Among all the activities of Queen Henrietta Maria's life none deserves more careful study than those connected with her work for her co-religionists in England.

The French marriage of Charles I represented, in a measure, a compromise between the hopes of the English Catholics and the fears of the English Puritans. From the point of view of the latter an alliance with any Catholic Princess was a misfortune; but, nevertheless, Henrietta was regarded as a modified evil by those who had feared a Spanish Infanta. Spain was the old enemy, the land which had sent out the Great Armada, and which in every way had fostered the most militant and uncompromising elements of English Catholicism; France, if unfortunately it had not fulfilled the promise it had once given of becoming a Protestant country, was Catholic in another and a far less rigid sense, and it was remembered that Henrietta was the daughter of the man who had been at one time the hope of the Reformers, and who, if he had deserted his faith with a light-hearted cynicism not often to be paralleled, had found at the end that the Mass which gained Paris for him could not save him from the knife of the man who was believed to be the pupil of the Jesuits. The qualified satisfaction which was general in England is well reflected in the following paragraph which appeared in a newsletter when it was known that the negotiations for the marriage were approaching completion:—

"The first tidings of this joyfull newes were welcome unto all except Jezuited English who have not so much hope to accomplish their ambitious projects, allwayes hurtfull to the good and tranquillity of this Kingdome by this Marriage of France, as they had by that of Spaine, since all men know who know any thing at all, how all true-hearted Frenchmen detest and hate this cruell king-killing Ignatian order since the death and murther of two Burbonian Henries kild by them and their accomplices."[104]

But, on the other hand, the substitution of a French for a Spanish Queen was a severe blow to the English Catholics. These heroic men who, hiding their heads "mid ignomy, death and tombs," had kept alive through years of persecution the faith of their fathers, had acquired something of the harshness and narrowness which belongs to a persecuted remnant. The more liberal type of Catholicism prevalent in France was not congenial to them,[105] and they had, moreover, good reason to be grateful to the House of Austria. The King of Spain not only permitted English seminaries and religious houses to be established in Spain and in the Low Countries, but he even supported some of them with pensions, and during the negotiations with James I for a matrimonial alliance he showed both his will and his power to protect the English Catholics at home, where a peace of the Church was then enjoyed which was long remembered in less happy times. All persecution ceased, and at St. James's Palace a Catholic Chapel was seen in course of building, designed for the use of the Spanish Queen who never came.

It was not likely that the eyes of Richelieu,[106] which saw everything, should fail to observe the unfortunate predilection of the English Catholics for the enemies of France, and there is no doubt that one of the reasons for which Henrietta was sent into England was to detach them from this alliance. During the period of negotiations Richelieu wrote a friendly letter to the Catholic body in England,[107] and the French ambassadors were charged to do all in their power to win the confidence of its principal members, and to combat the wiles of the Spaniards, who tried to persuade them that the French had no true regard for religion. Ville-aux-clercs, when he was in London, was on one occasion obliged to attend a service at Westminster Abbey. He was careful to behave with the utmost rudeness, in order to show the uncompromising character of a Frenchman's Catholicism.[108] TilliÈres took great pains to conciliate the chiefs of the English Catholics, and to persuade them that his master was as good a Catholic as the King of Spain. But it was no easy task, and it was not until Louis XIII had stayed the passage of an anti-Catholic law in the English Parliament that they began to feel some confidence in him. Then a letter of thanks was sent to Paris,[109] and even the Jesuits, who were considered peculiarly pro-Spanish, wrote to express their desire for the coming alliance. Matters were the more satisfactory inasmuch as William Smith, who had recently been consecrated Bishop of Chalcedon, and who, in the teeth of the Jesuits, claimed the jurisdiction of an ordinary in England, was well known in France, where he had resided for many years in the household of Richelieu. It was, moreover, with the same object that the French Government insisted upon the promise to suspend the execution of the recusancy laws as a sine qua non of the marriage, "otherwise," wrote TilliÈres frankly, "the English Catholics will be lost to France and assured to Spain."[110] Thus Richelieu's action in this particular fits into his general scheme of anti-Austrian policy, and he is cleared from any suspicion that he was actuated by weak religious scruples in thus setting himself against the Protestant prejudice of England.

Henrietta was probably not unconscious of the dubious reception which would be afforded to her by her co-religionists, and her advisers were still more alive to the necessity of her making a good impression upon the English Catholics. At first all went well. Those who were unaware of the religious revival which was taking place in France were surprised at the piety of BÉrulle (who was one of the leaders of the revival), and at the zeal of the Bishop of Mende,[111] who, with great diplomacy, took care to interest himself in the general affairs of his co-religionists in England. The young Queen herself, who in Paris had not been remarkable for devotion, seemed on entering the heretic country to be dowered with a new piety and zeal. She showed great compassion for her Catholic subjects, and such devotion to her religious duties that she heard Mass every day, even when she was on one of the frequent progresses of the English Court, and on Sundays listened to a sermon and attended Vespers, which was usually enlivened by instrumental music. "Can such good things come out of Galilee?" was the wondering question of the pro-Spanish English Catholic; and if he suspended his ultimate judgment, he at least rejoiced for the time in the edifying conduct of those whose presence was the guarantee of his peace.

