,
and who was to promote his happiness by mak-
ing him the object of her affection in return.
His love, so far as such a soul is capable of love,
was to be gratified by other means. He had
always some female favorite, chosen from among
the ladies of his court, high in rank, though not
high enough to be the wedded wife of the king.
These attachments were not private in any
sense, nor was any attempt made to conceal
them, the king being in the habit of bestowing
upon the objects of them all the public atten-
tions, as well as the private intimacy which per-
tain to wedded life. The king's favorite at the
present time was Lady Castlemaine. She was
originally a Mrs. Palmer, but the king had made
her husband Lord Castlemaine -for the purpose
of giving a title to tVe wife. Some years aft-
erward he made her a duchess. She was a
prominent lady in the court, being every where
received and honored as the temporary wife of
the king. He did not intend, in marrying th'

228 King Charles II. [1661

The Spanish government interferes. Its offer to Charles

Princess Catharine, to disturb this state of
things at all. She was to be in name his wife,
but he was to place his affections where he
pleased. She was to have her own palace, her
own household, and her own pleasures, and he,
on the other hand, was to continue to have his.
Notwithstanding this, however, Charles seem-
ed to have had some consideration for the per-
sonal appearance of his proposed bride, after all.
The Spanish government, as soon as Charles's
plan of espousing Catharine became known, at-
tempted to prevent the match, as it would great-
ly increase the strength and influence of Portu-
gal by giving to that country so powerful an
ally. Spain had plenty of money, but no prin-
cess in the royal family ; and the government
therefore proposed to Charles, that if he would
be content to take some Protestant lady for a
wife, they would endow her, and with a portion
as great as that which had been offered with
Catharine. They, moreover, represented to
Charles that Catharine was out of health, and
very plain and repulsive in her personal appear-
ance, and that, besides, it would be a great deal
better for him, for obvious political reasons, to
marry a Prute!>tant princess. The other party
re).lied that Catharine was not ugly by any

1661.] Thk Marriage. 229

Catharine's portrait. The affaif eo&cludel

means, and they showed Charles her portrait,
which, after looking at it a few minutes, he
said was not unhandsome. The} reminded him,
also, that Catharine was only the tliird in suc-
cession from the crown of Portugal, so that the
chance of her actually inheriting that realm
was not at all to be disregarded. Charles
thought this a very important consideration,
and, on the whole, decided that the affair should
go on ; and commissioners were sent to make
a formal proposal of marriage at the Portuguese
court. Charles wrote letters to the mother of
the young lady, and to the young lady herself,
expressing the personal interest he felt in ob-
taining the princess's hand.

The negotiations thus commenced went on
for many months, with no other obstruction than
the complication and intricacy which attend all
matrimonial arrangements where the interests
of kingdoms, as well as the personal happiness
of the wedded pair, are involved in the issue
Embassadors were sent, and contracts and treat
ies were drawn up, discussed, modified, and
finally signed. A formal announcement of the
proposed marriage was made to the English
Parliament, and addresses congratulatory were
voted and presented in reply. Arrangement.^

230 King Charles II. [1661

Pinal arraugements. Charles's letter to CatharliiQ

were made for transferring the foreign posses-
sions promised to the British crown ; and, last-
ly, the money intended for the dower was ool-
Ucted, tied up in bags, sealed, and deposited
safely in the strong room of the Castle at Lis-
bon. In fact, every thing went on prosperous-
ly to the end, and when all was thus finally
settled, Charles wrote the following letter to hia
expected bride.

" London, 2d of July, 1661.

" My Lady and Wife,

"Already the embassador has set off for Lis-
bon ; for me the signing of the marriage has
been great happiness ; and there is about to be
dispatched at this time, after him, one of my
servants, charged with what would appear nec-
essary, whereby may be declared on my part
the inexpressible joy of this felicitous concln-
sion, which, when received, will hasten the com-
ing of your majesty.

"I am going to make a short progress into
fiome of my provinces. In the mean time, while
I am going further from my most sovereign
good, yet I do not complain as to whither I go ;
beeking in vain tranquillity in my restlessness,
looking to see the beloved person of your maj-
iidty in these realms already your own ; and

1661.] The Marriage. 231

4ddre8s of the letter. It« hypocriiy

that with the same anxiety with which, after
tny long banishment, I desired to see myself
within them, and my subjects desiring also to
behold me among them. The presence of your
serenity is only wanting to unite us, under the
protection of God, in the health and content I
desire.

"The very faithful husband of her majesty,
whose hand he kisses. Charles Rex."

The letter was addressed

" To the Queen of Great Britain, my wife and lady, whom
God preserve."

Whoever reads this letter attentively will see
in it that infallible criterion of hypocrisy and
pretense in professions of regard, viz., extrava-
gant ideas feebly and incoherently expressed.
When the heart dictates what is said, the
thoughts are natural, and the language plain ;
but in composition like the above, we see a con-
tinual striving to say something for effect, which
the writer invents by his ingenuity as he goes
on, without any honest impulses from the heart
to guide him. He soars one minute and breaks
lown the next, in ubsurd alternations of the sub-
ime and the ridiculous. How honest Charles
^as in such professions, and what was the kina

232 King Charles II. [1661.

Charlea's double dealing. Catharino'i lituation and chaiwster.

of connubial happiness which he was preparing
for his bride, is shown by the fact that he was
even now spending all his time with Lady Cas*
tlemaine ; and, to reconcile her to his marriage
with Catharine, he had promised her that ho
would make her one of the ladies of the queen's
bed-chamber as soon as she arrived in London^
which would give him constant opportunities ol
bemg in her society.

We have made very little allusion to Cath
arine herself, thus far, in the account of these
transactions, because she has had, thus far, noth-
ing to do with them. Every thing has been
arranged for her by her mother, who was an
ambitious and masculine woman, and at this
time the queen regent of Portugal. Catharine
had been kept shut up, all her days, in the most
strict seclusion, and in the most rigorous sub-
jection to her mother's will. It is said that she
had hardly been ten times out of the palace in
her life, since her return to it from the convent
where she had been educated. The innocent
and simple-hearted maiden looked forward to
ner marriage as to a release from a tedious and
mtolerable bondage. They had shown her King
Charles's picture, and had given her an account
of his perilous adventures and romantic eisoapes,

1662.] The Marriaoe. 233

Catharine's fond anticipations. Earl of Sandwich sent for the bride

and of the courage and energy which he had
sometimes displayed. And that was all she
knew. She had her childlike ideas of love and
of conjugal fidelity and happiness, and believed
that she was going to realize them. As she
looked forward, therefore, to ine period of her
departure for England, she longed impatiently
for the time to come, her heart bounding at ev-
ery thought of the happy hour with eager an-
ticipations of delight.

An English nobleman — the Earl of Sand-
wich— was sent with a squadron to bring the
bride to England. He was received, when he
entered the Tagus, with great ceremony. A
Portuguese minister went down the river to
meet him in a magnificent barge. The noble-
man descended to the lowest step of the ladder
which led down the side of the ship, to receive
the minister. They ascended the ladder togeth-
er, while the ship fired a salute of twenty or
thirty guns. They went into the cabin, and
took seats there, with great ceremony. The
minister then rose and made an address of wel-
come to the English commander. Lord Sand-
wich replied, and there was then another thun-
lering salute of cannon.

All this parade and ceremony' was, in thit

234 King Charles 1 1. [1662.

The money. Catharine's leave of her mother.

case, as it often is, not an expression of real
cordiality, good- will, and good faith, but a sub-
stitute for them. The English commander,
who had been specially instructed to bring over
the money as well as the bride, found, to his
great astonishment and perplexity, that the
queen regent had spent a considerable portion
of the money which had been put away so safe-
ly in the bags, and she wished to pay now a
part of the dowry in merchandise, at such pri-
ces as she thought reasonable, and to have a
year's credit for the remainder. There was thus
thrown upon Lord Sandwich the very heavy
responsibility of deciding whether to give up the
object of his expedition, and go back to England
without the bride, or to take her without the
money. After very anxious hesitation and sus-
pense, he decided to proceed with his enterprise,
and the preparations were made for the prin-
cess's embarkation.

When the day arrived, the queen descended
the grand stair-case of the palace, and at the
foot of it took leave of her mother. Neither
mother nor daughter shed a tear. The prin-
cess was conducted through the streets, accom-
panied by a long cavalcade and a procession of
splendid carriages, through long lines of soldiers,

i662.] The Marriage. 237

Parade and ceremony. The embarkation.

and under triumphal arches, and over patha
strewed with flowers, while bands of music, and
groups of dancers, at various distances along
the way, expressed the general congratulation
and joy. When they reached the pier there
was a splendid brigantine or barge ready to re-
ceive the bride and her attendants. The Earl
of Sandwich, and other English officers of high
rank belonging to the squadron, entered the
barge too. The water was covered with boats,
and the shipping in the river was crowded with
spectators. The barge moved on to the ship
which was to convey the bridal party, who as-
cended to the deck by means of a spacious and
beautiful stair constructed upon its side. Sa
lutes were fired by the English ships, and were
echoed by the Portuguese forts on the shore.
The princess's brother and the ladies who had
accompanied her on board, to take leave of her
there, now bade her farewell, and returned by
the barge to the shore, while the ships weighed
anchor and prepared to put to sea.

The wind was, however, contrary, and they
were compelled to remain that night in the riv-
er ; and as soon as the darkness came on, the
whole shore became resplendent with illumina-
tions at the windows in the city, and with rook-

238 King Charles II. [1662

Grand display of flre-works. Arrival at Portsrnouth

ets, and fire-balls, and fire-works of every kind,
rising from boats upon the water, and fiom the
banks, and heights, and castle battlements all
around upon the land. This gay and splendid
spectacle beguiled the night, but the wind con-
tinued unfavorable all the next day, and con-
fined the squadron still to the river. Catha-
rine's mother sent out a messenger during the
day to inquire after her daughter's health and
welfare. The etiquette of royalty did not al-
low of her coming to see her child.

