“Listen to me,” he said.

“I want to hear no more,” I cried. “The more I hear the more miserable I become. Why do you use me so? Am I not the daughter of a great King? My brother is King of France. If my family but knew!”

He said: “Your family know full well that you are being treated here in accordance with your deserts. Your brother has sent Blainville here to try to reason with you.”

“I have been unused to such treatment,” I wailed. “I hate it here. I want to go home. I will write to my brother….”

“Much good that will do you.”

“To my mother…. She will understand.”

He was silent for a while and I grew tired of talking to what seemed like no one. I slid down and buried my face in the pillow.

There was a long silence. Then he sighed and lay down too.

After a while he said: “I will say this and that is an end to the matter: You cannot fill posts in your retinue with your French servants. These posts must be filled by English people. You have become the Queen of England and the sooner you realize it, the better for you and all concerned.”

With that he pretended to sleep and I ceased to cry.

Later he turned to me and was very tender.

But I knew I had lost the battle.

The next climax which arose was due to the coronation. Charles of course had only become King just before our marriage and in accordance with custom his coronation should take place soon after he came to the throne. His had been delayed because of the plague but with the beginning of the next year London seemed safe again and plans went ahead with great speed, for a coronation has a special significance. It is only when a King has been anointed and crowned that the people feel he is truly King.

So Charles was of course eager to be crowned.

I was the Queen and I should be crowned with him, but I could see all sorts of difficulties, for how could I—a Catholic—be crowned in a Protestant ceremony.

I discussed the matter with my French attendants and of course with Father Sancy. He was adamant. I most certainly must not be crowned in a Protestant church and indeed I should not even attend the coronation.

“Then I shall not be crowned Queen,” I pointed out.

“Only when you receive the crown in the true Faith,” he said.

Charles was bewildered at first when he heard my views on the matter; then he was very angry.

“Do you mean to say you refuse to be crowned?”

“In a Protestant church, yes.”

“You are mad,” he said. “Do you value your crown so little?”

“I value my Faith more,” I replied dramatically.

“You must be the first Queen who has refused to be crowned,” he said. “Do you realize that it will be said you have no firm hold on it?”

“What would God say if I allowed myself to take part in such a mockery?”

That was when he became really angry. “Be silent,” he cried. “Don’t dare talk so in my presence.”

He was really rather frightening then. He went away and left me. I think he was afraid he might do me some harm.

It was an extraordinary state of affairs and everyone was talking about it. The Queen would not have a coronation! The English thought I was mad; and they were annoyed with me, too, looking upon my attitude as some insult to them; but my own attendants applauded me. Even Mamie did not condemn the action, but she did say she thought it was unwise.

As for the Comte de Blainville, he was astounded, although Catholic as he was he should have understood. It meant, of course, that if I did not go he could not either. He said he would have risked the small strain to his conscience, which was meant I supposed to be a mild reproof to me. But he did add that as I was not to be crowned he could hardly be there.

Charles tried once or twice to reason with me but I refused to listen.

“The people may well take this as an insult to them and their Church. It will not make you very popular with them.”

“I care nothing for their regard,” I said.

“Then you are even more foolish than I thought” was his terse reply.

On another occasion he tried to persuade me at least to be present in the Abbey. He would have a latticed box made where I could sit unseen.

“No,” I cried vehemently. “It would be wrong for me to be in such a place.”

He spoke to me no more of the matter, but I knew that he was very displeased and that the people in the streets discussed it and said some very unflattering things about me.

However I refused to be dismayed. In those days I had the gift of persuading myself that what I did was always right. Coronation Day was the second of February, which was Candlemas Day, one of the festivals of our Church, so while the coronation was in progress, we celebrated that; but I have to admit that afterward I could not resist watching the procession from a window in Whitehall Palace.

The King was very cool to me and I was beginning to feel a little uneasy because, although I was in fact Queen of England, I had not been crowned and I did not see how I ever could be until that day when I brought the whole country to the true Faith.

It was about a week after the coronation when the second Parliament of Charles’s reign was about to be opened and that meant a grand procession. Father Sancy said I might watch it from one of the windows of Whitehall Palace, but Buckingham in his interfering way suggested that I should see it better from his family’s house and his mother would be very happy if I joined her and the ladies of the Buckingham household.

I was very annoyed about this and wanted to refuse but I was feeling a little nervous because of all the fuss over the coronation.

Charles said he would escort me to the Buckingham residence and I was waiting for him to come, inwardly fuming because I had agreed to go to those I hated so much.

When it started to rain I saw through this a way out and when Charles came I touched my headdress, which was very elaborate, and looked melancholy.

He asked what was wrong and I said: “The rain will ruin this.”

He gave one of those faint smiles of his and I knew that he was thinking I was rather an adorable child in spite of all my naughtiness and he touched my shoulder gently and said: “Very well, remain here and watch the procession from Whitehall.”

I was delighted and settled down to do so, but very soon the Sieur de Blainville arrived. He looked very disturbed.

“Is it true, my lady,” he asked, “that you have refused to go to the Buckingham house to see the procession as arranged?”

“It is raining.”

“It has stopped.”

“Well, it was raining and I told the King it would spoil my headdress.”

“That will not be acceptable to Buckingham.”

“The King accepted it. He did not want me to spoil my headdress.”

“You must leave here at once,” he said. “I will conduct you there. Do you realize that the situation between our two countries is very uneasy. The King your brother, your mother, the Cardinal…they are all seeking friendship with your husband. You must forgive my saying so, my lady, but your conduct does not help to bring about what we want.”

He looked so serious and still a little worried about my action over the coronation that I said I would go with him at once.

So he immediately conducted me to the Buckingham house.

It is strange that when one does not mean to annoy one can do so more deeply than when one does. I had no idea that there could be such a storm over such a trivial matter. But of course it was Buckingham who made the mischief. When he saw that I was not with the King—so I heard from those present who had witnessed the scene—the Duke expressed great concern. He would know the real reason for my refusal to leave Whitehall Palace and that the rain had little to do with it. He was heard to tell the King that he could not hope to make much impression on Parliament if he allowed his own wife to flout him.

Charles was rather angry then. He took a great deal of notice of Buckingham, and the Duke was on such familiar terms with him that he never hesitated to give him a hint of criticism if he wanted to. The result was that Charles sent a messenger back to Whitehall to say that I was to leave at once, but by the time the messenger arrived I had already left with the Sieur de Blainville.

I knew what Buckingham’s comment was. He would point out that although I had refused the King’s request, I left immediately when commanded to do so by my fellow countryman.

In those days Charles was unsure of himself. He was very shy and always afraid of losing his dignity. Looking back I see it all so clearly now. Buckingham had been his father’s favorite and had made himself Charles’s mentor, so he always listened to him and took great heed of what he said. Now, because of Buckingham’s suggestions, Charles sent a message to me telling me I was to return to Whitehall Palace for if I could not come when he was there to escort me I should not remain there.

I was so thoughtless. It never occurred to me to try to understand the situation. I sent the messenger back to say that I preferred to remain where I was now, having made the journey in the company of the Sieur de Blainville.

There was no doubt of the sternness of the command which was brought back to me. I was to return to Whitehall without more ado.

I did realize then that this was blowing up into a storm and I thought it advisable to obey immediately, so back to Whitehall I went and, with my attendants, watched the procession from there as I had originally planned to do.

That was not the end of the matter.