Even some of the Protestants seemed softened. Henrietta, in her earlier days, before sorrow deepened and hardened her character, was far from a bigot, and indeed the daughter of Henry IV never had in her the true stuff of fanaticism. When just after her marriage some one was rude enough to ask her if she disliked Huguenots, she answered gently, "Why should I? My father was one"; and some of BÉrulle's enemies, "the ministers," presuming on such girlish kindliness, boasted that in six months she would be at their preachings. Others, less sanguine, contented themselves with admiring the decorum of the services to which curiosity led them, and with praising the outward regularity of the lives of the Oratorian Fathers. Thus the Catholics had ground for hope, but not for exultation. "These are flowers of hopes," wrote the cautious BÉrulle, "but nothing but flowers and, moreover, flowers surrounded by thorns. These are hopes, but they have need of a greater maturity in the Queen and more persevering conduct on the part of France."[112]

It was therefore the greater disappointment when the persecution of 1625 fell. Nor was it a slight and passing storm. Never, even in the days of Edward VI or Elizabeth, had the Catholics been in such evil case, except that the death penalty, to which the King had an invincible repugnance, was not exacted.[113] But the most loyal of laymen, such as the Marquis of Winchester, suffered in their goods, while the prisons became veritable cloisters of religious. It is not surprising that the persecuted contrasted the peace and security of the days of mere negotiations with Spain with the misery brought about by a consummated marriage with France, or that Richelieu and his emissaries in England ground their teeth with rage to see those whom they had hoped to capture flung back again into the arms of His Catholic Majesty.

Henrietta herself, though much distressed, did not despair. She had already discovered that her husband was naturally inclined to mercy, and she knew that persecution was to a great extent a financial expedient to fill the empty coffers of the State. Young as she was, she understood the task to which, religiously speaking, her marriage had called her,[114] for the performance of which the papal dispensation had been granted, and of which the importance had been impressed upon her by her mother, by BÉrulle, and by the Bishop of Mende, all of whom saw in her another Bertha who was to effect a new conversion of England. Even in the dark days of April, 1626, she did not falter. She was praying, she wrote to the Pope, who had honoured her with a Brief, not only that she might stand firm in the true religion, but that also she might "procure all the peace and comfort which I can for the Catholics of the Kingdoms, hoping that the natural goodness of the King my Lord, touched by a holy inspiration and by my ardent prayers, will produce some sweet and favourable effect for their comfort. And although up to now there has been little fruit of my endeavours, yet I promise myself that my persevering constancy, aided by divine assistance, will not always be useless to them."[115]

The first step towards a better state of things was the reconstruction of the Queen's religious establishment which had been so abruptly broken up. Charles was at first quite obdurate to the requests of the French Government, and refused not only to receive a Bishop as Grand Almoner,[116] but even to entertain the idea of the establishment of a religious Order in England. But in this case, as in many others, he was talked over. Years before, in Spain, he had been acquainted with some Capuchin Fathers who had impressed him by their good sense and piety. The Order was a humble one, not likely to mix in politics, and eventually he intimated that he would be willing to receive some of its members in the capacity of chaplains to his wife.

But difficulties arose. The two Fathers of the Oratory, who were still in England, had been drawn into the intrigues of Chateauneuf, and Father Philip was considered almost an enemy of France. The Capuchins, on the other hand, were under the protection of Fontenay-Mareuil, and they quite expected to see the members of the rival congregation expelled and the path left clear for themselves.

It was, therefore, a grave disappointment, when, on their arrival in England, they found that the Queen had no intention of changing her confessor, of whose long-headed Scotch prudence she had a just appreciation. The poor Capuchins, with a certain Father Leonard at their head, were subjected to considerable annoyances from the Chateauneuf clique and the Fathers of the Oratory,[117] who were more men of the world than they, did not scruple to show a refined contempt for them. So uncomfortable were they that but for the support of Fontenay-Mareuil they would almost have returned to France.

But they were cheered by the courtesy of the Queen. Henrietta, in spite of her refusal to submit to their direction, received them with all kindness, and settled them in her own establishment at Somerset House, where, to their great satisfaction, they were permitted to wear the religious habit. They were indeed simple men, so simple that she showed her wisdom in seeking a confessor elsewhere than among them; but they were zealous and disinterested, and, if at times they attempted to impose upon the ungodly Protestant by a profession of greater austerity than that actually practised, there was no sham in their labours among the sick and poor of plague-stricken London, or in their devotion to their religious duties.[118] They, on their side, became much attached to Henrietta, and it is to the pen of one of them, Father Cyprien de Gamache, who in his old age wrote his memoirs of the English mission, that we owe many curious particulars of the Queen's life.[119]

With the Capuchins came a more distinguished person, who shared with them for a while the dislike of Chateauneuf's friends.