The fleet, which consisted of fourteen men-
of-war, put to sea on the second day. After a
long and stormy passage, the squadron arrived
off the Isle of Wight ; the Duke of York came
out to meet it there, with five other ships, and
they all entered the harbor of Portsmouth to-
gether. As soon as Catharine landed, she wrote
immediately to Charles to notify him of her ar-
rival. The news produced universal excite-
ment in London. The bells were rung, bon-
fires were made in the streets, and houses were
illuminated. Every body seemed full of joy
and pleasure except the king himself He
seemed to care little about it. He was supping
that night with Lady Castlemaine. It was five
days before he set out to meet his bride, and he

1662.] The Mauriaue. 239

BtniDge conduct of Charles. His interview vrith Cathtfine-

supped with Lady Castlemaine the night before
he commenced his journey.

Some of Charles's best friends were very much
grieved at his pursuing such a course ; others
were very indignant ; but the majority of the
people around him at court were like himself in
character and manners, and were only led to
more open irregularity and vice themselves by
this public example of their sovereign. In thb
mean time, the king moved on to Portsmouth,
escorted by a body of his Life Guards. He found
that his intended bride was confined to her bed
with a sort of slow fever. It was the result,
they said, of the roughness and discomforts of
the voyage, though we may certainly imagine
another cause. Charles went immediately to
the house where she was residing, and was ad-
mitted to visit her in her chamber, the many
attendants who were present at the interview
watching with great interest every word and
look on either side by which they might judge
*f the nature of the first impression made by the
bride and bridegroom upon each other. Cath-
arine was not considered beautiful, and it was
natural that a degree of curiosity should be
manifested to learn how Charles woad regard
her.

240

Kino Charles 11.

[166'i

Portrait of tiuecu C'ttharlno-

The following ropresentation of the queen is
from a picture painted during her lifetime

Catharine of Braganza.

There are two apparently contradictory ac
jonnts of the impression made upon Charles bj

lt)6*^.J The Marriage. 241

Charles's opinion of Catharine. The nurriage.

this his first sight of his intended bride. Charles
wrote a letter to Lord Clarendon, in which he
expressed himself very well satisfied with her.
He admitted that she was no beauty, but her
countenance was agreeable, he said, and " hei
conversation," he added, "as far as I can per-
ceive, is very good ; for she has wit enough, and
a very agreeable voice. You would be sur-
prised to see how well we are acquainted al-
ready. In a word, I think myself very happy,
and I am confident that we shall agree very
well together. I have not time to say any more.
My lord lieutenant will tell you the rest." At
the same time, while writing this in his official
communication to his minister, he said private-
ly to one of his companions on leaving the pres-
ence of his bride, that, " upon his word, they had
sent him a bat instead of a woman."

The royal couple were married the next day,
first very privately in the Catholic form, and
afterward more openly, in a great hall, and be-
fore a large assembly, according to the ritaal
of the Church of England. The bride was at-
tired in the English style, her dress being of
rose color, trimmed with knots of blue ribbon.
These knots were, after the ceremony, detached
from the dress, and distributed among the conv
Q

242 King Charles 11. 1I66J?

Marriage presents. Journey to Londor

pany as wedding favors, every lady eager 1}
pressing forward to get a share. Magnificeal
presents were made to the groomsmen anr'
bridesmaids, and the company dispersed. Th'
queen, still indisposed, went back to her bed"
and her supper was served to her there, th»
king and other members of the household par
taking it with her, seated at the bedside.

A day or two afterward the royal party pro-
ceeded to London, in a long train composed of
Life Guards, carriages, horsemen, baggage wag-
ons, and attendants of every grade. The queen's
heart was full of anticipations of happiness.
The others, who knew what state of things she
was to find on her arrival there, looked forward
to scenes of trouble and woe.

i6tj2.] Character and Reign. 243

The caae of Lady Castlemaine. Catharine's splendid apartmenta

Chapter XL

Character and Rei^n

OOME of the traits of character for which
^^ King Charles II. has been most noted among
mankind are well illustrated by his manage-
ment of the affair of Lady Castlemaine, when
the queen arrived at her new home in Hamp-
ton Court. Hampton Court is a very spacious
and beautiful palace on the banks of the Thames,
some miles above London, splendidly built, and
very pleasantly situated at a graceful bend of
the river. It was magnificently fitted up and
furnished for Catharine's reception. Her suite
of apartments were supplied and adorned in the
most sumptuous manner. Her bed, which was
a present to Charles, at the time of his restora-
tion, from the States of Holland, was said to
have cost, with all the appurtenances, a sum
equal to between thirty and forty thousand dol-
lars. The hangings were an embroidery of
silver on crimson velvet. The other articles of
furniture in the apartment, the mirrors, the
richly inlaid cabinets, the toilet service of mass*

244 King Charles II. [1662

Lady Castlemdlne'B son. The double baptism

ive gold, the canopies, the carved chairs, tbo
curtains, the tapestries, and the paintings, cor-
responded in magnificence with the bed, so that
Catharine, when she was introduced to the
scene, felt that she had attained to the very
summit of human grandeur.

For a few weeks Catharine neither saw nor
heard any thing of Lady Castlemaine. She
was confined to her house at the time by the
care of an infant, born a few days after the ar-
rival of the queen. Her husband had the child
baptized soon after its birth as his son and heir ;
but the mother soon afterward had it baptized
a,gain as the son of the king, Charles himself
standing sponsor on the occasion. A violent
quarrel followed between Lady Castlemaine and
her husband. She left the house, takisg with
her all her servants and attendants, and all the
plate and other valuables which she could carry
away. The husband, overwhelmed with wretch-
edness and shame, abandoned every thing, and
went to France, in voluntary exile. His wife
then came and took up her residence at Rich-
mond, which is not far from Hampton Court,
so as to be near the king. In all these proceed-
ings the king himself gave her his continued
countenance, encouragement, and aid.

1662.] Character and Reign. 245

Lady rastlemaine named fi>r the household. Catharine's indtgnatioB

Although Catharine, in the confiding sim-
plicity of her character, had fully believed, in
coming to London, that Charles would be to
hor a true and faithful husband, still she had
heard the name of Lady Castlemaine before she
left Lisbon. Her mother had once briefly al-
luded to the subject, and gave her a warning,
charging her to remember the name, and to be
on her guard against the lady herself, and never
to tolerate her in her presence on any pretext.
Things were in this state, when, one day, after
Catharine had been about six weeks in her new
home, Charles brought in a list of ladies whom
he proposed that she should make the ladies of
her household. Catharine took the list, and
there, to her surprise and indignation, she saw
the dreaded name of Lady Castlemaine at the
head of it.

Very much agitated, she began to prick out
the name, and to declare that she could not
listen to any such proposition. Charles was
angry, and remonstrated. She persisted, and
said that he must either yield to her in that
point, or send her back to Lisbon. Charles was
determined to have his way, and Catharine was
overwhelmed with anguish and grief. This last-
ed two days, when Charles made his peace with

246 King Charles II. [1662

Charles appears to jrield the point. His duplicity

his wife by solemnly promising to give up Lady
Castlemaine, and to have from that time for-
ward nothing more to do with her.

King Charles II. has always been famed foi
his good nature. This was a specimen of it.
He never liked to quarrel with any body, and
was always ready to give up his point, in ap-
pearance and form at least, for the sake of peace
and good humor. Accordingly, when he found
how immovably averse his wife was to having
Lady Castlemaine for an inmate of her family,
instead of declaring that she must and should
submit to his will, he gave up himself, and said
that he would think no more about it, without,
however, having the remotest idea of keeping
his word. He was only intending, since he
found the resistance so decided on this side of
the citadel, to try to find some other approach.

Accordingly, a short time after this, one even-
ing when the queen was holding a sort of levee
in a brilliant saloon, surrounded by her Portu-
guese ladies, and receiving English ladies, as
they were one after another presented to her
by the king, the company were astonished at
seeing Lady Castlemaine appear with the rest,
and, as she advanced, the king presented her tc
the queen. To the sui prise of every one, Cath-

I6fi2.] Character and Reign. 247

Catharine's sufferings. Violent quarrel

arine received her as graciously as the rest, and
gave her her hand. The fact was, that Catha-
rine, not being familiar with the sound and pro-
Qunciation of English words, had not understood
the name. One of the Portuguese ladies who
stood near her whispered to inquire if she knew
that that was Tiady Castlemaine. Catharine
was stunned and staggered by the words as by
a blow. The blood gushed from her nose, she
fell over into the arms of her attendants in a
fainting fit, and was borne out of the room.

There followed, after this scene, a long and
dreadful quarrel. Charles accused his wife of
unreasonable and foolish jealousy, and of put-
ting a public insult upon one of the ladies of
his court, whom she was bound to treat with
civility and respect, since he chose to have it so
She, on the other hand, declared that he was
cruel and tyrannical in making such demands
upon her, and that she would go back to Por-
tugal rather than submit to such an intolerable
indignity. She criminated Charles, and Charles
recriminated and threatened her, and for one
night the palace was filled with the noise and
uproar of the quarrel. The ladies and gentle-
men of the household were very glad, they said,
that they were not in London, where there

24iy King Charles II. [i662

Remonstrances of Charles's counselora. Lie silences all opposidoa

would have been so many more witnesses of
the scene.

Some of Charles's counselors and ministers of
«itate were disposed at first to remonstrate with
him for laying commands on his wife, with
which, as they expressed it, flesh and blood
could not comply. He, however, peremptorily
silenced all their expostulations, and required
them, as they valued his favor, to aid him in
effecting his purposes. Good-natured as he
was, his determination was fully aroused, and
he was now resolved to compel the queen to
submit. He wrote a letter to Lord Clarendon,
in which he declared his absolute and unalter-
able determination to make Lady Castlemaine
" of the queen's bed-chamber," and hoped he
might be miserable in this world and in the
world to come if he failed in the least degree
in what he had undertaken ; and if any one of
his friends attempted to thwart or impede him
in it in any way, he would make him repent of
it as long as he lived. The king concluded his
Jetter with asking Clarendon to show it to some
others concerned, that they might all under-
stand distinctly what they were to expect.

