Princes were scarce with the Puritans, and Charles Louis was well received, lodged in Whitehall, and granted a large pension.[[4]] In recognition of this he took the Covenant, and begged leave to sit in the Assembly of Divines, then debating on religious "reforms". His request was readily granted, and it is to be hoped that he suffered some weariness from the long-winded debates to which he thus condemned himself.
The King regarded his conduct with quiet indifference, only remarking that he was sorry, for his nephew's sake, that he thought fit to act in such a manner. It has been suggested that he willingly connived at this hypocrisy as the only means by which the Elector could obtain money, but Charles Louis' own letters to his mother disprove that view. In 1647, when the King was a prisoner, he often received the visits of his eldest nephew, and the Elector thus described their mutual attitude to Elizabeth: "His Majesty, upon occasion, doth still blame the way I have been in all this time, and I do defend it as the only shelter I have, when my public business, and my person, have received so many neglects at Court. Madame, I would not have renewed the sore of his ill-usage of me since the Queen hath had power with him, but that he urged me to it, saying that I should rather have lived on bread and water, than have complied with the Parliament, which he said I did 'only to have one chicken more in my dish'; and that he would have thought it a design more worthy of his nephew if I had gone about to have taken the crown from his head. These and such-like expressions would have moved a saint. Neither do I know of anyone, but Our Saviour, that would have ruined himself for those that hate one."[[5]]
The King seems to have entertained no suspicions of actual treachery on the part of his nephew, but it is by no means unlikely that Charles Louis really did cherish some vague design of "taking the crown from his head". If the King were deposed, and his children rejected as the children of a Roman Catholic Queen, then the Elector, after his mother, was the Protestant heir to the throne. Probably the aspersions cast upon Rupert would have better fitted his elder brother, and the French Ambassador did not hesitate to assert plainly in 1644: "Some entertain a design for conveying the crown to the Prince Palatine".[[6]] But, whatever his degree of guilt, the political conduct of Charles Louis could be regarded only with contempt by Rupert and Maurice, though concerning their "domestic affairs" they seem to have been of one mind with him.
During the years of turmoil in England the Palatines on the Continent had not been inactive. Edward and Philip, clinging together as did Rupert and Maurice, had resided chiefly in Paris, where they seem to have led a very gay life, if Sir Kenelm Digby is to be credited. "All my conversation is in the other world, and with what passes in the Elysian fields," wrote that romantic personage to Lord Conway; "gaieties of Paris, gallantries of Prince Edward, his late duel with Sir James Leviston, who extremely forgot his duty. In a word, it was impossible for a young man, and a noble prince, to do more bravely than His Highness did."[[7]]
A month later, Edward, inspired probably by Queen Henrietta, wrote to Rupert to suggest that he also should come over to fight for his uncle's cause. "I have a letter from my brother in France who desires my order to come to me; if it be His Majesty's desire I should send word presently," Rupert wrote to Legge in April 1645; and he added a postscript curiously indicative of the haste and want of thought with which he must have written. "Since I wrote I remember the King was contented, and therefore I will send an express for my brother."[[8]]
The express was sent: "This day arrived a gentleman from Prince Rupert to fetch his brother Edward into England," wrote Jermyn to Digby.[[9]] But ere the messenger could arrive Edward had eloped with a fair heiress, for whose sake he joined the Roman Church. Jermyn hastened to inform Rupert of the event. "Your Highness is to know a romance story which concerns you here in the person of Prince Edward, who is last week married privately to the Princess Anne, the Duke of Nevers' daughter. This Queen,[[10]] the thing being done without her consent, hath been very much offended at it, and, notwithstanding all the endeavours of your brother's friends, he hath received an order to retire himself into Holland, which he hath done,... But there will come no further disadvantage to him than a little separation from his wife. She is very rich, £6,000 or £7,000 a year is the least that can fall to her, maybe more; and she is a very beautiful young lady."[[11]]
Edward's bride, Anne de Gonzague, was in fact a very distinguished personage,—famous already for her startling adventures, and destined to become more famous as a political intrigante.[[12]] The displeasure of the Queen Regent was speedily softened by the intercession of Queen Henrietta, and still more by Edward's conversion, which went far to palliate his fault. On his own family it had precisely the opposite effect. His mother was furious; and the Elector, moved by fear of the English Parliament's disapproval, wrote indignantly that Edward could not be really "persuaded of those fopperies to which he pretends."[[13]] He also ordered Philip to quit Paris, where "only atheists and hypocrites" were to be found, and he exhorted his mother to remove a Roman Catholic gentleman from attendance on the boy, and to lay her curse upon him should he ever change his religion.[[14]]
Philip had no sooner returned to the Hague than he distinguished himself in a way which won him the affectionate admiration of all his brothers, and the lasting displeasure of his mother. Elizabeth's favourite admirer, at that period, happened to be the Marquis d'Epinay, a French refugee, remarkable for his fascinating manners and disreputable character. The young Palatines detested him, but the man, notwithstanding, became intimate at the Court, and was soon acquainted with the Queen's most private affairs. The intimacy produced scandal without, and dissension within the household. D'Epinay boasted of his conquest, and Philip, a boy of eighteen, could not endure his insolence.
On the evening of June 20, 1646, D'Epinay, and several of his countrymen encountered Philip alone. They greeted him by name, insulting both him and his mother, but eventually fled before the fierce onslaught of the youngest Palatine. The affair could not end thus. On the following morning, as he drove through the Place d'Armes, Philip caught sight of his enemy. Without a moment's thought he sprang from his curricle, and rushed upon D'Epinay. D'Epinay was armed, and received Philip on the point of his sword, wounding him in the side. Philip had no sword, but he was a Palatine, and he plunged his hunting-knife deep into the Frenchman's heart. D'Epinay fell dead, and Philip, flinging his knife from him, regained his curricle and drove off to the Spanish border.[[15]]