Jacques de Nowell du Perron, a nephew of the famous Cardinal of that name, who had had much to do with the conversion of the Queen's father, came to London as the successor of the Bishop of Mende, but no two men could have been less alike, and perhaps du Perron was selected because Richelieu had learned by experience that "surtout point de zÈle" was a sound maxim in dealing with heretics. Certainly the second Grand Almoner of Henrietta Maria was as much liked as the first had been detested. A man of the softest manners, "neutral in every question whatsoever,"[120] as a stronger spirit said of him with a touch of contempt, he knew not only how to keep the favour of the French authorities who had sent him to England, but how to win that of Charles, whom he charmed by his flow of interesting talk, and of the Protestant public, who so respected the regularity of his life and the moderation of his conduct, that even on the eve of the Civil War he was regarded "as among the hated the least so."[121] There were moments when his task of serving many masters was difficult, as when his courtier's soul was vexed because, by obeying Henrietta's commands to officiate at a service of welcome to her mother,[122] he offended his patrons in Paris; but in the main his conduct met with its due reward. It was no small tribute to his tact and prudence that he so far obliterated from the mind of Charles the memory of the Bishop of Mende that he permitted him, in 1637, to accept the Bishopric of AngoulÊme without forfeiting his position as Grand Almoner of the Queen. He went off to France to be consecrated, and returned to England with all the dignity of episcopal rank.

It fell to the lot of this courtly ecclesiastic to officiate at one of the most picturesque ceremonies of Henrietta's London life. Among the unkept stipulations of the marriage contract was a provision for the building of a chapel for the Queen's use. Henrietta, at her first coming, had been obliged to content herself with a small and mean room in which her chaplains, as best they might, celebrated divine service. It was not until 1632[123] that she had so won her husband's heart as to wring from him by prayers and caresses, and sometimes even by tears, permission to build a church for her Capuchins, which should be at once a memorial of her religious zeal and a thank-offering for her married happiness, which now had been crowned by the birth of her little son.

On September the 14th the foundation-stone was laid. The site of the new building, which was the tennis courtyard of Somerset House, was fitted up as a temporary church with tapestries for walls and stuffs of great price for roof. A large and brilliant company, numbering at least two thousand persons, was present, while at the beautifully decked altar stood M. du Perron to sing a Mass, which was accompanied by rare voices and choice instrumental music, and at which the attendant ceremonies were so magnificent that a Frenchman who happened to be present confessed[124] that nothing more splendid could be seen at Notre-Dame de Paris, even when a King of France honoured that cathedral with his presence. The Mass ended, Henrietta stepped forward, handed by her brother's ambassador, M. de Fontenay-Mareuil, to whom the establishment of the Capuchins was so largely due. A trowel delicately fringed with velvet was offered to her, together with mortar served in a silver-gilt bowl. Thrice she threw the mortar on to the stone of foundation, which was then lowered into its place, bearing on a plate an inscription telling how she, the Queen of England and the daughter of France, had founded this temple for the honour of Catholicism and for the use of her servants the Capuchin Fathers.

This was one of Henrietta's brightest days, in which she tasted the joy her disappointed life knew so seldom, of seeing a happy result of her works and prayers. It began by a devout confession and reception of the Eucharist. It ended with cannon and fireworks and every sign of public rejoicing. So cordial seemed the attitude of the London populace that the rosiest hopes for the future were entertained, specially by the French,[125] who would have welcomed the conversion of England by a French Queen as a delicate triumph, not only over the heretic, but over the Spaniard.[126] These sanguine persons did not go about in the streets and taverns of the city to hear, under the official rejoicings, the curses, "not loud but deep," of the Puritan citizens.

The Queen's workmen, whom she encouraged by kind words and good pay, must have worked with energy, for by the middle of December in the same year the church was ready for use. It was modelled on that begun for the Spanish Infanta at St. James's, though, perhaps in view of possible developments, it was of a larger size than the original. The opening ceremonies were comparable in splendour to those of the foundation. Many Protestants were attracted thither by curiosity to admire its beautiful furnishings, among which perhaps was already to be seen the splendid specimen of the art of Rubens, which is known to have adorned the high altar in later days. Even the King came in to see the great attraction, a construction about forty feet high, which the ingenuity of a young Roman architect who happened to be in London had fashioned into a representation of Paradise, wherein, guarded by sculptured angels and prophets, and blazing with innumerable lights, reposed the Sacred Host. Taking into account these splendours, it is not perhaps surprising that those who on this happy day turned their eyes toward the kneeling figure of the royal foundress saw stealing down her cheeks the happy tears of an emotion she could not restrain. She had indeed cause for self-congratulation, for already the hopes which had cheered her in her dark days were beginning to be realized.

Henrietta never laid aside the devout habits which BÉrulle had taught her, and which—no doubt with much anxiety in his mind—he again inculcated in 1627 in a pious letter which he wrote and to which the Queen-Mother put her name.[127] She was indeed sometimes inclined to lie in bed in the morning so late that Mass could not be said till midday, but her excellent husband, who desired her to be as precise in her religious duties as he was in his own, was not slow to chide gently this laxity, so that her regularity of attendance became the admiration of all. At each festival she received the Sacrament of Penance, and communicated with such devotion that her fervour astonished not only her fellow-worshippers, but her spiritual advisers. In matters of fasting she was very strict, only asking for a dispensation when there was real need, in spite of the specious advice of her heretic physician Mayerne, who urged her to take meat on Fridays and Saturdays, "an indulgence," as a Frenchman justly remarked, "which would be of little account in France, but in England, and in the person of the Queen, appearances must be kept up."[128]