Of course;, every body, after this, took sides
against the queen, and all who had access to

1 662. J Character a ad Reign. 249

Lady Castlemaine's character. Her influ3nc«

her urged her to comply with the wishes of the
king She begged and prayed to be spared such
an indignity. She remonstrated, sometimes
\nth impetuous passion, and sometimes with
silent grief and bitter tears. She wanted to go
back again to Portugal ; but this, of course,
could not be. The end of it was, that she was
worn out at last. Lady Castlemaine was ad-
mitted, and remained an inmate of her family
as long as she retained her place in the king's
regard.

Lady Castlemaine was a proud and imperi-
ous beauty, who abused the power which she
soon found that she possessed over the king, in
a manner to make her an object of hatred to
every one else. She interfered with every thing,
and had a vast influence even over the ^flfairs
of state. The king was sometimes out oi ua-
tience, and attempted resistance, but she soon
reduced him to submission. There was once
some question about sending a certain noble-
man, who was charged with some political of-
fenses, to the Tower. She declared that he
should not be sent there. The king rebuked
her interference, and they got into a high dis-
pute on the subject, the king telling her, in the
end, *' that she was an impertinent jade, that

250 King Charlks II. [1662

Violent quarrels Tlie king's frankneM

meddled with things she had nothing to do with."
To which she replied " that he was a great fool,
that let fools have the management of his affairs,
and sent his faithful servants to prison." In
the end, the lady gained the victory, and the no-
bleman went free. Violent quarrels of this kind
were very frequent between these high-life lov-
ers, and they always ended in the triumph of
Lady Castlemaine, She used to threaten, as a
last resort, that if the king came to an open
rupture with her, she would print the letters
that he had written to her, and this always
brought him to terms.

These incidents indicate a very extraordina-
ry freedom and familiarity of manners on the
part of Charles, and he probably appears, in aU
these transactions, to much greater disadvant-
age in some respects than he otherwise would
have done, on account of the extreme openness
and frankness of his character. He lived, in
fact, on the most free and familiar terms with
all around him, jesting continually with ever)
body, and taking jests, with perfect good nature,
from others in return. In fact, his jests, gibes,
and frolics kept the whole court continually in
a condition of frivolous gayety and fun, which
would have excited ^he astonishment of all thf

1662.] Character and Ri;ign. 251

King Charles's spaniels. The king's frivolity

serious portion of mankind, if the extreme and
universal dissipation and vice which prevailed
had not awakened a far deeper emotion.

In fact, there seemed to be no serious ele-
ment whatever in the monarch's character.
He was, for instance, very fond of dogs, and
cultivated a particular breed, since called King
Charles's spaniels, which he kept at one time
in great numbers, and in all stages of age and
condition, in his palace, and in his very bed-
chamber, making all the apartments around
very disagreeable by the effluvia. Rewards
were constantly offered for certain of the king's
dogs which had escaped. They were always
escaping. He was attended by these dogs
wherever he went, and at his meetings with his
council, while the gravest and most momentous
national interests were under discussion, he
would amuse himself by playing with them un-
der the table. He read his speeches at Parlia-
ment, that is, the brief messages with which
the sovereign usually opens the session, in a ri
diculous manner, and at church, instead of at-
tending to the service, he would play at peep
with Lady Castlemaine between the curtains
which separated his box from that of the ladies
of the household. And yet he pretended to be

252 King Charles IL [1662.

Charlee'i opinion of atheism. His occapatioiu.

a firm believer in Christianity ; and while he
had no objection to any extreme of vice, he dis-
countenanced infidelity. On one occasion, when
a philosophical skeptic had been enlarging for
some time on his objections to the Christian
faith, Charles replied by saying, "My lord, I
am a great deal older than your grace, and have
heard more arguments in favor of atheism than
you, but I have lived long enough to see that
there is nothing in them, and I hope your grace
wiU."

Charles spent most of his time, at some pe-
riods of his reign, in idle amusements, lounging
about his palace, playing at tennis in the ten-
nis court like a boy, and then weighing him-
self afterward to see how much he was gaining.
In the afternoons and evenings he would loiter
in the rooms of his favorites while they were
finishing their dressing, gamble at cards, and
often would get very much intoxicated at wild
midnight carousals. He would ramble in the
mall and in the parks, and feed the aquatic
birds upon the ponds there, day after day, with
all the interest and pleasure of a truant school-
boy. He roamed about thus in the most free
and careless manner, and accosted people far
beneath him in rank in what was considered a
very undignified wav for a kinsr.

1662.] Character and Reign. 363

famei's remonetranceB. Jisato

His brother James, the Duke of York, some-
times remonstrated with him on this subject
James was, of course, so long as the queen,
Charles's lawful wife, had no children, the next
heir to the crown. He spent most of hig Life in
the court of his brother, and they were gener-
ally very warm friends to each other. On one
of Charles's frolicking excursions, when he was
away far from his palace, without any suitable
attendants or guards, James told him that he
really thought his life was not safe in such ex-
posures. Charles replied by telling James not
to give himself any uneasiness. " You may de-
pend upon it," said he, " that nobody will ever
think of killing me to make you king"

The king was not unwilling, too, to take, him-
self, such jests as he gave. One day, in con-
versation with a dissolute member of the court,
after they had been joking each other for some
time, he said, " Ah ! Shaftesbury, I verily be-
lieve you are the wickedest dog in my domin-
ions.'' " Yes," replied Shaftesbury, " for a suh^
jecti I think I am."

There was a mischievous and unmanagea
ble goat in one of the palace court-yards, whose
name was Old Rowley, and the courtiers con-
■idered the boast as affording so just an emblem

254 Kin a Charles IL [166Si

Old Ilowley. The epitaph.

of the character of the king, that they gave the
king his name. Charles, instead of resenting
it, entered into the jest ; and one day, as he was
going into the apartment of some of the ladies,
he heard them singing a song, in which he fig-
ured ridiculously as the goat. He knocked at
the door. They asked who was there. "Only
Old Rowley," said the king.

The kmg's repartees were some of them real-
y good, and he obtained in his day the reputa-
tion of being quite a wit, while yet all his ac-
tions, and the whole of his management of his
affairs, were so utterly unwise and so wholly
unworthy of his station, that every one was
struck with the contrast. One of the wits of
his court one day wrote an epitaph for him,
over his door, as follows :

* Here lies our sovereign lord the king,
Whose word no man relies on,
Who never Raid a foolish thing,
And never did a wise one."

When the king came and saw this inscrip-
tion, he stopped to read it, and said, "Yes, that
is ver) true ; and the reason is, my doings are
those of my ministers, while my sayings are
my own."

Charles had, in fact, very little to do with

1662.] Character anu Ueign. 256

Charles's building plans. Sir Christopher W ran

the public affairs of his kingdom. He liked tc
build palaces and ships, and he expended vast
sums, not very judiciously, on these plans. Sii
Christopher Wren, the famous architect, p.air
ned one of these palaces, and Charles, when he
went to see it, complained that the rooms were
too small. Sir Christopher walked about with a
self-important air, looking up at the ceiling, and
said that he thought they were hig-h enough.
Sir Christopher was very small in stature.
Charles accordingly squatted down as well aa
he could, to get his head in as low a position
as the architect's, and walked about the room
in that ridiculous attitude, looking up in mim-
icry of Sir Christopher's manner, and then said,
" Oh, yes, now I think they are high enough."
These building plans, and other similar un-
dertakings, together with the vast amounts
which the king lavished upon his numerous fe-
male favorites, exhausted his resources, and kept
him in continual straits for money. He was al-
ways urging Parliament to make new grants,
and to lay more taxes, until, as he said himself,
he was ashamed to look his Parliament in tho
face, he was so continually begging them for
supplies. The people caricatured him by the rep-
resentation of a poverty-stricken man, with hia

856 King Charles II. [1662

Caricatures of the king. Tlic tiiief in the palace

pockets turned inside out, and begging money
A-t another time the caricature took the form
>f a man led along against his will by two wom-
en, and threatened by a third, wearing all the
time a countenance expressive of helplessness
and distress.

The king bore all these things with the ut-
most good nature, satisfied, apparently, if he
tjould only enjoy the pleasures of dissipation and
vice, and continue, in his palaces, a perpetual
round of reckless merriment and fun. Some
of the stories which are gravely told by the his-
torians of the day are scarcely credible. For
instance, it is said that a thief one day found
his way, in the guise of a gentleman, into one
of the royal drawing-rooms, and contrived to
get a gold snuff-box out of the pocket of one of
the noblemen there. Just as he had success-
fully accomplished his object, unobserved, as he
supposed, he looked up, and saw the king's eyes
fastened upon him. Knowing his majesty's
character, the thief had the piesence of mind to
give him a wink, with a sly gesture enjoining
secrecy. The king nodded assent, and the thief
went away with his prize. When the noble-
man missed his snuff-box, the king amused him-
self some time with his perplexity and surprise,

1662.] Character and Ueign. 2(y/

Charle«'c government The three great calamities

and then told him that it was of no use ioi him
to search foi his snuff-box, for a thief had gone
off with it half an hour ago. " I saw him,"
said the king, with a countenance full of fun,
"but I could not do any thing. The rascal
made me his confidant, and, of course, you know,
I could not betray him."

