“No, Mam,” said Charles. “She did not mean that. She was upset because she had maligned Anne. She said she had helped to spread the gossip about her when in her heart she did not believe that it was true. She believed that James loved Anne and Anne truly loved James and that James had given her a promise of marriage before she became his mistress.”

“She was delirious.”

“She was quite clear in her head. She thought that there were people who had fabricated those stories about Anne because they knew it was an unpopular marriage. Mary blamed herself most bitterly. She wanted Anne to come to her that she might beg her forgiveness. I could not allow Anne, with a new baby, to come to the sick bed.”

“I should think not….”

“The infectious nature of the disease prevented that,” he went on firmly. “But I shall go to Anne and tell her that the Princess Mary craved her pardon and that I give it on her behalf.”

“I never heard such nonsense.”

He just smiled at me and said no more.

Our next concern was James. He was becoming very ill.

“That woman is a witch,” I said to Henriette. “First she lured him into marriage and now because he disowns her she is willing him to die.”

Henriette did not answer. I could not understand Henriette. The quiet girl who had been so thin—Louis had referred to her as the Bones of the Holy Innocents—now in clothes which were worthy of her had blossomed into a beauty. Her fragility had become fashionable and ladies of the Court were trying to suppress those protuberances which at one time they had been at great pains to display. Henriette was at the center of all the entertainments, with Buckingham in attendance. In fact there was some scandalous gossip about them. I had to make sure that nothing dangerous could come of that. Charles doted on her and was making as much of her as he did of his favorite mistress Barbara Castlemaine, and knowing his insatiable sexuality, some even dared hint at the most objectionable slander about his relationship with Henriette.

It was a situation to be watched closely and I told myself that as soon as we reached France Henriette must be married to Philippe, who was now the Duc d’Orléans on the death of my brother Gaston. His death did not affect me greatly because, although we had been close as children in the nursery, his involvement in the Fronde had turned me against him.

James’s health began to give us cause for alarm. He was not, fortunately, suffering from the small pox, but I really believed he was so upset because he was regretting his marriage to that woman and was now realizing in what an unsavory involvement he had become entangled.

The doctors thought his malady had been brought about through emotional stress and Sir Charles Berkeley created quite a furor when he burst into James’s bedchamber, threw himself on his knees, and declared that the accusations he had made against Anne Hyde were false. She was a pure woman and had never had any lover other than James. Berkeley had prevailed upon other men to join with him in accusing her and they had done this because they thought the Duke of York would be happier if the marriage were dissolved and he could make another more suitable to his position.

The news spread round the Court. Anne Hyde was vindicated. James quickly recovered, which proved it was the slander about Anne Hyde which had so upset him that he became ill.

Charles was pleased about this and said that Anne must come back to Court and there must be a christening for her son.

He then came to tell me what had happened.

“So,” I said, “you are bringing her to Court. Is that what you are telling me?”

“That is so,” he answered, “and I am very happy at this outcome. Anne is a woman of great wit and excellent parts. She will take advice from her father and be a good influence on James—who is in need of it.”

“When you have finished singing her praises let me tell you that if this woman enters Whitehall by one door, I shall go out by another.”

Charles was angry. “I have long known that you cannot exist in peace,” he said coldly. “If it is forced on you, you will immediately set out raising storms.”

He left me then.

I sighed. What difficult children I had! They either died or defied me.

Charles was very cool and made no attempt to prevent the preparations I was making to return to France. Moreover he insisted on bringing Anne Hyde to Court, which meant of course that I must leave. Henriette was heartbroken. No one would have thought she was going back to a brilliant marriage. She said she would be loath to tear herself away from England and her brother and she went about with a woebegone face. But I considered I had been insulted. My son had given preference to a woman of no standing who had brought a child into the world which had come near to being a bastard—and in any case she was not of the rank to mate with royalty. And for this woman he was turning his own mother out of Court!

