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Full text of "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. 



4 






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