Under the government of such a sovereign,
it could not be expected that the public affairs
of the realm would have gone on very prosper-
ously. Still, however, they might have been
conducted with ordinary success by his minis-
ters, and perhaps they were, in fact, managed
as well as was usual with the governments of
Europe in those days. It happened, however,
that three great public calamities. occurred, all
of a most marked and signal character, which
were, perhaps, not owing at all to causes for
which Charles was responsible, but which have
nevertheless connected such associations in
men's minds with this unfortunate reign, as
that Englishmen have since looked back upon
it with very little pleasure. These three ca-
lamities were the plague, the fire, and the
Dutch invasion.

There have been a great many seasons of
plague in London, all inconceivably dreadful;
R

^58 King Charles 11. (1^62

CoDcKtion of London. Filth and wretchedneaa

but as King Charles's fire was first among con-
flagrations, so his plague was the greatest pes-
tilence that ever ravaged the city. London
was, in those days, in a condition which ex-
actly adapted it to be the easy prey of pestilence,
famine, and fire. The people were crowded to-
gether in vast masses, with no comforts, no
cleanliness, no proper organization. The enor-
mous vegetable and animal accumulations of
such a multitude, living more like brutes than
men, produced a continual miasma, which pre-
pared the constitutions of thousands for any in-
fection which might chance to light among them.
Pestilence is, in fact, the rude and dreadful rem-
edy which nature provides for the human mis-
ery which man himself can not or will not cure.
When the dictates of reason and conscience are
neglected or disobeyed, and the ills which they
might have averted sink the social state into a
condition of degradation and wretchedness so
great that the denser accumulations of the peo-
ple become vast and corrupted swarms of verm-
in instead of organized communities of men, then
plague and fever come in as the last resort — half
remedy, half retribution — devised by that mys-
terious principle which struggles perpetually for
the preservation of the human race, to thin off

1665.1 Character ano Reign. 259

ITie great plague. Scenes of horror

the excessive accumulation by destroying a por-
tion of the surplus in so frightful a way as to
drive away the rest in terror.

The great plague of London took place in
1665, one year before the fire. The awful
scenes which tlie whole city presented, no pen
can describe. A hundred thousand persons are
said to have died. The houses where cases of
the plague existed were marked with a red
cross and shut up, the inmates being all fasten-
ed in. to live or die, at the mercy of the infec-
tion. Every day carts rolled through the oth-
erwise silent and desolate streets, men accom-
panying them to gather up with pitchforks the
dead bodies which had been dragged out from
the dwellings, and crying " Bring out your
dead" as they went along.* Thousands went

* Sometimes the living were pitched into the cart by mi*
lake instead of the dead. There is a piece of sculpture in
the Tottenham Court-road in London intended to commemo-
rate the following case. A Scotch piper, who had been wan
dering in homeless misery about the streets, with nothing but
his bagpipes and his dog, got intoxicated at last, as such men
always do, if they can, in times of such extreme and awful
danger, and laid down upon the steps of a public building and
went to sleep. The cart came along in the night, by torch-
light, and one of the men who attended it, inserting the point
of his fork under the poor vng;ibond'8 belt, tossed him into
tb^ cart, bagpipes and all. The dog did all he could to d©-
leod bis master, but in vam. The cart went thundering oa.

260 King Charles II. 11C65

Dreadful effecta of the plague. Mode of buying

mad with their uncontrollable terror, and roam-
ed about the streets in raving delirium, killing
themselves, and mothers killing their children,
in an insane and phrensied idea of escaping by
that means, somehow^ or other, from the dread-
ful destroyer.

Every body whose reason remained to them
avoided all possible contact or communication
with others. Even in the country, in the ex-
change of commodities, a thousand contrivan-
ces were resorted to to avoid all personal con-
nection. In one place there was a stone, where
those who had any thing to sell placed their
goods and then retreated, while he who wished
to buy came up, and, depositing his money on
the stone in the place of the merchandise, took
what he had thus bought away.

the men walking along by its side, examining the ways for
new additions to their load. The piper, half awakened by
the shock of his precipitation into the cart, and aroused still
more by the joltings of the road, sat up, attempted in vain to
rally his bewUdered faculties, looked about him, wondering
where he was, and then instinctively began to play. The
men, astonished and terrified at such sounds from a cart load-
ed with the dead, fled in all directions, leaving the cart in
♦he middle of the street alone.

What a mysterious and inconsistent principle is fear. Hera
are men braving, unconcerned and at their ease, the most ab-
•olutely appalling of all possible human dangers, and yet tee
rified out of their senses at an unexpected suund.

1666.] Character and Reign. 263

The great fire. Terrific scene.

The great fire took place in 1666, about a
year after the plague, and burned a very large
part of London. It commenced accidentally in
a baker's shop, where a great store of fagots had
been collected, and spread so rapidly among the
buildings which surrounded the spot that it wag
soon entirely beyond control. The city of Lon-
don was then composed of an immense mass of
mean buildings, crowded densely together, with
very narrow streets intervening, and the wind
carried the flames, with inconceivable rapidity,
far and wide. The people seemed struck uni-
versally with a sense of terror and despair^ and
nothing was to be heard but shrieks, outcries,
and wild lamentations. The sky was one vast
lurid canopy, like molten brass, day and night,
for four days, while the whole city presented a
scene of indescribable and awful din ; the crack-
ing and thundering of the flames, the phren-
sied screams of the women and children, the
terrific falling of spires, towers, walls, and lofty
battlements, the frightful explosions of the hous-
es, blown up by gunpowder in the vain hopo
of stopping the progress of the flames, all form-
ed a scene of grandeur so terrific and dreadful,
that they who witnessed the spectacle were
haunted by the recollection of it long afterward,

264 King Charles II. [1667.

Hie monoment. The Dutch Invasloiv

as by a frightful dream. A tall monument
was built upon the spot where the baker's shop
stood, to commemcrate the calamity. The fire
held, in fact, in the estimation of mankind, the
rank of the greatest and most terrible of all con-
flagrations, until the burning of Moscow, in the
time of Napoleon, in some degree eclipsed its
fame.

The Dutch invasion was the third great ca
lamity which signalized King Charles's unfor-
tunate reign. The ships of the enemy came up
the Thames and the Med way, which is a branch
of the Thames ; they took possession of a fort
at Sheerness, near the mouth of the river, and,
after seizing all the military stores, which had
been collected there to an enormous amount,
they set fire to the powder magazine, and blew
up the whole fortress with a terrific explosion.
The way was now open to them to London, un-
less the English could contrive some way to ar-
rest their progress. They attempted to do this
by sinking some ships in the river, and drawing
a strong chain across from one sunken vessel
to the other, and fastening the ends to the shores.
The Dutch, however^ broke through this ob-
gtruction. They seized an opportunity when the
H4e was setting strongly up the river^ ajad «

Tllr. M(;Nl MKNT,

1667 j Character and Reign. 267

The Royal Oak. Attempts to stop the Dutch

fresh wind was blowing ; their ships, impelled
thus by a double force, broke through the chains,
passed safely between the sunken ships, and
came on in triumph up the river, throwing the
city of London into universal consternation.
There were several English ships of war, and
several Dutch ships, which had been captured
and brought up the Thames as prizes, lying in
the river ; these vessels were all seized by the
Dutch, and burned; one of the English ships
which they thus destroyed was called the Royal
Oak*

Of course, there was now a universal scene
of confusion and terror in London. Every body
laid the blame of the calamity upon the king ;
the money which he had received for building
ships, and other national defenses, he had squan-
dered, they said, upon his guilty pleasures ;
then the war, which had resulted in this inva-
sion, was caused by the political mismanage-
ment of his reign. While the people, however,
thus loudly condemned the conduct of their mon-
arch, they went energetically at work to arrest
the progress of their invaders ; they sunk other
ships in greater numbers, and built platforms,
on which they raised batteries of cannon. At

* See Frontispiece.

268 King Charles IL [1678.

Oates'e Popish Plot. ITie king a philosopbi

length the further progress of the enemy was
stopped, and the ships were finally compelled to
retire.

Among the other events which occurred dur
mg the reign of King Charles the Second, and
which tended to connect unfavorable associa-
tions with the recollection of it in the minds of
men, was a very extraordinary affair, which is
known in history by the name of Titus Oates'f
Popish Plot. It was the story of a plot, said to
have been formed by the Catholics, to put King
Charles to death, and place his brother James,
who, it will be recollected, was a Catholic, upon
the throne in his stead. The story of this plot
was told by a man named Titus Gates, and as
it was at first generally believed, it occasioned
infinite trouble and difficulty. In after times,
however, the whole story came to be regarded
as the fabrication of Gates, without there being
any foundation for it whatever ; hence the name
of Titus Gates's Popish Plot, by which the af
fair has always since been designated in historj
The circumstances were these :

Among his other various accomplishments,
King Charles was quite a chemist and philoso-
pher. He had a laboratory where he amused
himself with experiments, having, cf course,

1678.] Character and Reign. 269

Klrby Foundation of the Royal Society

several persons associated with him, and attend-
ant upon him in these researches. Among tliese
was a man named Kirby. Mr. Kirby was an
intelligent man, of agreeable manners, and of
considerable scientific attainments. Charles de-
voted, at some periods of his life, a consider-
able portion of his time to these researches in
experimental philosophy, and he took, likewise,
an interest in facilitating the progress of others
in the same pursuits. There was a small so-
ciety of philosophers that was accustomed fa
meet sometimes in Oxford and sometimes in
London. The object of this society was to pro-
vide apparatus and other facilities for making
experiments, and to communicate to each other
at their meetings the result of their investiga-
tions. The king took this society under his
patronage, an*^ made ir^ as it were, his own
He gave it tlie name of The Royal Societv,
and granted it a charter, by which it was incor-
porated as a permanent organization, with the
most ample powers. This association has since
become one of the most celebrated learned so-
cieties in the world, and its establishment is one
of the very few transactions of King Charles's
reign which have ba^n since remembered with
pleasure.

