For some years Mary de' Medici had been casting her eyes upon England as a possible refuge. She disliked the Low Countries, where she was living, and as she felt no desire to return to her native Florence, which was the place of retirement selected for her by Louis XIII, or rather by Richelieu, she thought that it might be wise to take advantage of the kindness which her son-in-law, the King of England, had always felt for her. Her presence was not desired in England; she was considered, with some justice, a quarrelsome and mischief-making old lady, and her bigoted religious attitude, joined with the favours which she showed to Spain, were sufficient to make her unpopular among the people. Charles, however much he might pity her as the victim of Richelieu, dreaded, short of money as he was, so expensive and inconvenient a guest. Even Henrietta, with the thought of her childhood in her mind, was afraid of her mother's arbitrary interference. "Adieu ma liberté," she sighed. Perhaps the Queen-Mother gathered that she would not be welcome, for the project seems to have been in abeyance when England was startled by the arrival of another exiled lady whose character and career presented even more of excitement and variety.
THE DUCHESS OF CHEVREUSE
AFTER THE PICTURE BY MOREELSE ONCE IN THE POSSESSION OF CHARLES I
Madame de Chevreuse, on arriving in Madrid, had been received with great kindness, as was only to be expected, for she had been a good friend to Spain. But after some years of residence in the Spanish capital she found that, owing to the war between the two countries, communication with France was extremely difficult. She also began to think of England, where she had spent some happy days of her earlier life. She felt sure of a good reception, for she was united to the King by their common political sympathy with the Spanish, and the Queen, in the past, had regarded her with much affection. Her intention was quickly acted upon. She set sail from Corunna in May, 1638, and after a successful voyage landed in England. She had not deceived herself. The reception given to her by her royal hosts was worthy of her rank as the wife of a kinsman of the King of England and of her position as a personal friend of his Queen. Charles and Henrietta, who were never wanting in hospitality, bade her heartily welcome, and even invited her to be present at Windsor on the occasion of the little Prince of Wales' investiture with the insignia of the Order of the Garter, an attention which was due to the fact that her husband was himself a knight of that noble order.[208] Nevertheless, the arrival of this factious lady at so critical a moment was part of that tragic ill-luck of the King and Queen of England on which their contemporaries remarked.
In London Madame de Chevreuse found many friends, among whom were her former lover, the Earl of Holland, and Walter Montagu, whose early devotion to her time had not destroyed. With the latter she at once began to scheme for the coming of Mary de' Medici, and though for a while it seemed unlikely that her plans would succeed, owing to the opposition of the King and the whole nation, yet such was the effect of her skill and persistency that, a few months after her own arrival, she witnessed the entry into London of that unfortunate royal lady, in whose sojourn in England must be sought one of the immediate contributory causes of the Civil War. Well might Richelieu write on this occasion, with even more truth than he knew, that "there is nothing so capable of destroying a state as evil minds protected by their sex."[209]
Mary de' Medici arrived in the end unexpectedly. One Sunday afternoon a gentleman of her suite arrived at the Court and announced that she had already put to sea, and would land at Harwich that same evening if she were assured of a welcome. Neither the King nor the Queen was pleased, but Charles was too true a gentleman and Henrietta too affectionate a daughter not to receive her with all honour. The King rode out into the country to meet her, and escorted her through London amid official rejoicings, described by a French gentleman in an elaborate account which reflects his satisfaction.[210] Henrietta awaited her mother at St. James's Palace, where she received her affectionately, settling her in the pleasant rooms which had been there prepared, whence the old lady could look out upon the deer park, and upon the beautiful terrace, which formed the favourite promenade of the Court.
Meanwhile, Scottish affairs were going from bad to worse. "They growl, but I hope they will not bite,"[211] wrote a courtier. They were to bite only too soon. In February, 1638, thousands of Scots were signing the National Covenant. A few months later the General Assembly of the Kirk sitting at Glasgow abolished episcopacy, and followed up this act of defiance by refusing to dissolve at the command of the King's commissioner. Charles began to appreciate that his northern subjects were in open rebellion, whose due chastisement was the sword.
But then, as ever, he was crippled by lack of money, and one of the means which was taken to procure it was another of those acts by which he and his wife set themselves against the will and sentiment of their people, and thus prepared the way for their own final ruin, though, in this case, the blame fell chiefly upon Henrietta, and it is doubtful whether Charles' share in the transaction was known to the Puritans.[212]