Charles was fit to be the head of his court, for he was among the wittiest there. He was a good teller of a story, and fond of exhibiting his talent. Walpole proposed to make a collection of his witty sayings, and Peter Cunningham carried out this idea in “The Story of Nell Gwyn.”
Curiously enough, Pepys held a very poor opinion of the King’s power in this respect. On one occasion he says Charles’s stories were good, although “he tells them but meanly.”[249] At another time he alludes to “the silly discourse of the King.”[250]
The Diarist must surely have been prejudiced, for the general opinion on this point, and the stories that have come down to us, are against him. That was a happy distinction made by Charles when he said of Godolphin, then a page at court, that he was never _in_ the way, and never _out_ of the way. Of the King’s natural abilities there can be no doubt. He took an intelligent interest in the formation of the Royal Society, and passed many hours in his own laboratory. Pepys visited this place on January 15th, 1668–69, and was much pleased with it. He saw there “a great many chymical glasses and things, but understood none of them.”
The King was fond of seeing and making dissections,[251] and the very month he died he was engaged in some experiments on the production of mercury.
His greatest fault was want of faith, for he believed neither in the honour of man nor the virtue of woman; and, as a consequence, he lived down to his debased views. His religion always sat lightly upon him, but such as it was it was not that of a Protestant. James II. told Pepys, in a private conversation, that Charles had been a Roman Catholic some long time before his death.[252]
Charles’s relations with women were singularly heartless. His conduct towards his wife was abominable, although when in her company he was usually polite. On the occasion of her serious illness, when she was like to die, he conjured her to live for his sake, and Grammont hints that he was disappointed when she took him at his word.
The Queen, although not beautiful, was pleasing in appearance, and the King appears to have been satisfied with her when she arrived in England, for he wrote to Clarendon, that her eyes were excellent and her voice agreeable, adding, “If I have any skill in physiognomy, which I think I have, she must be as good a woman as ever was born.” A few days after he wrote to the Chancellor in these words, “My brother will tell you of all that passes here, which I hope will be to your satisfaction. I am sure ’tis so much to mine that I cannot easily tell you how happy I think myself, and I must be the worst man living (which I hope I am not) if I be not a good husband. I am confident never two humors were better fitted together than ours are.”[253] Yet shortly after writing thus, he thrust his abandoned mistress, Lady Castlemaine, upon this virtuous wife; so that from his own mouth we can condemn him. Pepys reports a sharp answer (“a wipe,” he calls it) which the Queen made to the favourite. Lady Castlemaine came in and found the Queen under the dresser’s hand, which she had been for a long time. “I wonder your Majesty,” says she, “can have the patience to sit so long adressing?”--“I have so much reason to use patience,” says the Queen, “that I can very well bear with it.”[254]