270 King Charles II. [1678.

Kirby's warning. The king's in iifTerencfV

But to return to Mr. Kirby. One day, when
the king was walking in the park with a part}'
of companions and attendants, who were sepa-
rated more or less from him, as was usual on
such occasions, Mr. Kirby came up to him, and,
with a mysterious and earnest air, begged the
. king not to allow himself to be separated from
the company, for his life, he said, was in dan-
ger. " Keep with your company, sir," said he ,
" your enemies have a design upon your life
You may be suddenly shot on this very walk."
Charles was not easily frightened, and he re-
ceived this announcement with great compos-
ure. He asked an explanation, however, and
Mr. Kirby informed him that a plot had been
formed by the Catholics to destroy him ; that
two men had been engaged to shoot him ; and,
to make the result doubly sure, another ai-
rangement had been made to poison him. The
queen's physician was the person, he said, who
was charged with this latter design. Mr. Kirby
said, moreover, that there was a clergyman, Dr.
Tong, who was fully acquainted with all tho
particulars of the plot, and that, if the king
would grant him an interview that evening, he
would make them all known.

The king agreed to this, and in the evening

1678.] Character and Reig/^. 271

)r. Tang's Interview with the king. State of the public mind

Dr. Tong was introduced. He had a budget of
papers which he began to open and read, but
Charles had not patience to hear them ; his mind
was full of a plan which he was contemplating
of going to Windsor the next day, to look at
gome new decorations which he had ordered foi
several of the apartments of the palace. He did
not believe in the existence of any plot. It is
true that plots and conspiracies were very com-
mon in those days, but false rumors and un-
founded tales of plots were more common still.
There was so much excitement in the minds of
the community on the subject of the Catholic
and Protestant faith, and such vastly extended
interests depended on whether the sovereign be-
longed to one side or the other on this question,
that every thing relating to the subject was in-
vested with a mysterious awe, and the most
wonderful stories were readily circulated and
believed. The public mind was always partic-
ularly sensitive and excitable in such a case as
that of Charles and his brother James at the
time of which we are writing, where the reign-
ing monarch, Charles, was of one religious faith>
and his trother James, the next heir, was of
the other. The death of Charles, which might
at any time take place, would naturally lead to

272 King Charles II. [1678.

Dr. Tong referred to Danby. Danby's view of the plot

a religious revolution, and this kept the whole
community in an exceedingly excitable and
feverish state. There was a great temptation
to form plots on the one hand, and a great eager-
ness to discover them on the other ; and any
man who could tell a story of treasonable
schemes, whether his tale was true or fabrica-
ted, became immediately a personage of great
importance.

Charles was well aware of these things, and
was accordingly disposed to pay very little at-
tention to Dr. Tong's papers. He said he had
no time to look into them, and so he referred
the whole case to the Lord Treasurer Danby,
an officer of his court, whom he requested to
examine into the affair. Dr. Tong, therefore,
laid his papers before Danby, while the king
went off the next day to Windsor to examine
the new fresco paintings and the other decora*
tions of the palace.

Danby was disposed to regard the story in a
ver) different light from that in which it had
appoarea to the king. It is said that there
were some charges about to be brought forward
against himself for certain malpractices in his
office, and that he was very much pleased, ac-
cordingly, at the prospect of having something

1678.] Character and Reign. 273

Dr. Tang's story. Titus Gates. A seoond intemew.

come up to attract public attention, and turn it
away from his own misdemeanors. He listen-
ed, therefore, with great interest to Dr. Tong's
account of the plot, and made many minute
and careful inquiries. Dr. Tong informed him
that he had himself no personal knowledge of
the conspiracy ; that the papers, which contain-
ed all the information that he was possessed of,
had been thrown into the hall of his house from
the front door, and that he did not certainly
know by whom, though he suspected, he said,
one Titus Oates, who had formerly been a Cath-
olic priest, and was still so far connected with
the Catholics as to have very favorable oppor-
tunities to become acquainted with their designs.
Soon after this Dr. Tong had another inter-
view with the lord treasurer, and informed
him that his surmise had proved true ; that it
was Titus Oates who had drawn up the papers,
and that he was informed in regard to all the
particulars of the plot, but that he did not dare
to do any thing openly in revealing them, for
fear that the conspirators would kill him. The
lord treasurer communicated the result of his
inquiries to the king, and urged the affair upon
his attention as one of the utmost possible im-
portance The king himself, however, wa»
S

2/4 K^iNG Charles II. [1678

The king's disbelief. Circulation of rumors

very skeptical on the subject. He laughed at
the lord treasurer's earnestness and anxiety.
The lord treasurer wished to have a meeting
of the council called, that the case might be laid
before them, but Charles refused. Nobody
should know any thing about it, he said, not
even his brother. It would only create excite-
ment and alarm, and perhaps put it into some-
body's head to murder him, though nobody at
present had any such design.

But, notwithstanding the king's determina-
tion not to give publicity to the story of the
plot, rumors of it gradually transpired, and be-
gan to excite attention. The fact that such
stories were in circulation soon came to the
knowledge of the Duke of York, and, of course,
immediately arrested his earnest attention. As
he was himself a Catholic, and the heir to the
crown, any suspicion of a Catholic plot formed
to dethrone his brother necessarily implicated
him. He demanded an examination into the
case. In a short time, vague but exaggerated
rumors on the subject began to circulate through
the community at large, which awakened, of
course, a very general anxiety and alarm. So
great was the vnulence of both political and
religious animosities in those days, that no

lt57S.J Character and Reign. 275

Sir EdmonlBbury Godfrey. The council meet

one knew to what scenes of persecution or of
massacre such secret conspiracies might tend
Oates, whose only object was to bring himself
into notice, and to obtain rewards for making
known the plot wliich he had pretended to dis-
cover, now found, to his great satisfaction, that
the fire v/hich he had kindled was beginning to
burn. The meetmg of the council was called,
and he was summoned to attend it. Before the
time arrived, however, he went to a justice of
the peace, and laid the evidence before him of
the existence of the conspiracy, ajid of all the
details respecting it wliich he pretended to have
discovered. The name of this justice was Sir
Edmondsbury Godfrey. A remarkable circum-
stance afterward occurred in respect to him, as
will presently be related, which greatly increas-
ed and extended the popular excitement in re-
lation to the pretended plot.

The plot, as Oates invented and detailed it,
was on the most magnificent scale imaginable.
The pope himself was at the head of it. The
pope, he said, had laid the subject before a so-
ciety of learned theologians at Rome, and they
had decided that in such a case as that of Eng-
land, where the sovereign and a majority of the
people had renounced the true religion, and giv-

276 King Charles II [1678

Particulars of the alleged conspiracy as stated by Oatos.

en themselves up to avowed and open heresy,
the monarch lost all title to his crown, and th«
realms thus fallen from the faith lapsed to the
pope, and were to be reclaimed by him by any
mode which it seemed to him expedient to adopt.
Under these circumstances, the pope had as-
sumed the sovereignty over England, and had
commissioned the society of the Jesuits — a very
powerful religious society, extending over most
of the countries of Europe — to take possession
of the realm ; that, in the prosecution of this
plan, the king was to be assassinated, and that
a very large sum of money had been raised and
set apart, to be paid to any person who would
kill the king ; that an offer of ten thousand
pounds had been made to the queen's physician
if he would poison him. The physician had in-
sisted upon fifteen thousand for so great a serv-
ice, and this demand had finally been acceded
to, and five thousand had actually been paid
hii_" in advance. Besides the murder of the
king, a general assassination of the Prote^tant9
was to take place. There were twenty thou-
sand Catholics in London, for instance, who, ac-
cording to Oates's account of the plan, were to
rise on a preconcerted night, and each one was
to kill five Protestants, which it was thought

1678.] Character and Reign. 277

Dates contradicts himself. Increasing excitement

they could easily do, as the Protestants would
be taken wholly by surprise, and would be un-
armed. The revolution being thus effected, the
crown was to be offered to Charles's brother, the
Duke of York, as a gift from the pope, and, if
he should refuse to accept it on such conditions
as the pope might see fit to impose, he was him-
self to be immediately assassinated, and some
other disposal to be made of the kingdom.

Gates was examined before the council very
closely, and he contradicted himself so much,
and made so many misstatements about absent
persons, and the places where he pretended that
certain transactions had taken place, as to prove
the falseness of his whole story. The public,
however, knew little or thought little of these
proofs. They hated the Catholics, and were ea-
ger to believe and to circulate any thing which
tended to excite the public mind against them.
The most extravagant stories were accordingly
circulated, and most excessive and universal
fears prevailed, increasing continually by the
mfluence of mutual action and reaction, and of
sympathy, until the whole country was in a
state of terror. A circumstance now occurred
which added tenfold to the excitement, and pro-
duced, in fact, a general consternation.

278 King Charles 11. [1678

Mysterious death of Godfrey. The panic increasea.

This circumstance was the sudden and mys-
terious death of Sir Edmondsbury Godfrey, the
justice who had taken the depositions of Gates
in respect to the conspiracy. He had been miss-
ing for several days, and at length his body was
found in a tren»h, by the side of a field, in a
solitary place not far from London. His own
sword had been run into his body, and was re.
maining in the wound. His watch and his
money were safe in his pocket, showing that he
had not been killed by robbers. This event
added greatly to the excitement that prevailed.
The story was circulated that he had been killed
by the Catholics for having aided in publishing
the discovery of their plot. They who wished
to believe Gates's story found in the justice's
deatli most ample confirmation of it. The body
was brought forward and exhibited to the pub-
lic gaze in a grand procession, which moved
through the streets of London ; and at the fu-
aeral guards were stationed, one on each side
of the preaclier, while he was delivering the fu-
neral discourse, to impress the people with a
sense of the desperate recklessness of Catholic
hate, by the implication that even a minister of
the Gospel, in the exercise of the most solemn
of his functions, was not safe without an effect-
ual f?uard.

