Charles I. to the Duke of Buckingham.1 It is not unknown, both to the French king and his mother, what unkindnesses and distastes have fallen between my wife and me; which hitherto I have borne with great patience (as all the world knows), ever expecting and hoping an amendment; knowing her to be but young, and perceiving it to be the ill crafty counsels of her servants for advancing of their own ends, rather than her own inclination. For, at my first meeting of her at Dover, I could not expect more testimonies of respect and love than she showed; as, to give one instance. Her first suit was, that she being young, and coming to a strange country, both by her years and ignorance of the customs of the place, might commit many errors; therefore, that I would not be angry with her for her faults of ignorance, before I had, by my instructions, learned her to eschew them; and desired me, in these cases, to use no third person, but to tell her myself, when I found she did anything amiss. I both granted her request and thanked her for it; but desired that she would use me as she had desired me to use her; which she willingly promised me, which promise she 1 Rawlinson MSS. in the Bodleian library. It is printed in the 1646 collection of Charles's letters. Both copies agree with one another. D'Ewes thus quaintly describes the youthful queen—“ On Thursday, the last day of June, I went to Whitehall purposely to see the Queen; which 1 did fully all the time she sat at dinner, and perceived her to be a most absolute delicate lady, after I had exactly surveyed all the features of her face, much enlivened by her radiant and sparkling black eye. Besides, her deportment amongst her women was so sweet and humble, and her speech and looks to her other servants so mild and gracious, as I could not abstain from divers deep-fetched sighs to consider that she wanted the knowledge of the true religion." never kept. For, a little after this, Madame St. George, taking a distaste because I would not let her ride with us in the coach, when there were women of better quality to fill her room, claiming it as her due (which in England we think a strange thing) set my wife in such a humour of distaste against me as, from that very hour to this, no man can say that ever she asked me, two days together, with so much respect as I deserved of her; but, on the contrary, has put so many disrespects on me, that it were too long to set down all. Some I will relate. As I take it, it was at her first coming to Hampton Court I sent some of my council to her with those orders that were kept in the queen my mother's house, desiring she would command the Count of Tilliers that the same might be kept in hers. Her answer was, that "she hoped I would give her leave to order her house as she list herself." Now, if she had said that she would speak with me, not doubting to give me satisfaction in it, I could have found no fault with her, whatsoever she would have said of this to myself, for I could only impute it to ignorance. But I could not imagine that she would have affronted me so as to refuse me in such a thing publickly. After I heard this answer, I took a time, when I thought we hath both best leisure to dispute it, to tell her calmly both her fault in the public denial and her mistaking the business itself. She, instead of acknowledging her fault and mistaking, gave me so ill an answer, that I omit (not to be tedious) the relation of that discourse; having too much of that nature hereafter to relate. Many little neglects I will not take the pains to set down; as, her eschewing to be in my company; when I have anything to speak to her, I must means 1 her servant first, else. I am sure to be denied; her neglect of the English tongue, and of the nation in general. I will also omit the affront she did me, before my going to this last unhappy assembly of parliament; because there has been talk enough of that already. The author of it is before you in France. To be short, omitting all other passages, coming only to that which is most recent in memory: I having made a commission to make my wife's jointure, to assign her those lands she is to live on, and it being brought to such a ripeness, that it wanted but my consent to the particulars they had chosen; she, taking notice that it was now time to name the officers for her revenue, one night, when I was in bed, put a paper into my hand, telling me it was a list of those that she desired to be of her revenue. I took it, and said I would read it next morning; but withal told her that, by agreement in France, I had the naming of them. She said, there were both English and French in the note. I replied, that those English I thought fit to serve her I would confirm; but for the French, it was impossible for them to serve her in that nature. Then she said, all those in the paper had breviates from her mother and herself, and that she could admit no other. Then I said, it was neither in her mother's power nor hers to admit without my leave; and that, if she stood upon that, whomsoever she 1 Use as a mediator. any Then, she bade me recommended, should not come in. plainly take my lands to myself; for, if she had no power to put in whom she would in those places, she would have neither lands nor houses of me; but bade me give her what I thought fit in pension. I bade her then remember to whom she spoke; and told her, she ought not to use me so. Then she fell into a passionate discourse, how miserable she was, in having no power to place servants, and that business succeeded the worse for her recommendation; which, when I offered to answer, she would not so much as hear me. Then she went on saying, she was not of that base quality to be used so ill. Then I made her both hear me, and end that discourse. Thus, having had so long patience with the disturbance of that which should be one of my greatest contentments, I can no longer suffer those, that I know to be the cause and fomenters of these humours, to be about my wife any longer; which I must do, if it were but for one action which they made my wife do, which is, to make her go to Tyburn' in devotion to pray: which action can have no greater invective made against it, than the relation. Therefore, you shall tell my brother, the French king, as likewise his mother, that this being an action of so much necessity, I doubt not but he will be satisfied with it; especially, since he hath done the like himself, not staying while he had so much reason. And, being an action that some may interpret to be of harsh 1 There is no proper evidence to substantiate this tale. The queen herself indignantly denied it, asserting that she had never approached within fifty paces of the gibbet, and then only in company with her husband. ness to his nation, I thought good to give him an account of it; because that, in all things, I would preserve the good correspondency and brotherly affection that is be tween us. July 12, 1626. Charles I. to the Duke of Buckingham, for the final driving away of the Monsieurs.1 Steenie, I have received your letter by Dick Greame.2 This is my answer. I command you send all the French away to-morrow out of the town. If you can, by fair means (but stick not long in disputing), otherwise force them away; driving them away like so many wild beasts, until ye have shipped them; and so the devil go with them! Let me hear no answer but of the performance of my command. So I rest Your faithful, constant, loving friend, Oaking, the 7th of August, 1626. 1 MS. Harl, 6988, art. 6. We have here the last letter from Charles concerning the expulsion of the queen's foreign household attendants, and the style in which it is written exhibits in a remarkable manner the virulence of the king towards them. On July 1st he had told them that some of them had so dallied with his patience, that it was impossible he could submit to it any longer. A letter, dated August 29th, thus alludes to the occurrence:-" The king at last has got rid of the French insects that have bit him so long. We had a procession of them in turns to Somerset House, and I know not what revilings took place betwixt them and the king's guard; but one of the soldiers told me that, for furious speech, he would rather have taken common thieves to prison. Thomas Smithson was the soldier who said this, but I forget whether you know him or his cousin of the same name. When they were turned away from Somerset House, the passage was somewhat rough.”—Tanner MSS. Bodleian Library. 2 By Dick Greame he means Sir Richard Graham. |