To all these virtues she added a zeal for her faith which, if still checked by the girlish levity which easily turned from religious as from political matters, was sufficiently urgent both to champion her faith in Protestant circles and to plead for her oppressed co-religionists, so that with the growth of her influence over her husband grew their peace and prosperity. It is true that for a year or two after the expulsion of the French the persecution continued, and was, particularly in Scotland, at one time very fierce,[129] so that it was noted with malicious satisfaction that the Queen fell into her premature travail on the very day that her husband had signed a decree against the Catholics of his northern kingdom; but it so quickly and thoroughly abated that in 1633 a Roman correspondent in London was able to declare that never before had Catholics been less molested.[130] Not only were priests permitted to live undisturbed in the capital, but English Catholics were allowed to attend the chapels of the Queen and the ambassadors, a privilege which Richelieu had vainly endeavoured to win for them at the time of the royal marriage, and which the King had angrily refused to the Queen's entreaties only a year or two before. "I permit you your religion," he had said to her on that occasion, "with your Capuchins and others. I permit ambassadors and their retinue, but the rest of my subjects I will have them live that I profess and my father before me." The Catholics were so encouraged by the lenity now shown that in the course of this same year, on the occasion of Charles' coronation in Scotland, they presented to him a petition pleading for toleration and urging him to follow the example of his father-in-law, Henry the Great, who, by granting religious liberty, had won for himself the title of Pater PatriÆ et Pacis Restitutor.[131]

That the softening of Charles' heart was due to his wife is indisputable, though her unfortunate hostility to Portland prevented her from utilizing the influence of that statesman, who was a Catholic at heart.[132] "The Queen is not unmindful to press the Catholic cause with the King as often as opportunity permits," writes a Catholic reporter[133] as early as 1632. The mere turning over of the State papers of these years reveals ample evidence of her activity. A priest who had languished seven years in the Clink prison, Catholic prisoners at York, another priest who for five years had lain in Newgate, these are some of the recipients of her mercy, taken from the records of little more than a year. "A great Princess," wrote Du Perron of her in a letter which he dispatched to Rome in 1635, "by whom religion exists in this Kingdom, and who is the refuge of the poor Catholics, who, thanks to God and by the clemency of the King, whom this virtuous Princess has inclined in our favour, have enjoyed during the four years I have been here a greater liberty than has ever been seen since the change of religion, and which we hope will continually increase, provided that it please God to preserve the King and to favour the good designs of our Mistress."[134]

In London Catholicism became almost fashionable. The Queen's new chapel at Somerset House,[135] where an urbane sermon by the eloquent du Perron might sometimes be heard, was often visited by Protestants, of whom some, like the astrologer Lilly, were drawn by curiosity, while others came from more mixed motives. The Capuchin Fathers and their rivals the Oratorians received many visitors who came to discuss religious matters, not a few of whom were inclined by the engaging arguments of their hosts to abjure the heresy of their birth, so that little by little an imposing list of converts was compiled.[136] Sometimes the good Capuchins would open their monastery to the Protestant public, and, arranging it a little more ascetically[137] than usual, to impress the heretics, would thus help on the cause of the faith among those who flocked to see them as if, says Father Cyprien pathetically, they had been Indians, Malays, or savages. At the chapels of the ambassadors and at Somerset House English sermons were preached for the edification of the English Catholics and of the more interesting Protestant visitors. Dispensations from the action of the recusancy laws were given by the Crown in such numbers as to alarm the Puritans.[138] The recusants were relieved of part[139] of the financial burden which the law bound upon them, and, above all, it began to be whispered that the King, whose devotion to his wife was well known, was beginning to look with favour upon the Catholics. His objection to them had always been political rather than religious, and was based upon his suspicion of their loyalty and upon his dread of the deposing power claimed by the Pope. Henrietta's constant endeavour was to disabuse her husband's mind of this, perhaps not unreasonable, prejudice. She met with fair success, so that a Catholic writer felt able to describe Charles as a "Prince of most milde and sweet disposition," who suffered the partial execution of the recusancy laws rather from political and financial than from religious reasons, and whose "great ornaments of God and Nature doe in a manner foretell that one day he shall restore this country to its former happiness, and himself become the most glorious and most renowned Monarch that ever did governe among us."[140] There was, of course, only one way by which this happy consummation could be attained, and already some sanguine spirits were beginning to think of another and happier Pole reconciling England anew to the Holy See.

