To aggravate the difficulty of the situation, Henrietta had been sent to England as though she were a missionary of the Propaganda going forth to fight her battle for God and the Church. Urban VIII had exhorted her to prove the guardian angel of the English Catholics and told her that the eyes of both worlds, earthly and spiritual, were upon her; while, on taking leave of her, Marie de’ Medici had placed in her hands a lengthy epistle, purporting to contain her own final counsels and admonitions, though in all probability it was the work of her confessor Bérulle, in which she was enjoined to model her conduct upon that of her ancestor Saint-Louis, and, like him, to fight a good fight for the Christian [_i.e._, Roman Catholic] religion, in defence of which he exposed his life, dying faithful amongst infidels. The sequel leaves no doubt that the child--she was but fifteen--took to heart the lessons which she had received. Charles I’s dream of domestic happiness speedily vanished. On the road to London there was a warm dispute between the royal pair on the question of the precedence to be enjoyed by Madame de Saint-George, Henrietta’s lady of the bedchamber, to whom the young Queen was tenderly attached; and this affair appears to have embittered the early days of their married life. Other troubles were not long in arriving, for Henrietta was impetuous and indiscreet, Charles punctilious and tactless. After a very short stay in London, their Majesties, to escape the plague which was devastating the capital, removed to Hampton Court. A few days later, a deputation from the Privy Council waited upon the Queen to acquaint her with the regulations which the King desired should be observed in his Household, which were substantially the same as those which had been in force during the lifetime of his mother, Anne of Denmark. Henrietta took umbrage at once. “I hope,” she replied pettishly, “I shall have leave to order my house as I list myself.” Charles attempted to argue the point with her in private, but the answer he received was so rude that he did not venture to transcribe it when a year later he sent a long account of his consort’s misdoings to his ambassador in France, with the intention that it should be submitted to Marie de’ Medici. As time went on, matters grew worse. The Queen obstinately declined to make any attempt to learn the English language or to understand English customs, and appeared to regard herself as in a foreign land, where everyone was hostile to her. Even her almoner, the Bishop of Mende, a prelate in no way inclined to be over-conciliatory, was forced to admit that “it would be _à propos_ should the Queen show a greater degree of courtesy towards the King and the great dignitaries of State; adding that to none, of what rank soever, did she pay so much as a compliment.”