1678.] Character and Reign. 279

New informers appear. The queen implicated.

From this time the excitement and commo-
tion went on increasing at a very rapid rate.
Oates himself, of course, became immediately a
man of great importance ; and to maintain him
self in his new position, he i"^"^'"ted continual-
ly new stories, each more tei___- than the pre-
ceding. New informers, too, began to appear,
confirming Oates's abatements, and adding new
details of their own, that they might share his
distinctions and rewards. These men became
continually more and more bold, in proportion
to the increasing readiness of the people to re-
ceive their inventions for truths. They accused
persons of higher and higher rank, until at last
they dared to implicate the queen herself in
their charges. They knew that, as she was a
Catholic, she was unpopular with the nation at
large, and as Charles had so many other lady
favorites, they concluded that he would feel no
interest in vindicating her from false aspersions.
They accordingly brought forward accusations
against the queen of having joined in the con-
spiracy, of having been privy to the plan of
murdering the king, and of having actually ar-
ranged and directed the assassination of the
justice. Sir Edmondsbury. These charges pro-
duced, of course, great excitement. The peo

280 King Charles II. [1678

Examination of witnesses. The king defends the queea

pie of the country were generally })redisposed to
believe them true. There were various inves«
tigations of them, and long-protracted examina.
tions of the witnesses before the council and
before judicial commissions appointed to inquire
into and decide upon the case. These inquisi-
tions led to debates and disputes, to crimina-
tions and recriminations without number, and
they threw the whole court and the whole nation
into a state of extreme excitement, some taking
sides against, and some in favor of the queen.
Although the popular sentiment was against
her, every fair and candid mind, that attended
carefully to the evidence, decided unhesitatingly
in her favor. The stories of the witnesses were
utterly inconsistent with each other, and in
many of their details impossible. Still, so great
was the public credulity, and so eager the desire
to believe every thing, however absurd, which
would arouse and strengthen the anti-Catholic
feeling, that the queen found herself soon the
object of extreme and universal odium.

The king, however, much to his credit, refus-
ed all belief of these accusations against Catha-
rine, and strongly defended her cause. He took
care to have the witnesses cross examined, and
to have the inconsistencies in their testimonyj
and the utter impossibility that their statements

IG78.] Character and Reign. 281

DisastrouB consequences of the plot Gates perishes miserably.

could be true, pointed out. He believed, he
said, that she was entirely innocent, and that
the whole plan was a conspiracy to effect her
destruction. " They think, I suppose," said the
king, "that I should like a new wife, but I will
not suffer an innocent woman to be wronged."
He also told one of the ministers of state, in
speaking of the subject, that, considering how
hardly he had treated his wife, and how much
reason she had for just complaints against him,
it would be an atrocious thing for him to aban-
don her in such an extremity.

A volume might be filled with stories of the
strange and exciting incidents that grew out of
this pretended popish plot. Its consequences
extended disastrously through many years, and
involved a vast number of innocent persons in
irretrievable ruin. The true character of Gates
and his accomplices was, however, at length
fully proved, and they themselves suffered the
fate at last which they had brought upon others.
The whole affair was a disgrace to the age
There is no circumstance connected with i1
which can be looked upon with any pleasure ex-
cept King Charles's fidelity to his injured wife
in refusing to abandon her, though he no longei
loved her. His defense of her innocence, in
volving, as it did. a continuance of the matri

282 Kino Charles IL [\67H

Motives of Charles In defending his wife. Hia general character

monial tie, which bound them together when all
the world supposed that he wished it sundered,
so^ms to have resulted from a conscienticus
sense of duty, and implies certain latent traits
of generosity and nobleness in Charles's charac-
ter, which, though ordinarily overpowered and
nullified by the influences of folly and vice, still
always seem to have maintained their hold, and
to come out to view from time to time, in the
course of the gay monarch's life, whenever any
emergency occurred sufficient to call them into
action.

The reign of King Charles the Second was
signalized by many other untoward and disas-
trous events besides those which we have enu-
merated. There were unfortunate wars, great
defeats in naval battles, unlucky negotiations
abroad, and plots and conspiracies, dangerous
and disgraceful, at home. The king, however,
took all these things very good naturedly, and
allowed them to interfere very little with his
own personal pleasures. Whatever troubles oi
embarrassments affected the state, he left the
anxiety and care which pertained to them to hia
ministers and his council, banishing all solici-
tude from his own mind, and enjoying himself
all the time with his experiments, his ladies, hia
dogs, and his perpetual fun.

.1685.] The Conclusion. 283

Suddenness of Charles's death. Hlfl remor««i

Chapter XIL
The Conclusion.

TIME rolled on, and the gay and pleasure-
loving king passed through one decade aft*
er another of his career, until at length he came
to be over fifty years of age. His health was
firm, and his mental powers vigorous. He look-
ed forward to many years of strength and ac-
tivity yet to come, and thus, though he had
passed the meridian of his life, he made no prep-
arations to change the pursuits and habits in
which he had indulged himself in his early years.
He died suddenly at last, at the age of fifty-
four. His death was almost as sudden as that
of his father, though in a widely different way.
The circumstances of his last sickness have
strongly attracted the attention of mankind, on
account of the manner in which the dying king
was affected, at last, by remorse at the recol-
lection of his life of reckless pleasure and sin,
and of the acts to which this remorse led him
upon his dying bed.

The vices and crimes of monarchs, like those

284 Kino Charles II. [1685.

Nature and origin of Charles's vicea. Ilie oonscientionaness.

of other men, may be distinguished into two
great types, characterized by the feelings of
heart in which they take their origin. Some
of these crimes arise from the malignant pas-
sions of the soul, others from the irregular and
perverted action of the feelings of kindness and
affection. The errors and follies of Charles,
ending at last, as they did, in the most atrocious
sins, were of the latter class. It was in feel-
ings of kindness and good will toward friends
of his own sex that originated that spirit of fa-
voritism, so unworthy of a monarch, which he
so often evinced ; and even his irregular and
unhallowed attachments of another kind seem
to have been not wholly selfish and sensual.
The course of conduct which he pursued through
the whole course of his life toward his female
companions, evinced, in many instances, a sin-
cere attachment to them, and an honest desire
to promote their welfare ; and in all the wild
recklessness of his life of pleasure and vice, there
was seen coming out continually into view the
influence of some conscientious sense of duty,
and of a desire to promote the happiness of
those around him, and to do justice to all.
These principles were, indeed, too feeble to
withstand the temptations by which they were

1685.J The CoNCLUf.ioN. 28^

Feeblenesi of Charles's principlet. Influence ol his mother

assailed on every side ; still, they did not cease
to exist, and occasions were continually occur-
ring when they succeeded in making their per-
suasions heard. In a word. King Charles's ci.
rors and sins, atrocious and inexcusable as they
were, sprang from ill-regulated and perverted
feelings of love and good will, and not from self-
ishness and hate ; from the kindly, and not from
the malignant propensities of the soul It is
very doubtful whether this is really any pallia*
tion of them, but, at any rate, mankind general-
ly regard it so, judging very leniently, as they
always do, the sins and crimes which have such
an origin.

It is probable that Charles derived whatever
moral principle and sensitiveness of conscience
hat he possessed from the influence of his moth-
er in his early years. She was a faithful and
devoted Catholic ; she honestly and firmly be-
lieved that the rites and usages of the Cathxlic
Church were divinely ordained, and that a care-
ful and honest conformity to them was the only
way to please God and to prepare for heaven.
She did all in her power to bring up her chil-
dren in this faith, and in the high moral and re-
ligious principles of conduct which were, in her
mind, indissolubly connected with it. She do-

286 King Charles II. [1685.

Mary de MedicL Extent and duration of maternal influence.

rived this spirit, in her turn, from her mother,
Mary de Medici, who was one of the most ex
traordinary characters of ancient or modern
times. When Henrietta Maria was married
to Charles I. and went to England, this Mary
de Medici, her mother, wrote her a letter of
counsel and of farewell, which we recommend
to our readers' careful perusal. It is true, we
go back to the third generation from the hero
of this story to reach the document, but it il-
lustrates so well the manner in which maternal
influence passes down from age to age, and
throws so much light on the strange scenes
which occurred at Charles's death, and is, more-
over, so intrinsically excellent, that it well mer-
its the digression.

The queen-mother, Mary de Medici, to the young Queen oj
England, Henrietta Maria.

"1625, June 25.
" My Daughter, — You separate from me, I can not sepa
rate myself from you. I retain you in heart and memory
and would that this paper could serve for an eternal memorial
to you of what I am ; it would then supply my place, and
speak for me to you, when I can no longer speak for myself
I give you it with my last adieu in quitting you, to impress it
the more on your mind, and give it to you written with my
own hand, in order that it may be the more dear to you, and
that it may have more authority with you in aU that regards
your conduct toward God, the king ynur husband, his sub-
jects, your domestics, and yourself. I t«ll you here sincerely.

1685.] The Conclusion. 287

Letter from Mary de Medici to her daughter Henrietta Maria.

«s in the last hour of our converse, all I should say to you in
the last hour of my existence, if you should be near me then.
I consider, to my great regret, that such can never be, and
that the separation now taking place between you and me for
a long time, is too probably an anticipation of that which if
to be forever in this world.

" On this earth you have only God for a father ; but, as he
is eternal, you can never lose him. It is he who sustains your
existence and life ; it is he who has given you to a great king;
It is he who, at this time, places a crown on your brow, and
will establish you in England, where you ought to believe
that he requires your service, and there he means to effect
your salvation. Remember, my child, every day of your life,
that he is your God, who has put you on earth intending you
for heaven, who has created you for himself and for his glory.