And there were other and perhaps more solid grounds for hopes in the changing character of the Anglican Church, which about this time was attracting great attention among a certain school of Catholics. The results of the Elizabethan settlement were becoming apparent, and the two great parties, known then as Protestant and Puritan, now as High Church and Low Church, were beginning to stand out clearly. Liberal-minded Catholics, some of them converts from the English Universities, were learning, what the narrower type of Seminarist refused to recognize, the wide gulf which yawned between an Anglican "Protestant" and a continental Sectary. Already in the days of James a French priest[141] of Ville-aux-clercs' train was surprised by the decorum of the liturgy at Westminster Abbey, and roundly abused as liars the English Catholics of the Continent who had drawn fancy pictures of Anglican services. The religious revival, with which the name of Laud is associated, emphasized every Catholic element yet remaining in the Church of England. It was barely a century since the schism. BÉrulle, living in London or at the Court, regarding all with unfriendly and prejudiced eyes, might be surprised at the total absence of all sign or memory of the old religion. But had a man of sympathy gone about among the people, or sought the lonely valleys of Yorkshire and the remote villages of Devon and Cornwall, he would have told another tale of lingering superstitions, of ancient customs which had their root in Catholic practices. Such a man as Bishop Andrewes, who died in old age in 1626, and who was the master of Laud, is a witness that the Church revival of the seventeenth century was no more a complete innovation than that of the nineteenth century, which is associated with the names of the Tractarians, to which, in many respects, it bears so close a resemblance. But under the patronage of the King and the Archbishop the movement developed rapidly. Altars were set up, decked in Catholic fashion, in most of the cathedrals and in many parish churches; Latin services were read at Oxford and Cambridge; books were published, such as Anthony Stafford's Female Glory, which might have been written by Catholic pens; a desire for a return to Catholic discipline, of which perhaps the most interesting manifestation was the Protestant nunnery at Little Gidding, was apparent in earnest Churchmen; and, above all, not only did a considerable number of conversions take place, but some of those who remained in the Anglican fold, like Bishop Goodman of Gloucester and Bishop Montague of Chichester, became enamoured of the haunting dream of corporate reunion. It is not surprising that Catholics and Puritans alike should have seen in the whole movement a tendency to a reversal of the Reformation settlement, and should equally have failed to distinguish between the staunch Anglicans, of whom Laud was the leader, and the advance-guard which really was looking to Rome. The Queen herself believed that Laud[142] was a good Catholic at heart, and there is no doubt that overtures were made to him by Catholics, while the more liberal-minded of that communion, recalling to the Pope the example of his great predecessor St. Gregory, who "did yeeld somewhat to the Britans before he could work their conversion," urged upon him the expediency of meeting half-way those erring children who already believed "the Pope of Rome to be cheefe and supreame Pastor," and of a little condescending "unto their weakness, whome unhappy errors have made infirme."[143]

Urban VIII, to whom this appeal was addressed, was one of those decorous ecclesiastics whom the counter-reformation had substituted for the more picturesque figures of Renaissance Rome. He had a kindness for Henrietta, whom he had seen when she was a baby and he was Nuncio in the French capital, on which occasion the Queen-Mother had replied to his courteous augury that the little Princess would one day be a great Queen in the prophetic words, "That will be when you are Pope." He felt a real interest in England, which he had shown in a somewhat equivocal way when, incited by BÉrulle, he had urged France and Spain in 1628 to unite in attacking the faithless King of England. Circumstances, however, were now changed, and he was anxious to commend himself to Charles and Henrietta. His nephew Francesco Barberini, the Cardinal Protector of England, who shared with him the considerable, if misdirected, artistic taste of the family,[144] was equally alive to the opportunities of the hour, and he showed the King of England from time to time such attentions as were most acceptable to a monarch who was not only the patron of Rubens and Van Dyck, but was himself one of the best judges of art in Europe. Barberini allowed a large number of statues and pictures to be exported from Rome to England, while he sent over as gifts choice pictures painted by Leonardo and Correggio and other masters of the Renaissance, together with a Bacchus by the hand of the still living Guido Reni, "understanding that His Majesty was a great admirer of such curiosities."[145] Finally, he induced the haughty Bernini to sculpture the busts of the King of England and of his Queen, in which task the great sculptor is said to have read a tragic fate in the long, melancholy lines of the countenance of Charles Stuart.

But the more serious results of the intercourse between Rome and England—results which had no small influence on future events—touched another side of Henrietta's dealings with the English Catholics.

The history of the Catholic Church in England, from the Reformation onwards, is a curious mixture of heroic endurance and of sordid squabbles among those who, in the face of a common enemy, should have shown above all an united front. The disputes which raged between the secular clergy and the religious Orders on the subject of Episcopal jurisdiction were at an acute stage when Henrietta came into England, and in the course of the next few years the feeling became so bitter on both sides that the seculars did not scruple to accuse the Jesuits, the protagonists of the regulars, of heinous crimes, such as the instigation of the Powder Plot,[146] while these latter, in their turn, are said to have taken their revenge by disseminating information important to the Government which led to the banishment of the Bishop of Chalcedon.[147]

It was only natural that each party should desire the favour of the young Queen. The Jesuits, who commanded the larger following among the English Catholics, were the more objectionable to the Government and the nation, who considered them meddlers in matters of State, and who remembered, with a vividness not decreased by the Powder Plot, the career and the writings of Father Robert Parsons. Charles' dislike of them[148] was inherited from his father, who on one occasion broke off a conversation most favourable to the Catholics to assert that never should a daughter-in-law of his be under Jesuit direction. Another person whose opinion was likely to weigh with Henrietta, Father BÉrulle, had so Protestant a hatred of the Society that in 1628 he used his powerful influence to prevent the dispatch to England of a Grand Almoner[149] who was believed to regard it with favour. The daughter of Henry IV must surely have felt an antipathy as strong as that of any Stuart for those whom many held responsible for her father's murder. In short, the secular clergy had some reason for hope, even setting aside the fact that the Jesuits were the soul of the pro-Spanish party which dominated English Catholicism, while they, under their pro-French Bishop, had a certain leaning to France, of which they were prepared to make the most now that a French Queen sat upon the throne of England.

