Madame Baviere, in her letters, says, “Charles the First’s widow made a clandestine marriage, with her _Chevalier d’ Honneur_, Lord St. Alban’s, who treated her extremely ill, so that whilst she had not a faggot to warm herself, he had in his apartment a good fire, and a sumptuous table. He never gave the queen a kind word, and when she spoke to him, he used to say, _Que me veut cette femme?_” To what a miserable state the queen was reduced may be seen in the following extract from De Retz’s Memoirs, (vol. 1. p. 261.) “Four or five days before the king removed from Paris, I went to visit the queen of England, whom I found in her daughter’s chamber, who hath been since Duchess of Orleans. At my coming in she said, ‘You see I am come to keep Henrietta company. The poor child could not rise to-day for want of a fire.’ The truth is, that the cardinal for six months together had not ordered her any money towards her pension; that no trades-people would trust her for any thing; and that there was not at her lodgings in the Louvre one single billet. You will do me the justice to suppose that the princess of England did not keep her bed the next day for want of a faggot; but it was not this which the Princess of Conde meant in her letter. What she spoke about was, that some days after my visiting the queen of England, I remembered the condition I had found her in, and had strongly represented the shame of abandoning her in that manner, which caused the Parliament to send 40,000 livres to her Majesty. Posterity will hardly believe that a Princess of England, grand-daughter of Henry the Great, hath wanted a faggot in the month of January, to get out of bed in the Louvre, and in the eyes of a French court. We read in histories, with horror, of baseness less monstrous than this; and the little concern I have met with about it in most people’s minds, has obliged me to make, I believe, a thousand times this reflection—that examples of times past move men beyond comparison more than those of their own times. We accustom ourselves to what we see; and I have sometimes told you, that I doubted whether Caligula’s horse being made a consul would have surprized us so much as we imagine.” As for the relative situations of the king (Charles II.) and Lord Jermyn, (afterwards St. Alban’s) Lord Clarendon (Hist. of the Rebellion, vol. 3. p. 2) says that the “Marquis of Ormond was compelled to put himself in prison, with other gentlemen, at a pistole a week for his diet, and to walk the streets a-foot, which was no honourable custom in Paris, whilst the Lord Jermyn kept an excellent table for those who courted him, and had a coach of his own, and all other accommodations incident to the most full fortune; and if the king had the most urgent occasion for the use but of twenty pistoles, as sometimes he had, he could not find credit to borrow it, which he often had experiment of.”