I was on deck watching the coastline of my country slowly disappear from view and I felt afraid and very vulnerable on that seething gray sea. The ship lurched and Mamie persuaded me to go below.

The uncomfortable journey seemed to go on interminably, but I think I was too emotionally disturbed to notice the discomforts as some of the others did.

In due course we came close to land. I went on deck and had my first glimpse of the white cliffs.

My new life had begun.

DISCORD IN THE ROYAL APARTMENTS

It was seven o’clock on that Sunday evening when I set foot on English soil. An assembly of gentlemen was waiting to receive me and an artificial bridge had been set up so that I could disembark easily. This, I was told, had been ordered by the King who was at that time at Canterbury, which was not very far from Dover, and there he was eagerly awaiting news of my arrival.

I wondered then why he was not at Dover and would have impulsively asked this if I had not had to speak through an interpreter, for I felt more than a little annoyed that he had not been there to greet me.

I was informed that a message would be sent to the King immediately to tell him of my coming and he should be with me in less than an hour.

I replied—somewhat imperiously, Mamie said afterward—that I was too tired to receive anyone that evening. The journey had been exhausting and I needed food and rest.

I was told that it should be as I wished and we proceeded at once to the castle where it had been arranged that I should spend the night.

The castle was near the coast and I hated it from the moment I saw it. It was very gloomy, quite unlike the Louvre, Chenonceaux, Chambord…those castles to which I was accustomed, and as my footsteps rang out on the bare boards I noticed how shabby everything was.

I said that I would retire to my apartments without delay for more than anything I needed rest. Perhaps some food could be brought for my lady of honor and myself. I made it clear that I wished to see no one until the morning.

At least they seemed eager to comply with my wishes, and I was immediately conducted to my apartment. I gasped with horror when I saw it. There were tapestries on the walls but they were dingy and dusty. Mamie went to the bed and felt it. It was hard and lumpy. I had never seen such a bed in any of our French castles or palaces. And this was the room they had prepared for the Queen of England!

“Never mind,” said Mamie. “Don’t get angry. You can change everything later. But just for tonight accept it.”

“Don’t they want me here?”

“Of course they want you! You have to remember that they do not live in the style that we do. They are barbarians compared with us.”

“What of men like the Duke of Buckingham and the Earl of Holland? They are as elegant as any Frenchman.”

“Perhaps it is just their castles which are different. But never mind about that now. We need rest. Everything will look better in the morning.”

“I don’t think this place will ever look better. It will be worse when the sunlight picks out the horrors and shows them to us more clearly.”

But as usual she soothed me. We ate a little together and then she helped me to bed.

Tired as I was it was not easy to sleep. All the excitement I had felt through the wedding and festivities had disappeared and in its place was a growing apprehension.

But Mamie was right. I did feel better in the daylight, for even though it showed up the threadbare state of the bedcurtains, it lit up those dark corners and eliminated the shadows which had been so disturbing on the previous night. Breakfast was brought to the apartment and Mamie and I were eating it when a messenger came into the room.

He bowed respectfully, and said, “Pardon the intrusion, Your Majesty, but the King has arrived from Canterbury and he wishes you to know that he is waiting to see you.”

I stood up. I would see him without delay. This was the moment for which I had been waiting ever since I had seen the portrait of him and knew I was to be his wife.

Mamie was looking at me anxiously, warning me not to be over-impulsive. I smiled at her. “He is my husband,” I reminded her, “and I am naturally all eagerness to meet him.”

She tidied my hair and smoothed my gown. “You look enchanting,” she whispered and kissed me.

Then I descended the stairs to the hall.

I was aware of a figure standing there and I went forward swiftly and was about to kneel and say what I had been taught I must say on our first meeting, that I had come to His Majesty’s country to be commanded by him…but the words would not come, my voice broke with emotion and I felt the tears gushing to my eyes, while he caught me up in his arms.

He was very tender. He took his kerchief and wiped my eyes; then he kissed my forehead and my tear-stained cheeks…not once but several times.

