food, the oat-cakes, with the certainty of giving, delight to the gar rison. The queen remained at Oxford during the change of fortune that befel the king's cause. It was at the commencement of the year 1644 that the royalist poet, Davenant, addressed to her majesty some lines, which Pope imitated in his youth, when they were forgotten, and founded his early fame upon them. Perhaps their harmony was never surpassed in English verse. TO THE QUEEN AT OXFORD. "Fair as unshaded light, or as the day Of the first year, when every month was May, Than in their dreams forgiven votaries are But what, sweet excellence, what dost thou here?" This last line conveyed a question prompted by the delicate situation of the queen; Oxford was likely to remain no secure harbour for her in her approaching hour of peril and weakness. The king delayed the agonizing separation from his adored consort, till the approach of the parliamentary forces made a battle near Oxford inevitable. Previously to the battle of Newbury, so fatal to his cause, Charles I. escorted his beloved wife to Abingdon, and there, on the 3d of April, 1644, with streaming eyes and dark forebodings for the future, this attached pair parted, never to meet again on earth. The queen's first destination was Bath, where she sought the cure of an agonizing rheumatic fever, of that kind which is sharpened into intolerable acuteness by anxiety of mind. This complaint was called, in the phraseology of the day, a rheum, and thus the queen names it in the letter which announced her arrival at Bath. "My dear heart, QUEEN HENRIETTA MARIA TO KING CHARLES.2 Fred Cornwallis will have told you all our voyage (journey) as far as Abury, and the state of my health. Since my coming hither, I find myself ill, as well as in the ill rest I have, as in the increase of my rheum. "I hope this day's rest will do me good. I go to-morrow to Bristol, to send you back the carts; many of them are already returned. "Farewell, my dear heart, I cannot write more than that I am absolutely yours "Bathe, April 21, 1644." Nothing could be more calamitous than the queen's prospects in her approaching time of pain and weakness. I and sorrowful as she already was, she sought refuge in the loyal city of Exeter, where, amidst the horrors and consternation of an approaching siege, she was in want of everything. She took up her abode at Bedford House, in Exeter. The king had written to summon to her assistance his faithful household physi cian, Theodore Mayerne; his epistle was comprehended in one empha tic line in French. In the opening of his Pastorals. 'King Charles's Works and Letters, printed at the Hague, p. 266. The queen likewise wrote an urgent letter in French to Dr. May erre entreating him to come to her assistance, to the following effect: ' QUEEN HENRIETTA MARIA TO SIR THEODORE MAYERNE, "My indisposition does not permit me to write much, to entreat you to come to me if your health will suffer you; but my malady will, I trust, sooner bring you here than many lines. For this cause I say no more; but that, retaining always in my memory the care you have ever taken of me in my utmost need it makes me believe that. if you can, you will come, and that I am, and shall be ever, "Your good mistress and friend, "HENRIETTE MARIE R." There is great generosity of mind in this letter. The queen does not say, as many a one does who requires impossibilities in this exacting age, "Help me now, or all you have hitherto done will be of no use." But, in a nobler spirit, "If you cannot come to me in my extreme need, I shall still remain grateful for all your previous benefits." Such, we deem, offers a good instance of that ill-defined virtue, gratitude. The faithful physician did not abandon his royal patrons in the hour of their distress; he obeyed their summons, though we have reason to believe that he looked not with affection on the queen, deeming her religion one of the principal causes of the distracted state of England. Henrietta likewise wrote to her sister-in-law, the queen-regent of France, Anne of Austria, giving her an account of her distressed state. That queen, who was herself just set free, by death, from the tyranny of her husband's minister, cardinal Richelieu, was enabled to obey the impulses of her generous nature. She sent 50,000 pistoles, with every article needful for a lady in a delicate situation, and her own sage femme, madame Perronne, to assist Henrietta in her hour of trouble. Perhaps the best trait in the character of queen Henrietta occurs at this juncture; she reserved a very small portion of the donation of the queen of France for her own use, and sent the bulk of it to the relief of her distressed husband. Boundless generosity-a generosity occurring in the time of privation, was a characteristic of Henrietta. Meantime, sir Theodore Mayerne arrived at Exeter, May 28th; he travelled from London in the queen's chariot with sir Martin Lister. Although so faithful in his prompt attendance to the summons of his royal master, in behalf of the queen, he was rough and uncompromising enough in his professional consultations. The queen, feeling the agony of an overcharged brain, said, one day at Exeter, pressing her hand on her head, "Mayerne, I am afraid that I shall go mad some day." The original is in the Sloan MS., 1679, fol 71 b. The letter, printed in the original French, may be seen in Ellis's Historical Letters, Second Series, vel. ui. p. 315; likewise the letter of king Charles, ibid., p. 316. 