"The late king, your father, has already passed away;
there remains no more of him but a little dust and ashes, hid-
den from our eyes. One of your brothers has already been
taken from us even in his infancy; God withdrew him at his
own good pleasure. He has retained you in the world in or-
der to load you with his benefits ; but, as he has given you
the utmost felicity, it behooves you to render him the utmost
gratitude. It is but just that your duties are augmented in
proportion as the benefits and favors you receive are signal.
Take heed of abusing them. Think well that the grandeur
goodness, and justice of God are infinite, and employ all the
strength of your mind m adoring his supreme puissance, in
loving his inviolable goodness; and fear his rigorous equity,
which will make all responsible who are unworthy of his
benefits

" Receive, my child, these instructions of my lips ; begin
and finish every day in your oratory,* with good thoughts

• An oratory is a little closet furnished Bppropriately for
prajer and other exercises of devotion.

King Charles 11. [1686.

Letter frDtn Mary de Medici to her daughter Henrietta filarla.

and, in your prayers, ask resolution to conduct your life ac-
cording to the laws of God, and not according to the vanitiei
of this world, which is for all of us but a moment, in which
we are suspended over eternity, which we shall pass eithoi
'm the paradise of God, or in heh with the malign spirits who
fvork evil.

" Remember that you are daughter of the Church by bap
tism, and that this is, indeed, the first and highest rank w hick
you have or ever will have, since it is this which will give yoo
entrance into heaven ; your other dignities, coming as they do
from the earth, will not go further than the earth ; but those
which you derive from heaven will ascend again to theii
source, and carry you with them there. Render thanks to
heaven each day, to God who has made you a Christian ; es-
timate this first of benefits as it deserves, and consider all tha\
you owe to the labors and precious blood of Jesus our Savior;
it ought to be paid for by our sufferings, and even by our
blood, if he requires it. Offer your soul and your life to him
who has created you by his puissance, and redeemed you by
his goodness and mercy. Pray to him, and pray incessantly
to preserve you by the inestimable gift of his grace, and that
it may please him that you sooner lose your life than renounce
him.

" You are the descendant of St. Louis. I would recall to
you, in this my last adieu, the same instruction that he re-
ceived from his mother, Queen Blanche, who said to him often
' that she would rather see him die than to live so as to offend
God, in whom we move, and who is the end of our being '
It was with such precepts that he commenced his holy ca-
reer ; it was this that rendered him worthy of employing his
life and reign for the good of the faith and the exaltation of
the Church. Be, after his example, firm and zealous for re-
ligion, which you have been taught, for the defense of which
he, your royal and holy ancestor, exposed his life, and died
feithful to him among the infidels. Never listen to. or suffer

1685.] The Conclusion. 2«B

The king complaiDS of being unwell. Carousals in the palace.

to be said in your presence, aught in contradiction to your be-
lief in God and his only Son, your Lord and Redeemer. I
entreat the Holy Virgin, whose name you bear, to deign to be
the mother of your soul, and in honor of her who is mother
of our Lord and Savior, I bid you adieu again and many times.
" I now devote you to God forever and ever ; it is what 1
desire for you from the very depth of ray heart.

" Your very good and affectionate mother, Maria.
" From Amiens, the 10th of June, 1625."

The devout sense of responsibility to Al
mighty God, and the spirit of submission and
obedience to his will, which this letter breathes,
descended from the grandmother to the mother,
and were even instilled, in some degree, into
the heart of the son. They remained, however,
latent and dormant through the long years of
llie monarch's life of frivolity and sin, but they
revived and reasserted their dominion when the
end came.

The dying scene opened upon the king's vision
in a very abrupt and sudden manner. He had
been somewhat unwell during a certain day iu
February, when he was about fifty-four years
of age. His illness, however, did not interrupt
the ordinary orgies and carousals of his palace.
It was Sunday. In the evening a very gay as-
sembly was convened in the apartments, en-
gaged in deep gaming, and other dissolute and
vicious pleasures. The king mingled in thesi
T

290 King Charles il. [16So

The King struck with apoplexy. Mode of treatment

scenes, though he complained of being unw^U.
His head was giddy — his appetite was gone —
his walk was unsteady. When the party broke
up at midnight, he went into one of the neigh-
boring apartments, and they prepared for him
some light and simple food suitable for a sick
man, but he could not take it. He retired to
his bed, but he passed a restless and uneasy
night. He arose, however, the next morning,
and attempted to dress himself, but before he
finished the work he was suddenly struck by
that grim and terrible messenger and coadjutor
of death — apoplexy — as by a blow. Stunned
by the stroke, he staggered and fell.

The dreadful paroxysm of insensibility and
seeming death in a case of apoplexy is supposed
to be occasioned by a pressure of blood upon the
brain, and the remedy, according to the practice
of those days, was to bleed the patient immedi-
ately to relieve this pressure, and to blister or
cauterize the head, to excite a high external ac-
tion as a means of subduing the disease within.
It was the law of England that such violent
remedies could not be resorted to in the case of
the sovereign without authority previously ob«
tained from the counci'. They were guilty of
high treason who should presume to do so. This

1685.] The Conclusion. 291

Severe remedies. The queen faints

was a case, however, which admitted of no de
lay The attendants put their own lives at
hazard to serve that of the king. They bled
him with a penknife, and heated the iron for
the cautery. The alarm was spread throughout
the palace, producing universal confusion. Tho
queen was summoned, and came as soon as pos-
sible to the scene. She found her husband sit-
ting senseless in a chair, a basin of blood by his
side, his countenance death-like and ghastly,
while some of the attendants were attempting
to force the locked jaws apart, that they might
administer a potion, and others were applying
a red-hot iron to the patient's head, in a des-
perate endeavor to arouse and bring back again
into action the benumbed and stupefied sensi-
bilities. Queen Catharine was so shocked by
the horrid spectacle that she sank down in a
fit of fainting and convulsions, and was borne
immediately away back to her own apartment.
In two hours the patient's suspended facul-
ties began to return. He looked wildly about
him, and asked for the queen. They sent for
her. She was not able to come. She was,
however, so far restored as to be able to send a
message and an apology, saying that she was
very glad to hear that he was better, and was

292 King Charles II. [1685

The queen's message. Condition of the kin^

much concerned that she could not come to see
him ; she also added, that for whatever she had
done in the course of her life to displease him,
she now asked his pardon, and hoped he would
forgive her. The attendants communicated
this message to the king. " Poor lady !" said
Charles, " she beg my pardon ! I am sure J
beg hers, with all my heart."

Apoplexy fulfills the dread behest of its ter-
rible master Death by dealing its blow once with
a fatal energy, and then retiring from the field,
leaving the stunned and senseless patient to re-
cover in some degree from the first effect of the
stroke, but only to sink down and die at last
under the permanent and irretrievable injuries
which almost invariably follow.

Things took this course in the case of Charles
He revived from the stupor and insensibility
of the first attack, and lay afterward for several
days upon his bed, wandering in mind, helpless
in body, full of restlessness and pain, and je\
conscious of his condition. He saw, dimly
and obscurely indeed, but yet with awful cer-
tainty, that his ties to earth had been sudden-
ly sundered, and that there only remained to
him now a brief and troubled interval of mental
bewilderment and Dodily distress, to last for a

1685.] The Conclusion. 293

Confusion in the palace. The Duke of York. The quceu

few more hours or days, and then he must ap-
pear before that dread tribunal where his last
account was to be rendered ; and the vast work
of preparation for the solemn judgment was yet
to be made. How was this to be done ?

Of course, the great palace of "Whitehall,
where the royal patient was lying, was all in
confusion. Attendants were hurrying to and
fro. Councils of physicians were deliberating
in solemn assemblies on the case, and ordain-
\r.g prescriptions with the formality which roy-
al etiquette required. The courtiers were thun-
derstruck and confounded at the prospect of the
total revolution which was about to ensue, and
in which all their hopes and prospects might be
totally ruined. James, the Duke of York, see-
ing himself about to be suddenly summoned to
the throne, was full of eager interest in the pre-
liminary arrangements to secure his safe and
ready accession. He was engaged night and
day in selecting officers, signing documents,
and stationing guards. Catharine mourned in
her own sick chamber the approaching blow,
which was to separate her forever from her hus-
band, deprive her of her consequence and hei
rank, and consign her, for the rest of her days,
to the pains and sorrows, and the dreadful sol«

294 King Charles 11. |16«5

The king's female intimates. Anxiety of the natioii,

itude of heart which pertains to widowhood.
The king's other female intimates, too, of whom
there were three still remaining in his court
and in his palace, were distracted with real
grief. They may have loved him sincerely ;
they certainly gave every indication of true af-
fection for him in this his hour of extremity.
They could not appear at his bedside except
at sudden and stolen interviews, which were
quickly terminated by their being required to
withdraw ; but they hovered near with anxious
inquiries, or else mourned in their apartments
with bitter grief. Without the palace the ef-
fects were scarcely less decisive. The tidings
spread every where throughout the kingdom,
arresting universal attention, and awakening
an anxiety so widely diffused and so intense as
almost to amount to a terror. A Catholic mon-
arch was about to ascend the throne, and no
one knew what national calamities were im-
pending.

In the mean time, the dying monarch lay
helpless upon his bed, in the alcove of his apart-
ment, distressed and wretched. To look back
upon the past filled him with remorse, and the
dread futurity, now close at hand, was full of
images of terror and dismay. He thought of

1685.] The Conclusion. 29f

Charles's distress of mind. His anxieties and fears

his wife, and of the now utterly irreparable in-
juries which he had done her. He thought of his
other intimates and their nunterous children,
and of the condition in which they would be left
by his death. If ho had been more entirely
sensual and selfish in his attachments, he would
have suffered less ; but he could not dismiss
these now wretched participators in his sins
from his mind. He could do very little now to
promote their future welfare, or to atone for the
injury which he had done them ; but his anxie-
ty to do so, as well as his utter helplessness in
accomplishing his desire, was evinced by his
saying, in his last charge to his brother James,
just before he died, that he hoped he would be
kind to his children, and especially not let poor
Nelly starve.*

Troubled and distressed with these thoughts,
and still more anxious and wretched at the pros-
pect of his own approaching summons before the
bar of God, the fallen monarch lay upon his dy-
ing bed, earnestly desiring, but not daring to
ask for, the only possible relief which was now
left to him, the privilege of seeking refuge in
the religious hopes and consolations which his

• Eleanor Gwyn. She was an actress when Charles finsf
became acquaiated \«nth her.