It was a blow to these worthy men that they were not permitted to serve the Queen's chapel, for which office they possessed, certainly in their own eyes, every qualification.[150] It was a greater blow when, owing doubtless to the machinations of the Jesuits, the Bishop of Chalcedon was banished.[151] But, after all, this untoward event took place while the Queen's influence was still small. As it grew, and with it the general prosperity of the Catholics, the secular clergy took heart again.

Henrietta cared little or nothing for Bishop Smith personally, and his connection with Richelieu was by this time small recommendation to her. But it galled her pride that whereas there had been a Bishop in England on her arrival now there was none, and she probably believed, what even the cautious Du Perron on one occasion admitted, that the regulars were jealous of her as a Frenchwoman, and unwilling that she should have too great honour as a mother in Israel. It was whispered among the secular clergy that the Queen was "all for the Bishop and his jurisdiction" in spite of the efforts of the Jesuits to win over not only her, but Father Philip. Their hopes were not unfounded. Henrietta was so far roused as to write a strongly worded letter to the Pope on behalf of the Bishop, who was out of favour not only with the English Government, but with the authorities at Rome. She begged the Holy Father to restore "this good father to his children,"[152] and she entreated him, in words that are no obscure hit at the Jesuits and their friends the English Catholics, not to allow so good a prelate to be oppressed by those who regarded their own interest rather than the good of religion and the union of Catholics. To strengthen her appeal she dispatched a letter at the same time to her brother's ambassador in Rome, asking him[153] to use his influence in the matter. She knew that the Bishop was a persona grata at the French Court, where his elevation to the Cardinalate was at one time desired.

Henrietta's intervention effected nothing, and Richard Smith lived and died in an exile which was due at least as much to his fellow-Catholics as to his Protestant oppressors. But in the year following she was engaged in negotiations with the Papacy as fruitful as these had been abortive.

In 1633 a Scotch gentleman, by name Sir Robert Douglas,[154] appeared in Rome. He was a cousin of the Earl of Angus, a noted Scotch Catholic, and he was the bearer of letters from that nobleman to the Pope. But there were other and greater people responsible for his presence. Behind Angus stood the Queen of England, and behind the Queen stood her husband the King, though, as the emissary carefully explained, the latter could not openly appear in the affair, as he was not yet reconciled to the Catholic Church.

Douglas was one of those sanguine Catholics who believed Charles' conversion to be a matter of a short delay, and that then the whole nation, weary of heresy, would be only too glad to walk contentedly in the path to heaven in obedience to the Holy See. He drew a rosy picture of these prospects and of the Queen's virtues and piety as he proceeded to unfold the object of his mission, which was to induce the Pope to bestow a Cardinal's hat upon a subject of the King of England. He was even kind enough to spare the Holy Father the trouble of selection by indicating a certain George Con, a Scotch gentleman in the service of Barberini, as a worthy recipient of the honour. The nationality of this person, he hastened to point out, was all in his favour. Not only was the King's partiality for his own countrymen well known, but the English Catholics were so torn asunder by their internal feuds that they would welcome the elevation of a Scotchman which would not give rise to the jealousies which would inevitably attend the promotion of a member of either of the rival parties. Such at least was the view of the Scotch envoy. It would be interesting to hear the comments of the English Catholics, who a few years earlier had described their northern brethren as almost barbarians, unable to speak the English tongue, and in every way inferior to themselves.[155]

There is no doubt that Henrietta's heart was much set upon this project, nor did she ever relax her efforts in Con's behalf until his death. It is possible that she felt the danger, which Douglas pointed out to the Pope, of her position as an uncrowned Queen in case of her husband's death, and that she thought that a Cardinal devoted to her service would be a support in such a strait. It is improbable that at this time she had ever set eyes on her candidate, though she had heard accounts which were not unfounded of his goodness and learning, and she, as well as her husband, no doubt was aware that he had given a pleasing proof of judiciously mingled loyalty and piety by writing a sympathetic biography of Charles' grandmother, Mary of Scotland.[156] But beyond any personal feeling, Henrietta always believed, though why it is a little difficult to say, that the creation of a Cardinal who was a native of Great Britain would help forward in the highest degree the cause of the Catholic Church in England. Thus she wrote to Cardinal Barberini at this time and thus she wrote several years later to the Pope, expressing herself on the latter occasion very strongly and assuring the Holy Father that by complying with her wishes in the matter he would not only oblige her personally, but would give the greatest possible impetus to the cause of religion in England.[157]

The King's attitude is more difficult to determine, but there seems no reason to distrust Douglas' assertion that the project had his royal support and concurrence. Such intrigues were indeed only too congenial to his tortuous mind. Nor is the knight's statement without corroboration. Another Scot, the Earl of Stirling, who as Sir William Alexander had won a considerable reputation both as poet and statesman, and who had formerly been concerned in certain cryptic negotiations between James I and the Holy See, wrote to Rome[158] expressing his pleasure that the son was following in his father's footsteps, and urging Con's candidature on the ground that his elevation would be a matter of great satisfaction to the King.

