“It is true. The King stands between you and these villains. Thank God for that. But you are in great danger, and it may be that even the King cannot save you. You must take great care. I think you should write to your brother. It would be better for you to leave the country…perhaps…”
I shook my head. “I would never do that, Count. I shall remain here. I have great faith in my husband.”
“There is something else. I must tell you, for I think it is important that you should understand all and miss nothing. The fact that Oates has been proved to be lying…although the people do not accept this…is forgotten, for Bedloe is now supporting these accusations against you.”
“Bedloe?”
“Yes, my lady. He, also, is now saying that he overheard a conversation between you and two French priests. Coleman was there at the time, he says, and some Jesuits. It was in the gallery of the chapel at Somerset House. He says you were told of the plot to murder the King. At first you wept and said you would have nothing to do with such a plan, and when you were reminded of the King’s infidelities you at length consented to take part in it.”
“What lies!”
“Your Majesty, these people have achieved notoriety through lies.”
“How can people believe their wild tales?”
“Because they want to believe. There are so many who fear a Catholic king on the throne of this country. But they will have to take James…when the time comes.”
“They will not have James.”
“They will…and with God’s help England will in time be brought back to the true faith…but I know there are many who are set against it.”
“They do not like me. There are many who would like to see me in the Tower. They think they will overcome the King’s scruples because he is eager to be rid of me. They see him with the Duchess of Portsmouth. He is so often in her company. He is devoted to the playactress Nell Gwynne. And I am a Catholic and barren. Quite unsuitable, you see. They think it will be safe to tempt him to be rid of me. Sometimes it seems like a miracle that he is determined to stand beside me.”
“Your Majesty, I am convinced that you should write to your brother.”
“What could he do?”
“He is the King of Portugal. They have been whispering about King Henry VIII. Remember, Catherine of Aragon might have lost her head if she had not been the aunt of the Emperor Charles.”
“And so she lived through years of unhappiness and humiliation.”
“This is different. This King shows his concern for you and the other showed none for his wife. Write to King Pedro. It can do no harm. I would do so, but I am out of favor. If it were Alfonso it would be different.”
“I feel very uneasy….”
“It is understandable that you should be.”
“Come and see me soon,” I said. “You are one of the few I can trust.”
When he had gone I wrote to Pedro, though I could not believe there was anything he could do to save me. I could rely only on Charles.
QUEEN IN DANGER
I AM SURE TITUS OATES WAS DETERMINED TO INCRIMINATE me after Charles had disconcerted him over his false descriptions of my apartments.
It is difficult now to see myself as I was at that time. How does one feel when one is more or less under sentence of death? There were times when I felt that the axe was poised over my head, and I would become numb with fear. At others I would feel a certain exultation. One swift sharp blow and my troubles would be over. There was even a moment when I felt a sublime indifference. I was innocent of what they accused me. As if I would plot to kill the one I loved beyond all others! There was one thought which was always with me during those days. It was that he believed in my innocence and it was he who had stood between me and my enemies. There were times when I said to myself, they will have to destroy him before he allows them to destroy me.
Perhaps it was that thought which enabled me to meet the days with a serenity which amazed those about me.
Poor Donna Maria was too old and infirm to know what was happening. I was glad of that. I was relieved that my mother was no longer here, for she would have learned of my danger and it would have wounded her deeply to know that all her plans for me had led to this.
I often thought of those first days in England at Hampton, where I had known the supreme joy of loving and believing myself to be loved; and I tried not to remember that cruel awakening when Lady Castlemaine came to shatter my happiness.
It was over…and Charles was now here beside me, my protector.
The Count had been right when he had said that Bedloe had told of how he had heard me plotting with the Jesuits in the chapel at Somerset House. Bedloe, no doubt urged on by Titus Oates, had written his accusation and delivered it to the House of Commons.
I heard what had happened when his words were read out, how Titus Oates approached the Bar and declared in ringing tones: “I, Titus Oates, accuse Catherine Queen of England of High Treason.”
I was told of the astonishment of the House and how, for some seconds after the announcement, there was a deep silence.
Titus Oates had his supporters, Shaftesbury at the head of them, and it was proposed that an address should be sent to the King without delay and that I, with all my household, should be committed to the Tower on a charge of High Treason.
I had never come nearer death. They had accused me, and they would find means of proving me guilty. The truth was of no consequence to them.
It was fortunate for me that such action could not be taken without the consent of the Lords and their verdict was that they would not treat me as guilty until it was proved that I was, and they would need more than the accusation of men like Oates before they did.
Shaftesbury was infuriated by the rejection of the Commons decision, but there was nothing he could do.
It was Charles’s reaction which put heart into me.
He was very angry. He ordered that Oates should be arrested and put under guard. He declared that he would not suffer an innocent lady to be wronged as these men were trying to wrong the Queen.
I wept with joy at his response, but I soon realized that, in spite of his power, even he could not completely withstand the demands of the people.
There was an outcry about the incarceration of Titus Oates, and the people demanded that he be freed.
It was only then that Charles realized what a hold that man had on the people, how they revered him, how they waited for every word he uttered.
And my fate seemed to be in the hands of such a creature.
Count Castelmelhor came to me in great dismay.
“Oh, my lady,” he cried, “I have lived in such fear. When I heard of Oates’s declamation at the Bar I thought it was the end.”
“I, too,” I said.
I touched my neck with my fingers. I could almost feel the axe there.
“But,” went on the Count, “it did not happen.”
“No. The Peers saved me…and then the King.”
“The Peers just wanted more evidence…and do you doubt Oates would not have invented that? It was the King who saved Your Majesty. If he had given way in the slightest degree…”
“It would have been the end of me.”
“Thank God and all the saints for His Majesty the King.”
What strange feelings possessed me! I had come within a few steps of the axe. No one who has not experienced that can understand what it is like…and at the same time I was exultant because I owed my life to Charles.
Charles himself came to see me.
He looked at me, smiling that rather careless smile, as though there was nothing to disturb our serenity.