296 King Charles II. [1685

Charles's attachment to the Catholic- faith. The Church of Kngland

mother, in years now long gone by, had vainly
attempted to teach him to love. The way of
salvation through the ministrations and observ-
tnces of the Catholic service was the only way
of salvation that he could possibly see. It is
true that he had been all his life a Protestant,
but Protestantism was to him only a political
faith , it had nothing to do with moral account-
ability or preparation for heaven. The spirit-
ual views of acceptance with God by simple
personal penitence and faith in the atoning sac-
rifice of his Son, which lie at the foundation of
the system of the Church of England, he never
conceived of The Church of England was to
him a mere empty form ; it was the service of
the ancient Catholic faith, disrobed of its sanc-
tions, despoiled of its authority, and deprived
of all its spirit and soul. It was the mere idle
form of godless and heartless men of the world,
empty and vain. It had answered his purpose
as a part of the pageantry of state during his
life of pomp and pleasure, but it seemed a mock-
ery to him now, as a means of leading his wretch-
ed and ruined soul to a reconciliation with his
Maker. Every thing that was sincere, and
earnest, and truly devout, in the duties of pie-
ty, were associated in his mind with the rnera'

1685.] The Conclusion. 297

Charles wishes for a prieat. Difficulties in the way

-■ . — ...■ H

ory of his mother ; and as deatli drew nigh, he
longed to return to her fold, and to have a priest,
who was clothed with the authority to which
her spirit had been accustomed to bow, come
and be the mediator between himself and his
Maker, and secure and confirm the reconciliation.
But how could this be done? It was worse
than treason to aid or abet the tainting of the
soul of an English Protestant king with the
abominations of popery. The king knew this
very well, and was aware that if he were to
make his wishes known, whoever should assist
him in attaining the object of his desire would
hazard his life by the act. Knowing, too, in
what abhorrence the Catholic faith was held, he
naturally shrank from avowing his convictions ;
and thus deterred by the difficulties which sur-
rounded him, he gave himself up to despair, and
let the hours move silently on which were draw-
ing him so rapidly toward the grave. There
were, among the other attendants and courtiers
who crowded around his bedside, several high
dignitaries of the Church. At one time five
bishops were in his chamber. They proposed
repeatedly that the king should partake of the
sacrament. This was a customary rite to be
performed upon the dying, it being considered

298 Kino Charles II. [1685,

The queen's visits. Her great distresa

the symbol and seal of a final reconciliation
with God and preparation for heaven. When-
ever the propDsal was made, the king declined
cr evaded it. He said he was " too weak," or
* not now," or " there will be time enough yet ;"
and thus day after day moved on.

In the mean time, the anxious and unhappy
i[ueen had so far recovered that she came to
see the king, and was often at his bedside, watch-
ing his symptoms and mourning over his ap-
proaching fate. These interviews were, how-
ever, all public, for the large apartment in which
the king was lying was always full. There were
ladies of the court, too, who claimed the privi-
lege which royal etiquette accorded them of al-
ways accompanying the queen on these visits to
the bedside of her dying husband. She could
say nothing in private ; and then, besides, hei
agitation and distress were' so extreme, that she
was incapable of any thing like calm and con-
siderate action.

Among the favorite intimates of the king,
perhaps the most prominent was the Duchesa
of Portsmouth. The king himself had raised
her to that rank. She was a French girl, who
came over, originally, from the Continent with
a party of visitors from the French court. He?

1685.] The Conclusion. 299

The Duchess of Portsmouth. The French cmbassadoB

beauty, her wit, and her accomplishments soon
made her a great favorite with the king, and
for many years of his life she had exerted an
unbounded and a guilty influence over him.
She was a Catholic. Though not allowed to
come to his bedside, she remained in her apart-
ment overwhelmed with grief at the approach-
ing death of her lover, and, strange as it may
seem, she was earnestly desirous to obtain for
him the spiritual succors which, as a Catholic,
she considered essential to his dying in peace
After repeated and vain endeavors made in oth-
er ways to accomplish her object, she at length
sent for the French embassador to come to her
rooms from the king's chamber, and urged him
to do something to save the dying sinner's soul.
" He is in heart a Catholic," said she. "I am
sure he wishes to receive the Catholic sacra-
ments. I can not do any thing, and the Duke
of York is so full of business and excitement
that he does not think of it. But something
must be done."

The embassador went in pursuit of the Duke
of York. He toolv him aside, and with great
caution and secrecy suggested the subject.
" You are right," said the duke, " and there is
no time to lose." The duke went to the king's

800 King Charles 1 1. [1685,

The proposal to Charlca. Ho accepts it

chamber. The English clergymen had just
been offering the king the sacrament once more,
and he had declined it again. James asked
them to retire from the alcove, as he wished to
speak privately to his majesty. They did so,
supposing that he wished to communicate with
him on some business of state. " Sire," said
the duke to his dying brother, " you decline the
sacraments of the Protestant Church, will you
receive those of the Catholic ?" The counte-
nance of the dying man evinced a faint though
immediate expression of returning animation
and pleasure at this suggestion. "Yes," said
he, "I would give every thing in the world to
see a priest." "I will bring you one," said
James. "Do," said the king, "for God's sake,
do ; but shall you not expose yourself to danger
by it ?" "I will bring you one, though it cost
me my life," replied the duke. This conversa-
tion was held in a whisper, to prevent its being
overheard by the various groups in the roonL
The dulce afterward said that he had to repeat
his words several times to make the king com-
prehend them, his sense of hearing having ob-
viously begun to fail.

There was great difficulty in procuring e
priefct. The French and Spanish priests abou»

1685.] The Conclusion. 301

Father Huddleston. The disguisa

the court, who were attached to the service of
th i embassadors and of the queen, excused them-
selves on various pretexts. They were, in fact,
afraid of the consequences to themselves which
might follow from an act so strictly prohibited
by law At last an English priest was found.
His name was Huddleston. He had, at one
time, concealed the king in his house during
his adventures and wanderings after the battle
of Worcester. On account of this service, he
had been protected by the government of the
king, ever since that time, from the pains and
penalties which had driven most of the Catholic
priests from the kingdom.

They sent for Father Huddleston to come to
the palace. He arrived about seven o'clock in
the evening. They disguised him with a wig
and cassock, which was the usual dress of a
clergyman of the Church of England. As the
illegal ceremony about to be performed required
the most absolute secrecy, it became necessary
to remove all the company from the room. The
duke accordingly informed them that the king
wished to be alone for a short period, and he
therefore requested that they would withdraw
into the ante-room. When they had done so,
Father ?Iuddleston was brought in by a little

302

Kino Charles II.

[1685

The secret door.

A aolemn scetM

door near the head of the bed, which opened di-
rectly into the alcove where the bed was laid.
There was a narrow space or alley by the side
of the bed, within the alcove, called the ruelle ;*
with this the private door communicated direct-
ly, and the party attending the priest, entering,
stationed themselves there, to perform in secre-
cy and danger the last solemn rites of Catholic
preparation for heaven. It was an extraordi-
nary scene ; the mighty monarch of a mighty
realm, hiding from the vigilance of his own
laws, that he might steal an opportunity to es-
cape the consequences of having violated the
laws of heaven.

They performed over the now helpless mon-
arch the rites which the Catholic Church pre-
scribes for the salvation of the dying sinner.
These rites, though empty and unmeaning cer-
-emonies to those who have no religious faith in
them, are full of the most profound impressive-
ness and solemnity for those who have. The
priest, having laid aside his Protestant disguise,
administered the sacrament of the mass, which
was, according to the Catholic views, a true and

• Baelle is a French word, meaning little street or alloy
Thia way to the bed was the one so often referred to in tha
histories of those times by the phrase " the back stain "

1685.]. The Conclusion. 303

The confession. The pardon. The extreme unct*- tti

actual re-enacting of the sacrifice of Christ, to
enure to the special benefit of the individual
«GuI for which it was offered.' The priest then
received the penitent's confession of sin, ex-
pressed in a faint and feeble assent to the words
of contrition which the Church prescribes, and
this was followed by a pardon — a true and act-
ual pardon, as the sinner supposed, granted and
declared by a commissioner fully empowered by
authority from heaven both to grant and declare
it. Then came the " extreme unction," or, in
other words, the last anointing, in which a little
consecrated oil was touched to the eyelids, the
lips, the ears, and the hands, as a symbol and
a seal of the final purification and sanctifica.
tion of the senses, which had been through life
the means and instruments of sin. The extreme
unction is the last rite. This being performed,
the dying Catholic feels that all is well. Ilia
sins have been atoned for and forgiven, and ha
has himself been purified and sanctified, soul
and body. The services in Charles's case oc-
cupied three quarters of an hour, and then the
doors were opened and the attendants and com-
pany were admitted again.

The night passed on, and though the king'g
mind was relieved, he sufiered much bodily ago-

304 King Charles II. [1686

Charles asks to see the sun. His diatta.

ny. In the morning, when he perceived that
it was light, he asked the attendants to open the
curtains, that he might see the sun for the last
time. It gave him but a momentary pleasure,
for he was restless and in great suffering. Some
pains which he endured increased so much that
it was decided to bleed him. The operation re-
lieved the suffering, but exhausted the sufferer's
strength so that he soon lost the power of speech,
and lay afterward helpless and almost msensi-
ble, longing for the relief which now nothing
but death could bring him. This continual till
about noon, when he ceased to breathe.

The End.

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