Meanwhile, in Paris, Henrietta was dragging on her old life of intrigue and disappointment. The presence at her side of Jermyn, whose great influence over her was generally remarked,[340] was not in her favour, either with the extreme Catholics, who disliked him as a heretic, or with the French, who considered him, with justice, to be a man of mediocre ability, and who were pleased to see that the Queen, in spite of her subservience, could sometimes assert her will against his. The French Government was becoming more and more afraid to provoke the Puritans, whom Mazarin feared to throw into the arms of Spain. The defeat of Naseby, whose importance the Queen and her friends vainly endeavoured to minimize, was followed by the hardly less disastrous day of Philiphaugh, when Montrose was overwhelmed by an army of the Covenant. Thus the year 1646 broke in gloom and despondency, which were not lightened when a scheme of the Queen's for the invasion of England by French troops was discovered by the interception of her letters.[341] In the spring affairs had so far advanced that Charles, with a confidence rendered pathetic by the event, gave himself up into the hands of the Scots, the true compatriots of a Stuart King. For a moment there seemed to be hope, and it is possible that Charles might have recovered his crown had he been able to accept unreservedly the Covenant. His refusal to give up the Church of England, which was one of the most respectable acts of his life, brought upon him remonstrances, entreaties, and almost anger from his wife, to whom all Protestants were heretics alike. She even sent D'Avenant to him to represent her wishes on the subject; but Charles, with a violence he did not often show, drove the hapless poet from his presence with an intimation that he was never to enter it again. Mazarin at this time seems to have desired the King's restoration by means of an accommodation, though, owing to the ever-present fear of Spain, he would not openly assist him. He could not repress his scorn for the man who could throw away his crown for such a bagatelle as the Church of England. In fact, he frankly owned that he could not understand Charles. The latter had granted concessions which compromised his kingly dignity; why make a fuss about a trifle which, nevertheless, if conceded, might restore him to power? The Cardinal urged the French ambassador in England to do all he could to bring the King to reason; but the latter, who was becoming very sceptical as to the friendship of the French,[342] was not likely to listen. The chance was lost, and Charles soon found himself a prisoner in the hands of the English Presbyterians. His countrymen, to whom in the days of his power he had shown favour not always in accordance with his own interests, had sold him to his enemies.