I was a little happier when I was installed in Somerset House. The Roundheads had actually occupied it and at first that made it distasteful to me. They had broken up the beautiful rooms but as was to be expected their most devastating work had been in my chapel; but a great deal of reconstruction had been done and I began to take an interest because I was introducing my own designs. I had the ceilings exquisitely painted and chandeliers of gilded brass installed. It was becoming magnificent and I was able to live there royally. I had crimson silk hung at the windows and beautiful screens made to keep out the draughts which blew in from the river. There was one room with a domed roof overlooking gardens which ran down to the river and from this there was a private staircase which led to a room where I could take hot and cold baths. Gardeners had set to work in the grounds, making paths down to the river so that I could walk without getting my feet muddy. I wanted to make it as different as it possibly could be from when those men had filled it with their ugly presence.
Then I had my household with my dear Henry Jermyn, Lord St. Albans, as Chancellor, at the head of it; I had my Gentlemen of Music, Master of Games and Buckhounds and Bows. Whenever I went out it was in my Sedan chair or coach and I was accompanied by my halberdiers in black cassocks with embroidered gold badges; I had my twelve liveried bargemen to row me when I decided to travel by river. I lived royally. I thought I owed that to myself and to Charles. I wanted to wipe out forever the indignities I had suffered; and for so long I had lived parsimoniously saving everything I could to bring back the King to England.
Well, now it was done and it was my turn to enjoy luxury, to remind myself that I was no longer a poor relation. I was a royal Queen and now I would live like one.
I was very much in debt when Somerset House was finished and that disturbed me a little. Then I saw that it gave me an excuse to live quietly which I had discovered was what I wanted.
Many people came to see me and boats were constantly passing along the river. I gave concerts and in summer evenings the strains of sweet music would float along the river. There was always plenty to see from my windows because there was so much activity on the river. I was finding that I could be much happier if I did not allow myself to be tempted to tell people how they should act. I enjoyed my new role—observer rather than participator. Henry Jermyn agreed with me. When I looked back I realized that he had always been like that. Perhaps that was why he was a happy man. He had become fat and suffered from gout but he was the dearest companion and I enjoyed his company better than that of any other person.
I rarely made a decision now without first consulting him. I suppose that was why there were rumors about us. There were many who were absolutely sure that we were married. Some even credited me with having had a child by him. We laughed together at these rumors but we took no heed of them and continued to enjoy our pleasant relationship.
The Duchess of York had a daughter. She was called Mary and it seemed as though she, unlike her brother who had lived only a few months, would survive. I did hope so. It is so tragic when children cannot seem to get a grip on life and I had to agree that Charles was right when he had said that Anne was a good woman. Unfortunately James had tired of her and he had his mistresses just like his brother. Their behavior really did give the Court a reputation for immorality. But it was none of my business. I had learned to hold myself aloof from it now. I was still wondering how I could get back to Chaillot and Colombes. I longed to see Henriette and my good friend Queen Anne.
Because poor Queen Catherine did not seem to be able to get a child, Charles created James Crofts Duke of Monmouth. It was in a way an insult to Catherine, calling attention to the fact that the fault must be hers as he could get a handsome healthy boy like James Crofts from another woman.
There was a great deal of speculation about Charles’s making Monmouth his heir. He would have had to legitimize him for that but I supposed he could easily do so.
Nothing came of that. Charles had a habit of shelving controversial matters and when I think how he came through I wonder whether that is not the wisest way.
Lady Castlemaine, I was glad to see, was losing her hold on him, which must have been good news for Catherine, but he was obsessed by a new beauty—Frances Stuart. It would always be like that with Charles and I wished Catherine could accept that fact. But it was difficult for her and I knew full well that had I been young again and in her place I should never have done so. I daresay I would have made his life a misery. He would never have had that calm resignation from a woman like me.
The winter which began in 1664 and went on into 1665 was a cold one. I became ill and had to take to my bed for a long time. My doctors told me that I should get out of England if possible and that was my excuse.
I begged Charles not to close my chapel if I left and he promised he would not do so and he was most eager for me to take the waters at the Bourbon springs which had been so beneficial to me before.
War with the Dutch had broken out and I was deeply concerned about that. Charles said that the French might decide to join with the Dutch and he believed that I might do good work for him in France, so I think he was rather glad that I was going. There was another matter. There had been some cases of plague in London and he feared if the summer was hot they might increase.
There were several good reasons why I should go besides my health.
I was due to leave at the end of June but before I left there came news of a great sea battle in which my son James had defeated the Dutch. James was the hero of the hour but I was afraid for him and begged Charles not to allow him to expose himself too rashly. There was something very rash about James which his impetuous marriage had proved.
As I sailed down the Thames I wondered if I should ever come back.
So there I was—after another dismal sea crossing—back in my native country. My spirits rose as soon as I set foot in it, but there was bad news awaiting me. Henriette was very ill. She had heard a false rumor that her brother James had been killed in battle and the shock had brought about the premature birth of the child she was carrying. She was delighted to see me and I do believe that my arrival helped to pull her through. She was far from happy and I began to wonder whether great titles were worth all one had to pay for them. I had found a crown and a happy marriage although it had ended in tragedy, but all through that marriage Charles and I had meant everything to each other.
I thought of Charles and his poor little Queen who had to accept his mistresses and could not get the child she longed for. I thought of James and Anne Hyde who had married so romantically and were now no longer in love; I thought most of all of Henriette who had married Philippe, Duc d’Orléans, brother of the King of France, and who was the most wretched of them all.
She confided to me that Philippe flew into jealous rages which were incomprehensible as he was not interested in her himself; but he simply could not bear her to enjoy the society of other men. Moreover he had brought his lover, the Chevalier of Lorraine, into the house and they conducted their amour openly for all to see and laugh at.
There was sad news from London. Two of my priests had died of the plague. The Court was no longer there and red crosses were put on the houses of the plague-stricken to warn people to keep away. Throughout the night the dismal knell of the death cart was heard in the deserted streets with the cry: “Bring out your dead.”
I went to see my old friend Queen Anne. She was in a desperate state and suffering excruciating pain for she had a malignant growth in her breast which she knew would kill her.