'Ellis's Historical Letters, Second Series, vol. iii., p. 316. "Nay," replied the caustic physician, "your majesty need not fear going mad, you have been so some time." The queen, when she related this incident to madame de Motteville, mentioned the incident as Mayerne's serious opinion of her bodily health; but his reply is couched more like a political sneer than a medical opinion. The queen gave birth to a living daughter, at Exeter, June 16, 1644, at Bedford House, and in less than a fortnight afterwards, the army of the earl of Essex advanced to besiege her city of refuge. On the approach of this hostile force, the queen, who was in a very precarious state of health, sent to the republican general, requesting permission to retire to Bath for the completion of her recovery. Essex made answe "that it was his intention to escort her majesty to London, where her presence was required, to answer to parliament for having levied war in England." This was tantamount to avowing an intention of leading her to the metropolis as a prisoner, and the French writers' aver that Essex actually went so far as to set a price on her head. The daughter of Henry the Great summoned all the energy of character which she had derived from that mighty sire, to triumph over the pain and weakness that oppressed her feminine frame at this awful crisis She rose from her sick bed, and escaped from Exeter in disguise, with one gentleman and one lady, and her confessor. She was constrained to hide herself in a hut, three miles from Exeter gate, where she passed two days without anything to nourish her, couched under a heap of litter. She heard the parliamentary soldiers defile on each side of her shelter; she overheard their imprecations and oaths, " that they would carry the head of Henrietta to London, as they should receive from the parliament a reward for it of 50,000 crowns." When this peril was passed, she issued out of her hiding-place, and, accompanied by the three persons who had shared her dangers, traversed the same road on which the soldiers had lately marched, though they had made it nearly impassable. She travelled in extreme pain, and her anxious attendants were astonished that she did not utterly fail on the way. The rest of her ladies and faithful attendants stole out of Exeter, in various disguises, to meet her. Their rendezvous was at night in a miserable cabin, in a wood between Exeter and Plymouth. The valiant dwarf, Geoffry Hudson, was of this party; he had grown up to the respectable stature of three feet and a half, and showed both courage and sagacity in this escape. The queen, whose original destination was Plymouth, found Pendennis castle a safer place of refuge. She arrived with her company, in doleful plight, at this royal fortress, on the 29th of June, 1644. As a friendly Dutch vessel laid in the bay, the queer. resolved to embark at once, and she sailed, with her faithful attendants, 'Mémoires de Madame de la Fayette, and of the queen's cousin, Mademoisella de Montpensier. Vie de Henriette de France, prefixed to the Oration of Bossuet. from the western coast, early the following morning;' nevertheless, the worst perils of this escape were not yet passed. Meantime, her royal husband made incredible efforts to succour his beloved Henrietta; and, urged by despair, fought his way to Exeter by means of a series of minor victories, which were complete, because he was entirely his own general. So near were this loving pair towards meeting once more, that Charles entered Exeter triumphantly but ten days after the queen sailed from Pendennis. Lady Morton presented to the king the little princess, left to her care on the flight of the unfortunate queen. For the first and last time, the hapless monarch bestowed on his poor babe a paternal embrace. He caused one of his chaplains to baptize this little one Henrietta Anne, after her kind aunt of France, and her mother. He relieved Exeter, and left an order on the customs for the support of his infant, who remained there for some time in the charge of her governess, lady Morton. Queen Henrietta did not reach the shores of her native land without a fresh trial to her courage. The vessel in which she had embarked was chased by a cruiser in the service of the parliament. Several cannon-shots were fired at the vessel in which she was embarked; and the danger of being taken or sunk seemed to her imminent. In this exigence, the queen took the command of the vessel. She forbade any return to be made of the cannonading, for fear of delay, but urged the pilot to continue his course, and every sail to be set for speed; and she