“That’s nonsense,” I cried.
“It is how it would be,” insisted the merchant. “And who would want to buy a crown like this? Who would wear it but a monarch?”
“You could break it up. The rubies are priceless.”
“Break up such a beautiful thing, my lady! You are asking me to break my heart.”
So they argued and the real reason was that if they bought those jewels they could be demanded back and a court of law would doubtless say they had no right to them. It was understandable from their viewpoint.
They were interested, though, in some of the smaller items. I knew I should not get a very high price for them but supposed anything was better than nothing.
My journey was not being a success and I was beginning to wonder what Charles was doing without me there to guide him. I know that sounds conceited and nonsensical too, considering the mistakes I had made, but much as I loved Charles I could not be blind to his weaknesses, and most of all the easy way in which he gave in when pressed. He needed me there to make him stand firm against his enemies.
It was a great blow to learn that Hull had declared against him and that when he had sent out little James to occupy the city in his name, the gates had been shut against him. Hull! That city where was stored the ammunition intended for the Scots!
“It is disaster all the time,” I said to the Countess of Denbigh. “We are the most unlucky people on Earth.”
A messenger came—not from Charles this time, but from someone on behalf of my mother. She was living in abject poverty in a small house in Cologne. Her attendants had all deserted her because for a long time she had been unable to pay their wages, and she had been forced to break up the furniture to burn in the grate because she suffered so much from the cold. She had little longer to live and she wanted to see me before she died.
I prepared to leave at once but was told that the visit would be frowned on by Holland for there was a strong republican feeling here and they did not like Queens. While I was hesitating another message came. My mother was dead.
Desolation hit me then. My mother—the wife of the great Henri IV, the Regent who had once ruled France, to die as a pauper! How could my brother have allowed that?
What was happening to everyone and everything around us? I could not believe that the world had grown into such a cruel place. There was another death which saddened me even more than that of my mother. It was years since I had parted from Mamie and during that time Charles had become of such importance in my life that my affection for him was greater than anything I could ever feel for another person. But I had loved Mamie dearly and always would. She had been the dearest companion of my childhood. And now she was dead.
I was stunned when I heard the news following so closely on the death of my mother.
Mamie was too young to die. Her life must have been very different after she had left me. Marriage…children…had she been happy? She had given me the impression that she had been but how could I be sure? And she had had little children. Dear Mamie, how she must have loved them and they her! She had become governess to Mademoiselle de Montpensier, who must have been a trying charge, and yet she was at Mamie’s bedside when she died and Mamie had commended her children to her for her last thoughts had been for them. She had remembered me too.
I wept bitterly. I should have been there. Dear Mamie, I thought. I hoped she had been as happy in her marriage as I had…but that was impossible for there was no man on Earth like Charles. Mamie had been so pleased that I had found happiness in marriage.
“Dearest Mamie,” I murmured. “Rest in peace and may God bless you.”
In the midst of my mourning for my mother and my dearest friend, there was one piece of good news. Messengers arrived from George Digby, Earl of Bristol, and Henry Jermyn. They wanted to join me but first wished to know if they would be welcome. I sent off at once to say I should be delighted to receive them.
“There is so much I could do with the help of trusted friends,” I wrote.
So they joined me and in spite of everything my spirits were lifted a little. I often thought how happy I could have been if Charles were with me and this was a state visit. With the Prince of Orange and his father away from the Court on military maneuvers there were not the same entertainments. Mary seemed to pine for her husband, which pleased me because I longed for my children to enjoy the happiness I had found in marriage—or should have done if our miserable enemies had allowed me to. Alas, there were not many men in the world like Charles.
Henry Jermyn did a great deal to cheer me. Digby did what he could but he was too fond of the sound of his own voice and was constantly declaiming about the wrongs of the Parliament and such matters which did not make him very popular. Henry Jermyn was different. He was merry and charming and somehow made me feel that everything was not as hopeless as it had seemed before his arrival.
The Princess of Orange gave birth to a daughter and I was asked to hold the child at the font and as a compliment to the new member of the family the child was to be given the name of Mary. But I held firmly to my convictions which could not allow me to be present at a Protestant church ceremony, so Mary took my place.
There were some—perhaps Henry Jermyn among them but he was too discreet to mention the matter—who thought that I should not have risked offending the Prince and Princess of Orange by refusing to take part in the ceremony, but nothing on Earth would induce me to go against my principles.
With the coming of Henry and Digby luck changed a little. I discovered that, though I could not sell the royal jewels, I could pawn them, for there were some merchants who were ready to advance large sums of money on the understanding that if the jewels were not redeemed by the payment of this money with interest they could legitimately claim them.
I was never one to think far ahead. I needed the money at that time and I needed it desperately and here was a chance of getting it. Ammunition, an army, ships…they were far more important to me than jewels.
Moreover the Prince of Orange who had publicly said he could not aid me, was less rigid in private. He was very proud of his connection with the royal family of England and did not want to see it become of less importance. Unobtrusively ships were beginning to slip across the North Sea and were lying at anchor in the river Humber. I was really becoming rather pleased with my mission after all. It had taken longer than I had anticipated and I had not done it in quite the manner which I had believed it would be done, but what did it matter as long as the mission was accomplished.
With what joy I wrote to Charles to tell him of my success, but whatever news we had for each other was always overshadowed by our declarations of love. I asked tenderly after his health and told him he must not worry. I was working with him. He was going to be surprised at what I was able to do. We should soon have those miserable Roundheads skulking away, hiding themselves in the country. I was longing to be in England, I told him. “Holland does not suit me. The air must be different from that of our land which you love because it is yours, and I for the same reason. I have pains in my eyes and my sight seems sometimes not so good. I think perhaps I have shed too many tears and they need the balm of seeing you since that is the only pleasure which remains in this world, for without you I would not wish to remain in it one hour.”
Rupert came to me one day at the end of August. He was wildly excited.
He said: “The King has set up his standard at Nottingham. I shall go and fight beside him. This is war.”
So it had come. I had known it would for some time, but to hear it was actually so was a great shock to me. I had to get back. I could not remain away any longer.