I liked George Goring. He was the son of the Earl of Norwich and was exceptionally handsome and charming. His looks led him into temptation, however, and he was somewhat profligate and because he was so extravagant he had had to go and live frugally abroad for some time. But he had good friends—among them the Earl of Strafford—and a place was found for him in the Army where he had the rank of colonel with the command of twenty-two companies. He was shot in the leg in battle, which had resulted in his being a little lame.

When he asked for an audience I was delighted to grant it and even more delighted when he laid his plans before me.

“The trial is going against Strafford,” he said, “and the Parliament is striking at the King through the Earl.”

I replied that I feared this was so.

“Well, Your Majesty,” said the dashing man who was about the same age as I was, “are we going to sit back and let them lead us by the nose?”

“It is the last thing I want to do.”

“Well, we must act,” said Goring. “The Army should be in London and the first thing to do would be to seize the Tower.”

My eyes gleamed and I clapped my hands. Action at last. Positive action. It was what I had craved for.

He talked excitedly about how he would achieve the desired effect. He would want to be made Lieutenant General of the Army. That would be essential.

I agreed that this should be.

“Madam,” he said, “I came to you because I know what weight your word carries with the King. I knew I could be sure of your understanding and sympathy. Will you put this plan to the King?”

I said that most certainly I would and I could scarcely wait to see Charles.

When I did see him I was so excited that I began by telling him that we were going to defeat our enemies because we had the Army on our side and I would prove this to him.

He looked rather abstracted. Then he said: “First I will tell you my news.”

“Yes, yes,” I said impatiently. “What is it? Be quick for you will be so excited by my news.”

“I want to tell you of a plot which involves the Army.”

At first I thought he was talking about the same one and that George Goring must have gone to him after all. But that was not so. It seemed that there was another plot which involved four Members of Parliament—all officers of the Army—who were disturbed by the course events were taking.

“They tell me,” said Charles excitedly, “that the Army does not like the Parliamentarians and is eager to rise against them.”

“This is wonderful,” I cried. “Who are these men?”

“They are all in Parliament and that is significant. You know them: Henry Percy, Henry Wilmot, William Ashburton and Hugh Pollard.”

“And George Goring…?”

The King looked surprised and I could contain myself no longer. “George Goring has been to see me. He has a wonderful idea for seizing the Tower and bringing down troops from the North to take London.”

“George Goring…” murmured the King. Then he turned to me, his eyes alight with hope. “So there are two separate plots afoot. This shows well the feelings of our friends. Oh, my love, at last I see some light in the sky.”

I hugged him fiercely; then I was serious and so was he, I could see that we both had the same idea. There must not be two plots. The conspirators must join up and work together. Taking the Tower was an excellent idea; the four noble gentlemen must be informed of it.

“We shall link up the two parties,” I cried excitedly.

“With the greatest care,” replied Charles. “You know we are closely watched. It would not do for us to be seen with either party yet.”

“We need a go-between,” I said, my eyes sparkling.

“Someone whom we can trust. Who is the most loyal supporter we have. Jermyn, I think.”

I was very fond of Henry Jermyn. The slanders which have been uttered regarding my relationship with him are utterly false, but that does not mean I did not have a great regard for him. To be involved in these plots was dangerous and, for someone who was outside both of them and would have the delicate task of linking them up, it could be doubly dangerous.

“Not Jermyn,” I said firmly. “He is too close to us. Any unusual movement on his part would be immediately noticed.”

“We must have someone we can trust.”

“I know, but I don’t think it would be wise for Henry Jermyn to do this.”

“I think it would be most unwise to trust anyone else to do it.”

“Jermyn is not the man.”

“Jermyn is the man.”

In the past there would have been a stormy scene but we did not have those now; we were both too emotionally involved with danger and each other for quarrels. I did not want Henry Jermyn to involve himself in danger. I relied on him a good deal and he had been a great comfort to me. He was such a merry man and Charles was so sober. Of course my feelings toward Jermyn were those of a queen to a dear friend and were quite different from my relationship with Charles.

At last I agreed that Henry Jermyn should meet both sets of conspirators and persuade them to work together. Henry willingly undertook the task but after a while he came to me and I could see that he was a little worried.

“Goring is a very ambitious man,” he said, “and you know the King is really more in favor of the Percy and Wilmot plan to get the country to declare for the King against the Parliament. Wilmot confessed to me that he thought the capture of the Tower would prove too difficult and if it failed the entire enterprise would fail with it. Goring is not very pleased. He is set on being in command. Wilmot however wants that role for himself.”

“Oh, these petty quarrels,” I cried. “They should forget about them at such a time.”

I thought they had, for Goring gave way to Wilmot and went to Portsmouth to make preparations as we had decided.

It was Lucy who broke the news to me. She was very well informed of what was going on and I talked to her a great deal, although Charles had warned me not to mention the Army Plot to anyone…simply not anyone…and I had obeyed him in this.

I knew by her face as soon as I saw her that something dramatic had happened. I cried: “What is it? What is it?”

“There has been a plot,” she told me. “The Army is involved. They planned to take the Tower and march on London.”

