Charles said he would order that pen and paper be taken to Prynne in prison. “That will comfort him,” he said.
“And enable him to write more words directed against us?”
“Poor fellow! He has suffered” was all Charles said; and I agreed with him that he must let Prynne have pens and paper. He would have learned his lesson and not write any more against us I was sure.
Soon after Lucy had appeared to the company so dramatically without her mask a rather unusual contretemps sprang up between some of the notable men of the Court. I was particularly interested because it concerned a letter of mine and one of my favorite friends was involved.
This was Henry Jermyn who had always seemed to me a most amusing gentleman and we had found a great deal to talk about when we met for, although he was quite humble in station, he had most excellent manners. I felt at home with him, perhaps because he had spent a great deal of time in Paris, where he had been sent on an embassy. He was able to give me news of my family and to talk knowledgeably about the life I remembered so well from my girlhood.
Henry was very tall, inclined to be somewhat on the heavy side; he was as fair as I was dark, with a lazy look which I found diverting. Some years before he had been appointed to the post of Vice Chamberlain and before that he had represented Liverpool in Parliament.
He was an inveterate gambler and as different from Charles as one man could be from another. Everything Charles did must be right in his own eyes. I sensed at once that Henry would not have the same regard for duty but liked to do what was most comfortable to him and which did not demand too much effort. As I was equally lazy and pleasure-loving there was an immediate bond between us. He was the sort who slipped in and out of trouble with easy grace, usually relying on his charm to extricate him from anything which interfered too much with an easy life.
There had been a little trouble on the tennis courts of Whitehall when he accused one of the men of attacking him with tennis balls. Henry had become really violent for like many people who are not easily aroused, when he was he seemed to make up for his periods of quietness.
That was a small matter compared with two other scrapes which followed closely on each other and resulted in a term of imprisonment and then banishment.
The first incident rose through the new French ambassador, the Marquis de Fontenay-Mareuil, to whom I had taken an instant dislike as soon as he arrived to replace my dear Marquis de Châteauneuf, who had been in England for some three years. There was at Court at this time a very charming young man, the Chevalier de Jars, who had come into conflict with the devious Cardinal de Richelieu and been exiled. He had come to me and as I knew that Richelieu and my mother were now enemies, naturally I made the Chevalier welcome. He was young, handsome and charming; he danced beautifully and played tennis so well that Charles—who was an excellent player—enjoyed a game with him. I was glad to see my compatriot fitting in so well at Court.
There was one man whom I greatly disliked and that was Richard Weston, Earl of Portland, who was the Lord Treasurer. Now when I try to reason out why I disliked him so much, I suppose it was because Charles thought so highly of him and I could never forget Buckingham and what a hold he had had over the King, and I think I was always afraid that someone else would rise up and maneuver himself into a similar position. Moreover, Weston was always refusing to give me money and at times made me feel like a pauper. When I complained of this to Charles, he gave me his slow smile and said it was Weston’s duty to look after the exchequer and make sure there was always enough money for the country’s needs. I said that was all very well but need he be so parsimonious? In any case there was enough money for the country’s needs so why be so miserly about my little request.
Charles said that was female logic and kissed me.
However, I was not to be put off so easily and I talked to my friends like Lord Holland and the Chevalier de Jars about it.
The Marquis de Fontenay-Mareuil was aware that I confided in the Chevalier de Jars, and men such as he always imagine that conspiracies are being hatched. One day the Chevalier came to me in great distress. He told me that his chambers had been ransacked and his papers taken away.
I took him to Charles at once, who looked very grave and asked him who he thought was responsible for this action.
“I feel sure it is someone who wishes to do me harm,” said the Chevalier.
I said: “We must find this thief, Charles, and he must be punished.”
Charles said the best thing to do was summon the French ambassador. This he did and I begged to be present at the interview because I thought that it might be necessary to defend my dear friend, the Chevalier.
I was right. Not that there was much I could do; and the effect of this was a near quarrel between Charles and myself.
Fontenay-Mareuil was very haughty. He admitted at once that it was on his orders that de Jars’s chambers had been ransacked and his papers removed.
“This is stealing,” I cried out.
“Your Majesty,” replied the ambassador, turning to me and bowing, “I am in the service of his Gracious Majesty, King Louis, and it is on his orders that I investigate the actions of the Chevalier de Jars.”
Charles nodded, seeing the truth of this.
“I have therefore removed the Chevalier’s papers,” went on Fontenay-Mareuil, “and in view of the fact that he is now without them, it will be necessary for him to return to France.”
“For what reason?” I demanded.
“That, Your Majesty, will need to be discovered.”
He then asked Charles if anything more was required of him.
When he had gone I turned to my husband. “You are not going to let him tell lies about the Chevalier. He is a friend of mine.”
Charles spoke tenderly. “Oh, I know he dances very well and is a merry companion, but if he is working against his King he must answer for his actions.”
“But he is my friend.”
“He is first the subject of the King of France.”
“Does this mean he will be sent back to France?”
“He cannot stay here if he has no papers.”
“Why not?”
“Because they have been removed by the ambassador and I have no doubt that in a few days we shall hear from your brother that the Chevalier is to return to France.”
I begged and pleaded, but Charles said that much as he wanted to give me all I desired he could not interfere with matters of state, particularly between a King and a subject of another country.
“It is my country,” I cried.
But he reminded me that I was now English.
I felt my temper rising, but Charles looked so distressed, and I did not want to do anything to spoil our happy life together so I curbed my irritation and made up my mind that I would be wiser to be silent as long as I did everything I could to help my dear friend.
But there was little I could do, for within a week or so the Chevalier received orders from my brother to return to France. I was very worried about him for I was certain that the odious Fontenay-Mareuil would have told tales about him.
I was right for as soon as the Chevalier set foot in Paris he was arrested and sent to prison.
After that there was a series of arrests. Châteauneuf was sent to Angoulême and kept there; even the frivolous Duchesse de Chevreuse, who I believe had numbered Châteauneuf among her admirers, was sent into retirement. Not that she endured it long for in due course we heard that she had captivated her guards and with their help, dressed as a man, she escaped into Spain.
But that was later. Meanwhile I had to think of my dear Chevalier de Jars.
This was where the trouble started for I wrote to my brother, begging him to release the Chevalier and assuring him that the young man had never been anything but a good friend to France. Unfortunately Weston’s son, Jerome, was acting as a courier and had been sent to Paris with important papers to be delivered to Louis and on his way back to England with further communications he happened to spend the night at an inn where the courier taking letters to Paris was staying. They fell into conversation and Jerome, who took his duties very seriously and, as the son of his father, was well aware of plots against him, thought he was within his rights to examine the letters which were being taken to France.