[Footnote 419: D. G. Rossetti.] [Footnote 420: Of Chaillot literally not one stone remains upon another. The convent was destroyed in the Revolution, and its site is occupied by the Trocadero.] CHAPTER XII THE END La mort a des rigueurs à nulle autre pareilles; Ou a beau la prier, La cruelle qu'elle est, se bouche les oreilles, Et nous laisse crier. Le pauvre en sa cabine, où le chaume le couvre, Est sujet à ses lois; Et la garde qui veille aux barrières du Louvre, N'en défend point nos rois. FRANÇOIS DE MALHERBE In the end the Restoration came as a joyful surprise to Queen Henrietta and her sons. After all the struggles, after all the intrigues, after all the schemes, Charles Stuart returned to the throne of his father by the free choice of a people afraid of a military despotism, weary of the disorders which had followed the death of Cromwell, and remembering that, after all, the exiled King had had little or no complicity in the deeds which brought his father to the scaffold. England was tired of Puritanism, and was preparing with all eagerness to welcome the Merry Monarch. France, which had shown herself decidedly tepid in helping the King of England in his adversities, and had, even at the nod of the usurper, driven him beyond her borders, was quite ready to rejoice at his good luck. Even Mazarin offered the most gratifying sympathy, while Queen Anne and the common people manifested a more real gladness. The English colony in Paris was naturally almost beside itself with joy and triumph, which burst forth in noisy rejoicings, wherein music, drinking, and fireworks played about equal parts. As for Henrietta, her joy was too deep for words. The small but pretty house at Colombes, where she now spent much of her time, was the scene of suitable festivity, but she was probably glad when she could retire to Chaillot to receive the sympathy of Mother de la Fayette, and to assist at a solemn Te Deum of thanksgiving, which was sung in the chapel of the convent. When the news came that her son, on his landing in England, had almost been torn to pieces in the delight of his subjects, her joy was complete. "At last," she wrote in a happy letter to her sister Christine, "at last the good God has looked upon us in His mercy, and has worked, so to speak, a miracle in this re-establishment, having in an instant changed the hearts of a people which has passed from the greatest hatred to expressions of the greatest possible kindness and submission, marked, moreover, by expressions of unparalleled joy."[421] The King, her son, she added, would, she believed, be more powerful than any of his predecessors, a forecast in which she showed her usual lack of political penetration, for the English people, even in the delirium of loyalty of the Restoration, did not throw away the fruits of the long struggle.