It might be thought that the Roman authorities would welcome with empressement an emissary who came under such distinguished patronage. But, as a matter of fact, the reception accorded to Sir Robert Douglas was distinctly cool. The King of England's conduct had not been such as to inspire confidence, and the Jesuits in Rome and elsewhere were still busily representing him "as the greatest persecutor that ever was."[159] It was suggested that his friendly attitude to the Papacy was only a ruse to secure the restoration of the Palatinate to his sister's husband. Even the Queen was not regarded with great favour. It was believed in certain quarters that she was rather indifferent to Catholic interests, an impression which may have arisen partly from the favour which she showed to a Puritan clique, of which the Earl of Holland was the principal member,[160] and partly from her acquiescence in her husband's wish that their children should receive Anglican baptism.[161] Perhaps the Pope and Cardinal Barberini did not share this view, as they had read with great interest an account of the laying of the foundation-stone of the new chapel at Somerset House, which the judicious Du Perron had written to a compatriot in Rome, who with equal tact passed it on to the Holy Father.[162]

But there is no doubt that the Queen's insistent requests for the creation of a Cardinal did her no service, either now or later, with Urban VIII and his nephews. Many surmises were rife in Rome as to Douglas and his mission. He might be an agent of the secular clergy. The whole thing might be a deep-laid plan of Richelieu to secure the Cardinalate for his creature the Bishop of Chalcedon, who was certainly an English subject, and on whose behalf the Queen of England had written only a year earlier. There seems to have been no intention of granting Henrietta's request, and the kind letters which the Pope wrote to her and to Father Philip, saying how pleased he was to hear of their piety and virtue, were more lavish of compliments than of promises.

Nevertheless Douglas' mission was not unsuccessful. The Pope talked over English affairs with him freely, and the result was that in the spring of 1634 Gregorio Panzani set out for England.

Panzani was a priest of the Italian Oratory, and his ostensible mission in England was to heal the long-standing feud between the secular clergy and the religious Orders, and to remedy certain irregularities of morals and discipline which specially affected the younger religious and the London clergy who were unable to resist the seductions of heretical society. It is probable that the Pope and Cardinal Barberini desired these ends. It is certain that they saw in the state of affairs a convenient cloak to cover different and more important designs.

For Panzani was not in London without the connivance of the King and the express desire of the Queen, who had arranged the matter with her husband. "I have no objection," said Charles, "as long as things are done quietly and matters of State are not meddled with; but I do not wish it said that the Pope has sent an agent to the King of England."[163]

This was said, of course, and perhaps not altogether to the dissatisfaction of Panzani and those who sent him. Nevertheless he behaved with great discretion, and was liked by everybody, except the Jesuits, to whose pretensions he was greatly opposed, and whose ill opinion was an advantage to him rather than otherwise in dealing with the King and the people. On the advice of the sage Father Philip he refused to express any opinion on the thorny question of the lawfulness of taking the oath of allegiance[164] to the King, thus following the example of the Capuchin Fathers, who were wont to tell inquirers that they knew nothing of the matter, and that it would be well to seek other advisers; altogether so judicious was his conduct that he was described as "a person greatly to be esteemed for his many vertues and religious life and great zeale and industry for the advancem^t of the Catholick cause in this Country."[165] He was able, towards the end of his stay, to do the Catholics a notable service by persuading the King to dismiss the pursuivants, the most odious instruments of the recusancy laws, comparable to the familiars of the Spanish Inquisition, and to leave the prosecution of recusants in the hands of the justices of the peace.

About this time the hopes of the Catholics were rising high, both at home and in the Eternal City. They believed, with touching simplicity, that the wise policy of the King had almost destroyed the hated sect of the Puritans, "which formerly was stronger."[166] The centenary of the schism was not allowed to pass without meaning allusions. From the pulpit of the Queen's chapel at Somerset House, Du Perron commented on the occasion with even more than his wonted suavity. Continual accounts were sent to Rome of the mildness of the King, of the changing character of the Church of England, and, above all, of the piety and zeal of the Queen. She was described as "a Princess on whom God and nature have bestowed most rare gifts," whose "sweete and vertuous carriage, her religious zeale and constant devotions have purchased unto herselfe love and admiration from all the Court and Kingdome, and unto the Catholique Religion (which she piously pfesseth) great respect and honor. She is," added the writer in a glow of enthusiasm, "Una beata de Casa, for whose sake Heaven, I hope, doth intend many blessings towards our Country."[167] Cardinal Barberini rewarded these shining qualities by writing flattering letters to Henrietta, and by sending to her some relics of an obscure Roman lady named Martina, whose martyred body had recently been dug up in an ancient church dedicated to her memory.

Nor were Panzani's accounts less satisfactory; the King received him with great kindness, and openly expressed his regret for the schism between the Churches. "I would rather have lost my hand than it had happened," he said on one occasion. He showed an unexpected reverence for relics, and much interest in a remarkable book[168] written by a liberal-minded Catholic, Father Santa Clara, of the Order of S. Francis, which foreshadowed the famous "Tract 90" of later days. "The book pleases the King and some of the nobles of this Kingdom very much,"[169] wrote the envoy, and he begged on this ground that it might not be condemned at Rome, where (as well as in certain Catholic circles in England) its liberality had given offence. Nor were others more backward than the King. These were the days of the hopes of reunion, at which Santa Clara's book had not obscurely glanced; the days in which the appeal to the Pope, described above, was drawn up. Panzani was less sanguine than some of the English Catholics, and, in particular, seems to have appreciated Laud's real attitude towards the Church of Rome.[170] But he had much to tell of interesting conversations on religious subjects with Windbank, who assured him that the Jesuits and the Puritans were the only real obstacle in the path of unity, and with Anglican clergy of advanced views such as Bishop Montagu, who appeared a little surprised that the Roman ecclesiastic did not agree very warmly to his assertion that there could be no doubt of the validity of his Orders.