Henriette explained with exasperating patience that he was not turning me out. I was going of my own free will.

I said: “He leaves me no alternative. He forgets that though he is a king I am a queen…and his mother.”

“He does not forget, Mam. He is grieved that you are going like this.”

“A strange way of showing grief! All he has to do is not receive that woman and I will postpone my departure.”

“He can’t do that. She is James’s wife.”

“Wife! To how many men has she been what you call a wife?”

“But they have all confessed to lying about her. I think they are despicable…every one of them.”

I turned away. Even Henriette was against me.

A few days before I was to leave a messenger came from France. News of what had happened had reached the Court there, for scandalous news always traveled faster than any other. The letter was from Mazarin and was very discreetly worded, but I read the meaning between the lines and there could be no mistaking their intent. He clearly implied that if I quarreled with my son I should not be very welcome in France. The fact was that Charles had given both me and Henriette handsome pensions and had promised a sizable dowry for Henriette, and Mazarin doubted Charles would pay this if there was a rift between us. And would Philippe want to marry Henriette without a dowry? It was the return of Charles to the throne which had made Henriette so desirable.

I was in a dilemma. What could I do? Hold up my pride and return to France…a beggar almost, for it might well be that our money from England would not be paid. No dowry for Henriette! Charles might be pleased for his favorite sister to stay in England and I knew she would like that very much. No, I could not exist again as I had all those years depending on the charity of others, and in my heart I felt I might be in danger of doing so if I did not remain on good terms with my son; and I certainly should not be if I left England as I was proposing to do.

The only alternative was to accept Anne Hyde. So I agreed to receive the woman.

I shall never forget the scene of my humiliation. Charles must have decided not to spare me. It could have been done more quietly but Charles pointed out that it must be seen to be done.

I was obliged to ask my son James, most formally, to bring his wife to my bedchamber that I might receive her. Naturally, because so many knew what had gone before, my bedchamber was crowded with busy-bodies who had come to witness the reconciliation.

I was furious and all the time had to keep reminding myself of the old days of humiliation and that on no account must they recur. It was blackmail. Still I had worked hard for my husband; I could do the same for my daughter.

When the woman came with James it was less difficult than I had anticipated, for she showed no triumph or aggression and was in fact most humble. I had sent Henriette away as I did not want her to see me act as I should have to. My excuse was that with the small pox epidemic raging I feared there might be danger for her among so many people.

Anne Hyde knelt to me most deferentially when James presented her and I bent over and kissed her. She was a pleasant-looking young woman with, I had to admit, an open honest face. If she had been of nobler birth I could easily have accepted her.

I did feel a twinge of gratitude to her for making my task slightly easier than it could have been. I led her into the anteroom and with her on one side and James on the other we made our way through the press of courtiers and sat down and talked a little.

I asked about the baby whom they were going to call Charles, and James asked if I would be a godmother. I said I would.

Then I had done all that was required of me, I thought. But it appeared not quite, for Charles wanted me to receive the Earl of Clarendon, which I did, although I had always disliked the man and more so since the trouble with his daughter had arisen.

He was very respectful to me and I told him that I was happy to be a mother to his daughter. Then I hinted that in return for my capitulation he should do all he could for me. He knew what I meant, for he was a most astute man and as Chancellor had a great influence in the country. What I was implying was that there should be no holding back of Henriette’s dowry and our pensions.

I felt exhausted after the interview, but I was aware that Clarendon was very pleased at the outcome and I trusted him to do what he had promised for me.

The day after the public reconciliation we prepared to leave for France and then I had my greatest fright, for I greatly feared that in spite of my efforts to protect Henriette she too might have caught the small pox which had carried off her brother and sister. No sooner had we left Portsmouth and were indeed still in sight of the harbor than Henriette became violently ill. I was terrified because this was not due to the sea. I consulted with the Captain and persuaded him to take the ship back into port. My daughter was in need of the best possible medical attention.