I felt my heart beating wildly as the color drained from my face. “A…a plot?” I stammered.

“Yes…against the Parliament. Wilmot is one involved, with Percy.”

“No!” I cried.

“This will decide the case against Strafford.”

“Why Strafford? He has nothing to do with it.”

“He is against the Parliament and for the King.”

“I…I don’t understand.”

“John Pym spoke in the House about it. He has all the details and a list of the conspirators.”

I thought: Can we never succeed? Then I thought of Henry Jermyn whom I had allowed to become involved. They would be called traitors, all of them, and I knew what sort of death awaited traitors. I was sick with fear and worry and while we were talking a guard came to the door of the apartment.

“Your Majesty,” he said with his usual respect, “I have orders that no one shall leave the palace.”

“Does that include the Queen?” I asked ironically.

“My orders were no one, Madam.”

“Young man,” I said. “I am the daughter of Henri Quatre, the great King of France. He never fled in danger nor am I about to.”

The guard looked ashamed and murmured that he must obey his superior officers.

“I do not blame you,” I told him. “It is your masters who will have to pay for this.”

There was one thought in my head. I must get a message to Henry Jermyn. He must get away quickly as, of course, must all the conspirators.

I smuggled a message out to him and was relieved when I heard that he had already left London and was on his way to Portsmouth to warn Goring of what had happened. They would have no alternative but to leave the country and from Portsmouth they would have a good opportunity of doing so.

Meanwhile I remained at Whitehall but I did see that it was dangerous for me to stay there. The best plan would be for me to leave secretly and to make my way to Portsmouth. If I could get there and across to France I could see my brother and perhaps raise money and gather an army to fight for Charles.

I think I might have got away for the guards had now been withdrawn. I had gathered together my jewels and a few things and arranged for the coach to be ready, but just as I was about to leave, the French ambassador arrived at the palace. He regarded me with some dismay when he saw that I was on the verge of departure.

“Your Majesty cannot leave now,” he cried. “That would be disastrous.”

“How can I stay here? The people are murmuring against me. It is not safe for me…my mother or my children.”

“Nevertheless to go now would be the worst thing possible. Do you know what is happening?”

I covered my face with my hands. “I only know that everything we do results in failure. I have to get away. I have to find money and men. I must save the King.”

“Your Majesty, the Army Plot was betrayed to the Parliament by George Goring.”

“George Goring! No! Never!”

“That is so. He wanted to be in command and there was conflict with Wilmot on this issue—so to take his revenge he informed against the plotters.”

“I cannot believe it.”

“Whether Your Majesty does or not it is true,” he said. “The conspirators have escaped to France. I will say this for Goring. He let Jermyn go…Jermyn came to warn him that the plot was betrayed and, not knowing who the traitor was, urged Goring to get away quickly. Goring could have arrested Jermyn on the spot but apparently he had enough decency to desist from that.”

“And Jermyn?” I asked anxiously.

“Is safely on his way to Rome.”

“I thank God for that.”

“And, Madam, do you know what is being said about you and Jermyn?”

“I know people will tell any lies about me.”

“They are saying that he is your lover. If you fled now and joined him and the others what is now speculation would be taken as certainty.”

“Oh, the wickedness of it!” I cried. “How dare they!”

“They would dare much,” said stern Montreuil, “and I beg you to give them no more cause to do so. Some of your ladies have been questioned and they speak of nocturnal visits to meet men of the Parliament.”

“It was to persuade them to help the Earl of Strafford.”

“The actions of a queen who made midnight assignations with various men could be misconstrued.”

“I never heard such nonsense. I am the King’s loyal wife and subject.”

“We know, Madam, and those close to you have no doubt of it. But a queen must not only be beyond reproach but be seen to be, and your behavior has scarcely been restrained.”

“This is no time for restraint. It is time for action. Oh, why is everyone against me!”

“That is untrue. As your brother’s ambassador I am here to serve you and I can do that best by giving you the truth.”

He had gained his point. I knew that I must stay for a while yet.

That very day news came. The revelation of the Army Plot had decided them. Strafford was found guilty—among other charges—of attempting to bring an army over from Ireland to fight the English.

He was sentenced to death.

I know that Charles has been blamed for what happened next and I know too that he had no alternative but to do it.

What terrible days they were! They marked the beginning of the débâcle.

The King came to Whitehall. He was strained and more unhappy than I had ever seen him. His thoughts were all for Strafford. He had loved that man, and I had been fond of him too. Neither of us could bear to contemplate what would happen to him.

“He must not die,” Charles said again and again. “I have promised him that he shall not die.”

“You are the King,” I reminded him. “You will refuse to sign the death warrant and they cannot kill him without that. You are still the King, remember, though these miserable Puritans try to pretend otherwise.”

“No,” said Charles firmly, “I shall not sign the death warrant.”

London was afire with the desire to see Strafford’s head severed from his body. Why did the common people love such sights? Was it because those whom they had envied might now be envying them since, in spite of lack of wealth and standing, they at least had life. Perhaps. But in any case the mob was howling for Strafford’s blood.