Through Abbeville, with its soaring cathedral, through picturesque Montreuil, Henrietta came to Boulogne, whence she was to cross to England, as the plague was reigning at Calais. Though it was June, the weather was wild and stormy, and a further delay was inevitable. Buckingham, forgetful of all propriety, careless of the trust confided to him by his friend and King, took advantage of this delay to steal back, on a frivolous pretext, to Amiens, and to Anne. His audacity little availed him. After one brief agitated interview he had to tear himself from his idol, whom he never saw again.
During the waiting time at Boulogne, Henrietta made acquaintance with some of her new subjects who had crossed the Channel to meet her, and who were greatly disappointed when they found her without her mother and sister-in-law, for, as one of them wrote, they had looked forward to seeing beauty not only in the future tense, but in the present and the preterperfect as well.[26] Buckingham, who up till now had been too occupied with Anne to pay much attention to the bride, and who was too much of a man of the world to care for the "future tense" of beauty, now, it seems, bethought him of winning the favour of the Queen of England. Certainly he secured a flattering reception for his mother, the Countess of Buckingham, who improved the occasion of her visit to France by reconciling herself to the Church of Rome. In later days Henrietta did not like the lady, but at this first introduction she received her "with strange courtesy and favour."[27] Nor was she alone in her kindness. Gaston of Orleans, who, in his mother's enforced detention at Amiens, had adhered to his plan of escorting his sister to the coast, paid the English lady the unusual compliment of visiting her, and the haughty and high-born Madame de Chevreuse actually waived her right of precedence in favour of the Buckinghams, whose family was of yesterday. It need hardly be said that such courtesy was greatly relished by the English visitors, who found no drawback to the happy intercourse with their new friends except in the Countess' ignorance of the French tongue. But even this difficulty was got over by the presence at Boulogne of Sir Tobie Matthew, who, though the son of a Protestant archbishop, was a Catholic and a citizen of the world whose linguistic talents, which were much admired in continental circles, were joined to a refined culture which rendered him a fitting intermediary between these distinguished persons. Fortunately all his time was not taken up by such duties, and he employed his leisure very profitably in writing a long letter to a lady acquaintance, which contains the fullest account we possess of Henrietta in her early youth before the cares of married life had come upon her.
Sir Tobie's ready and subtle pen drew such a sketch of the young Queen as, interpreted by the future, shows him to have been a keen analyst of character. Henrietta had grown a good deal during the past year; and though she was still small, "she sits," he wrote, "upon the very skirts of womanhood." Her mind and character were as yet undeveloped; but in the mingled gentleness and wit of her conversation, in the sweet courtesy shown to her inferiors, in the faithful affection which clung to the mother she had left, finally, in the courage and enterprise which, to the despair of her attendants, tempted her to a sea-trip in an open boat with her brother Gaston, we recognize the woman of later days, as in the girl of fifteen we see the beautiful queen of Van Dyck's portraits. "Upon my faith," wrote the worthy knight, giving utterance to a prophecy which unfortunately was not completely fulfilled, "she is a most sweet, lively nature, and hath a countenance which opens a window into her heart, where a man may see all nobleness and goodness; and I dare venture my head (upon the little skill I have in physiognomy) that she will be extraordinarily beloved by our nation and deserve to be so, and that the actions of her life which are to be her owne will be excellent."[28]
At length, after nearly three weeks of waiting, during which Henrietta's health and spirits flagged a little, the twenty-second day of June dawned calm and fair, and it was decided that the voyage should be made. Heretofore the Queen of England had been her brother's guest, but now, on the eve of embarking, she was delivered over to the care of the Duke of Buckingham, and the deed of consignation was signed by that nobleman and by the two French Ambassadors, to witness that the responsibility of the latter was ended. After the little ceremony the Queen was escorted to the quay by her brother. She went on board the beautiful ship, The Prince, which her husband had sent for her. The preparations for departure were quickly made. The moment came when she clung in a last embrace to Gaston. Then the sails were unfurled, and The Prince rode proudly out of Boulogne harbour. As Henrietta stood gazing upon the rapidly receding cliffs of France, did any foreboding of the future come over her, any presage of coming grief such as weighed upon the heart of her husband's grandmother, Mary of Scotland, on a similar occasion? Did any shadow of that day nearly twenty years later, when, a fugitive pursued by unrelenting foes, she would see again her native land, darken her spirit? We cannot tell. We only know that she had a moment's serrement de coeur, such as any girl might feel on leaving home, and that she was a little afraid of sea-sickness.
No inconvenience, however, arose. Charles' care had caused his bride's cabin to be so beautified that she might have imagined herself in her own Louvre rather than on the sea; and to complete the illusion a choice concert of delicate instruments and sweet voices was in readiness to amuse her. Moreover, no precaution was omitted which might ensure the safety of so precious a freight. The Prince and the vessels which formed her escort carried the most experienced pilots that could be obtained, whose work was so well done (though unfortunately it was never paid for) that in four-and-twenty hours the Channel was crossed. Dover harbour was safely made, and amidst a throng of interested spectators Henrietta Maria touched the soil of her new kingdom. It was noticed that immediately on her arrival the wind rose again with its former violence, and that the sea was again troubled as if for her alone they had stilled their raging. It was now evening, and as the Queen, in spite of the pleasures of the little voyage which seemed to have restored her health and spirits, confessed to great fatigue, she was allowed to retire at once and to postpone until the next day the meeting with her husband. M. de Chevreuse and M. de Ville-aux-Clercs wrote a formal letter to their master, informing him of his sister's happy arrival, while the King of England awaited, with as much patience as he could command, the morrow which was to give to his arms the bride who had tarried so long.
[ [1]She was born on November 25th, 1609 (November 15th, O.S.).
[ [2] The elaborate ceremonies of her baptism are described in a pamphlet entitled Discours sur le baptême de Monsieur frère du Roy et de la petite Madame. 1614.
[ [3]Bib. Nat., Paris. MS. Français, 3818.
[ [4]After this marriage (of Christine) Her Majesty durst not follow her mother, to the displeasure of her brother, lest she might hinder her own, until June 21st, 1620, when the Queen-Mother and her son were reconciled.