charged the captain, if their escape were impossible, to fire the powder magazine, and destroy her with the ship, rather than permit her to fall alive into the hands of her husband's enemies. At this order, her ladies and domestics sent forth the most piercing cries, she meantime maintaining a courageous silence, her high spirit being wound up to brave death rather than the disgrace to herself, and the trouble to her husband, which would have ensued if she had been dragged a captive to London. The cannonading continued till they were nearly in sight of Jersey, when a shot hit the queen's little bark, and made it stagger under the blow. Every one on board gave themselves over for lost, as the mischief done to the rigging made the vessel slacken sail. At that moment a little fleet of Dieppe vessels hove in sight, and hastened to the scene of action. This friendly squadron took the queen's battered bark under their protection, and the enemy sheered off. A furious storm sprung up before a landing could be effected, and Henrietta's vessel was driven far from the shelter offered by the harbour of Dieppe.1 In a few hours the coast of Bretagne-the refuge of many an exile from England-rose in sight. The queen ordered the long-boat out, and was rowed on shore. She landed in a wild, rocky cove at Chastel, Madame de Motteville, whose account is partly confirmed by the MS. of Père Gamache, belonging to Mr. Colburn, to which we have access, see p. 71. 2 Madame de Motte ville, vol. i. Queen's Narrative, p. 267. Edition of Maest richt, 1782. Vie de Reine Henriette (Bossuet). Ibid. p. 276. It is said that ner pursuer's name was captain Batts. Batten was the enemy who cannonaded her at Burlington. These names often occur in the liary of Pepys, as of persons in trust and favour in Charles II.'s navy not far from Brest. Here she had to climb over rocks, and traverse on foot a most dangerous path. At last she descended into a little rude hamlet of fishermen's huts, where she thankfully laid herself down to rest in a peasant's cabin covered with stubble. The Bas-Bretons took her people at first for pirates, and rose in arms against them; and the queen. exhausted as she was, was forced to explain to them who she really was.' Next morning, the neighbouring Breton gentlemen, being apprised of her landing, thronged to her retreat in their coaches, offering her all the service in their power. In all eyes, as she afterwards observed, she must have appeared more like a distressed wandering princess of romance than a real queen. She was very ill, and very much changed: but the memory of Henri Quatre was still dear to the French people; his daughter was followed by their benedictions, and supplied, from private good-will, with all she needed. She used the equipages, so generously offered, to convey her to the baths of Bourbon, where she sought health for her body, and repose for her overwrought mind. Her first feeling, she declared, was that of penitence for her intended self-destruction. The indomitable determination of purpose, which all ancient writers, and too many modern ones, would have lauded as an instance of high resolve worthy a Roman matron, queen Henrietta very properly condemned as sinful desperation, unworthy of a Christian woman. "I did not," she said to madame de Motteville, when she related to her this adventure, "feel any extraordinary effort when I gave the order to blow up the vessel; I was perfectly calm and self-possessed; I can now accuse myself of want of moral courage to master my pride; and I give thanks to God for having preserved me at the same time from my enemies and from myself." The feelings of Charles I. on his queen's departure, left desolate as he was to accomplish-Ins sad destiny, are best known by his lonely meditations in his Eikon Basilicon. He says of her, "Although I have much cause to be troubled at my wife's departure from me, yet her absence grieves me not so much as the scandal of that necessity which drives her away doth afflict me-viz., that she should be compelled by my own subjects to withdraw for her safety. I fear such conduct (so little adorning the protestant profession) may occasion a farther alienation of her mind, and divorce of affection in her from that religion which is the only thing in which my wife and I differ." "I am sorry that my relation and connection with so deserving a lady should be any occasion of her danger and affliction. Her personal merits would have served her as a protection among savage Indians, since their rudeness and uncivilized state knows not to hate all virtue as some men's cruelty doth. Among whom I yet think there be few so malicious as to hate her for herself the fault is, she is my wife.” Here we think the conjugal affection of king Charles misleads him. The fact is, that his chief fault in the eyes of his people was, that he 1 Vie de Keine Henriette. 'Madame de Motteville's Mémoires, vol. i. p. 276. Mademoiselle de Mont pensier, Père Cyprian's Meinoirs and the Life of Henrietta (Bossuet), all men tion this resolution of the queen. |