“Why,” he said softly in French, for I had no English, “I must kiss you until you cease to weep. You are not with enemies and strangers, you must know. It is God’s will that you and I are here and does He not tell you to leave your kindred and cling to your husband?”

I nodded in agreement.

“Well then,” he said gently. “All is well. As for myself…I will not be so much a master to you as a servant to cherish you and make you happy.”

It seemed to me that no husband could have used kinder words and I began to feel better.

“Now we will sit down and talk together,” he said. “You shall get to know me and you will realize that this marriage of ours is not a matter for sorrow but for joy.”

He took my hand and led me to a window seat where we sat side by side.

I was able to take a glance at him. He was of medium height and I was relieved that he was not very tall as that would have accentuated my low stature. He was not as handsome as the picture in the miniature, but he was pleasant looking. There was, however, a certain melancholy aspect about him which had not been apparent in the miniature and which alarmed me faintly.

It might have been that I was a trifle disappointed in his looks but his kindness was comforting. He clearly did not seem disappointed in my looks, for I caught a glimpse of admiration in his eyes, and as others thought I was pretty I guessed he did too.

It occurred to me then that my portrait might have underrated my attractions, for Mamie had often said that my vivacity was a very large part of my charm. I thought a little liveliness might have improved him. I definitely had the impression in that first half hour that he was inclined to be morose.

He told me that we should leave for Canterbury later in the day and stay the night there. He had been there when he had heard of my arrival and had set out immediately, accomplishing the journey in half an hour, which was something of a record and showed his eagerness to be with his bride.

“You must present me to your attendants who have come with you,” he said. “And I will present your English ones to you.”

“I daresay I shall make mistakes,” I replied. “Matters are conducted differently here from the way they are in France, and I do not even know the language.”

“You will quickly learn,” he reassured me.

“If I make mistakes you must tell me.”

He smiled at me very gravely and tenderly. I wished he had joked a little though, brought some lightness into the conversation, but of course that was not his nature. I thought then, they could not have found a partner for me more different from myself.

He took my hand and I stood up. I came up to his shoulder and I saw by the way he looked at me that he suspected I was wearing high heels to give me height. He must have heard exaggerated reports of my low stature.

I said at once: “My heels are flat.” I raised my skirts and held out a foot to confirm this. “I stand on my own feet and have no help through art to make me taller. This high I am…neither taller nor lower.”

He took my hand and kissed it.

“You are beautiful,” he said. “I think ours will be a happy marriage.”

I wondered even then. There was so much I did not know about England and I had already been amazed—as had my attendants—that they could have housed their Queen even for one night in that shabby old castle. And Charles my husband? He lacked the gaiety of Englishmen like the Duke of Buckingham and the Earl of Holland; there was something very serious indeed about him which I had already detected. Perhaps I should have rejoiced in that. I was not sure.

I presented my attendants to him and he in turn introduced those whom he had chosen to attend me. These meetings passed off comfortably and it was not until the carriage arrived to take us to Canterbury that the trouble arose.

I was walking with Charles, and Mamie was a pace or so behind, for I had told her to keep close and not lose sight of me.

“I want to see you there all the time,” I had said, “that is until I get used to these people.”

“Don’t worry,” she had replied. “I will be there.”

The King’s coach was waiting and he took my hand and helped me in. I sat down and Mamie got in beside me. The King stared at her as though thunderstruck.

“Madame,” he said, “pray leave the royal coach at once.”

Mamie turned pale while I looked on disbelievingly. At home the chief lady of honor always rode with my mother and the chief gentleman with the King.

She rose uncertainly but I cried out: “She shall ride with me.”

“There is no place for her in my coach,” said the King.

Mamie gave me an appealing glance and prepared to step out of the coach, but I caught her skirt and would not let her go. I never could control my temper and it was rising now. It seemed desperately important to me that Mamie should ride in the coach. Charles must learn what she meant to me, and I would not have her insulted in this way.