This was the state of affairs when we heard that my mother had actually set sail from Holland and was making her way to the English coast. Moreover she was bringing with her one hundred and sixty attendants and servants, six coaches and seventy horses, which was a clear indication that she expected to be received in a manner worthy of a queen.
Charles was nonplussed. “But I have not invited her,” he cried in despair. “I have not given her permission to come here….”
I knew that he was thinking of what it was going to cost to house my mother and I hated to see the furrows in his brow, but what could I do? I went to him and slipped my arm through his while I looked up at him pleadingly. “I could never be happy if we turned her away,” I said. “She is my mother….”
He tried to explain to me the cost and the attitude of the people—but eventually I won. The fact that I was pregnant again made him very anxious not to upset me. He promised that he would go himself in state to meet her to show everyone that she came as an honored guest. I should prepare rooms for her and have three thousand pounds to spend on any alteration or new furniture which I deemed necessary. She was my mother and for that reason, naturally he must welcome her.
I hugged him and told him he was the most wonderful husband in the world and my mother would be so happy to see what a perfect marriage I had made.
He was as good as his word and set out for Chelmsford and I went to St. James’s, where the children had their apartments, and chose fifty rooms for my mother.
My baby was due in four months’ time and I was feeling heavy and tired but exhilarated by the thought of seeing my mother. I had told the children that she was coming and the elder ones were very interested. Charles was now aged eight and different from the others, with his black hair cut into a fringe which almost covered his black brows, under which his flashing dark eyes were the most lively I ever saw in a child of his age. Mary, only a year younger, was beautiful and so was James; Elizabeth was three and Anne only a baby. She had been born in March of the previous year and within a few months I had become pregnant again. And I was not thirty yet! I often wondered how many children I would have. I was happy to be the wife of an ardent and loving husband and to have produced a growing family but frequent childbearing was often taxing and I certainly did not feel well at this time.
However, I tried to forget my own discomforts and prepare for my mother. Riders came in breathlessly to tell me that she had had a good reception in London, that people had hung out banners in the streets and that the Lord Mayor in all the splendor of his office had greeted her. I was immensely relieved because one could never be sure of the people of London and, with all those horrid Puritans about, they might have decided to become hostile. But they did love pageantry and it may have been that they found that more entertaining than a stupid riot. But I liked to think they did homage to my mother as a woman who had once been Regent of France and was still mother of their Queen.
I heard the sound of trumpets which meant that the cavalcade was approaching St. James’s. Young Charles was right beside me and the others came toddling up. I hurried into the courtyard. I could not think of ceremony at such a moment.
I ran to my mother’s coach, the children at my heels, and I tried to pull open the door. One of the coachmen opened it for me and as my mother stepped out, I was so overcome with emotion that I dropped to my knees and begged her to give me her blessing.
With great joy I took her into the palace and showed her the apartments I had had made ready for her. I was rather shocked by her appearance. It was, after all, a long time since I had seen her. I had been the fortunate one. I had learned to love my husband and had made for myself a family life so felicitous that I could not believe many people were so blessed. Poor Queen Marie! She was sixty-five years old and her life during the last years had been very uncomfortable. She had never been beautiful and events, with the aid of time, had ravaged such looks as she had had. But I was quick to realize that the indomitable spirit had remained intact, and so had the determination to manage the lives of all those about her.
She talked incessantly. She was poor…yes poor! She, the Queen of France, now lived in abject poverty. She had her jewels…oh yes, she had been clever enough to bring those with her and it had occurred to her that she might have to sell some of them.
“I will buy them, dear Mother,” I cried. “That will give you some money and you will know the jewels are safe.”
She patted my arm. She said I was a good girl and as I was rich she would be glad to accept the money for the jewels and know that they were safe in the family.
I said: “I am not really rich, my lady. There is always trouble about money. There is never enough. Charles is always wanting money and unable to get it except by unpopular taxation.”
“The perpetual cry of Kings!” replied my mother. “Of course there is money, dear child. There always is in a country. It is a matter of knowing how to extract it. You shall have the jewels. I may not be here long, you know, to burden you.”
“Burden us!” I cried. “Dear Mother, how can you talk like that?”
“I did not mean I am going to die,” she replied. “I know you are pleased that I have come to be with you. It was far too long that we were apart, Henriette chérie. I will stay with you and help you. But I may be called back to France.”
“Do you think the Cardinal…”
“The Cardinal!” She spat out the words. “He is plagued by a terrible cough. He can’t keep warm. I hear he sits by the fire drinking that sickly strawberry syrup which is the only thing which gives his throat some relief. He crouches over the fire because he cannot keep warm. How long do you think he can last like that?”
“You really think he is desperately ill?”
“I know, my child. You don’t think I have been idle. I know what is going on. One advantage of being in exile is that one can send out one’s spies and no one can be absolutely sure who they are. There are always advantages in life, child.”
“I cannot understand my brother’s turning you away.”
“Oh, he is a weakling, Louis. He always was. He is guided by his wife and the Cardinal. He is nothing…a puppet…a cypher.”
“And the baby?”
She nodded, smiling. “A healthy boy. Another Louis.” She came close to me. “No, I shall not be here with you long, dear child. A breathing space, that’s all I need. My astrologers have told me that Louis cannot last more than a year or so. He is a sick man. He was never strong. And then when he is dead…can a baby rule? Little Louis XIV will be still in his nursery. Then it is for me to return and take over the reins as I did when your father died.”
“And this is the prophecy?”
“It is and I have had the best astrologers in Europe. Their verdict is always the same. So it would be advisable for your Charles to make me happy here. I could be of great importance to him later on.”
I was overawed. It all seemed so plausible and I had seen the evidence of astrologers and soothsayers. I should never forget Eleanor Davys and her prophecy about the first baby I had had.
My mother’s presence at Court did mean that I must spend a great deal of time with her, which gave me less time for my husband. She loved the children and was most impressed by Charles. She even liked his looks and said he had inherited them from some of my father’s ancestors—The Brigands of Navarre she called them.
“He has a look of your father,” she said. “Mon Dieu, how he reminds me! Quick, lively, eyes everywhere. Let us hope they do not linger on every woman in the vicinity as your father’s did. I had to shut my eyes to his infidelities and I did so without complaint…for the sake of the crown. You, my dear Henriette, have no such trouble with your husband. He seems a mild man…but devoted to you. There seems to be nothing but pregnancies for you. I know what that means. Your father always took time off from his lights of love to fill the royal nurseries. How different you are with your Charles. You are a very fortunate woman, Henriette.”