And the Holy See was to have another proof of Henrietta's zeal and of her husband's compliance. It was not enough that an agent of the Pope should dwell in London; an agent of the Queen of England was to go to Rome, and in dispatching him she was to realize a long-cherished wish.

The first person selected for this delicate post was a gentleman named Brett, who died on his journey to Italy. He was succeeded by a Scotchman, Sir William Hamilton, brother of the Earl of Abercorn, who arrived in Rome in the early summer of 1636. The Queen had given him a letter of introduction to Barberini, which ensured him a good reception at the Papal Court, thus described in a private letter:—

"Last Monday Sir William Hamilton had his first audience of his Holiness who receaved him with very greate signes of joy, he is exceeding well liked of here by all and indeed I think he will give as good satisfaction as any that could have been sent from England. Cardl. Barberini hath presented him with tow very faire horses for his coache. He keeps correspondence with the Secretarye of State Winebanck ... and useth F. Jhon the Benedictine his meanes to conveye these letters, but this must be kept secrett to yourself only."[171]

It appears that the Queen was obliged to exercise a good deal of pressure before her husband would consent to the establishment of this agency. Blind as Charles was to the dangers surrounding him on all sides, he may well have been aware of some of the difficulties attendant on a course of action which led to such communication between an English Secretary of State and an agent accredited to the Court of Rome.

The success which attended these first bold attempts to establish relations between the Holy See and the Court of England encouraged further efforts. It was felt that Panzani, after all, had obvious disadvantages for the post which, nevertheless, he had filled with such promising results. He was an Italian, and foreigners were not liked in the British Isles. He could talk no English, and this was a drawback to one whose work was, in a sense, missionary. He had done his part in spying out the land. He must now yield his place to a successor, who, not handicapped by race and language, would be able to reap the fields already ripe to harvest.

That successor was none other than the candidate of the King and the Queen for the Cardinalate, George Con, the Scot, Canon of S. John Lateran in Rome, who arrived in England in the early part of 1636.

In a sense, no better appointment could have been made. The new envoy was a singularly fascinating person, whose long residence in the country which was still the intellectual and artistic centre of Europe had added an urbane culture to the prudence and moderation which were the gifts of his Scottish birth. Less opposed to the Jesuits than Panzani, he was better able to deal with the pro-Spanish English Catholics, who still had a lurking distrust of the Queen, while he was too wise to be drawn into their schemes. A scholar and a courtier, he knew how to commend himself to the Protestants of the Court, and, above all, to the King, who evinced a real liking for him. "I hope," said the envoy to him upon one occasion, "that my being a good servant to the Pope and to Cardinal Barberini will not prejudice me with your Majesty." Charles quickly gave him his hand, and said earnestly, "No, Giorgio, no, always be assured of this."[172] The Queen's feeling to him was even warmer. Indeed, it may be said that George Con took his place among the little group of her personal friends. His Scotch birth was no less a recommendation to her than to Charles himself, for she so well remembered the ancient tie between her own land and the northern kingdom that she was wont to show an injudicious partiality, which did not tend to her popularity in England, for those who came from beyond the Tweed. She was prejudiced in his favour before his arrival, and she found him even more pious and charming than she had anticipated, so that both she and the King gradually received him to such intimacy and confidence that he seemed almost like one of the royal household.

It is not surprising that, under the spell of this fascinating personality, Henrietta's Catholic zeal should have attained to a fervour unknown before, which annoyed and alarmed even her own Protestant servants, such as Sir Theodore Mayerne, who expressed his views on the matter to Con himself. The envoy, indeed, had come at a fortunate moment. Already Portland was dead, and the Queen was beginning to tread the path of influence and intrigue. She found in him not only a friend who warmly encouraged her efforts, but an efficient helper in her schemes, for what had become, in her own words, her "strongest passion, the advancement of the Catholic religion in this country."[173] Moreover, he showed himself a true friend by attempting to correct the opinion which was rife in Rome as well as in France, that the quiet enjoyed by the Catholics was due rather to political reasons than to her influence.[174] Perhaps he had some success; certainly prayers were offered for her in Rome, and a beautiful golden heart studded with gems, which she sent by the hands of one of her Capuchin Fathers to the Holy House of Loretto, was looked upon in papal circles "as the pledge of the greatness of the devout and pious heart"[175] that was doing so much for the Catholics of England.

Con's dispatches are written in much the same strain as those of Panzani. They tell of kindness, of religious sympathy, of even greater royal favour, of the King's evident sympathy with Catholicism—how on one occasion he said, "I, too, am a Catholic," how on another his talk with the Queen on religious subjects was such that it would hardly be credited at Rome; of the success which attended the distribution among the ladies of the Court of the pretty religious trifles such as rosaries and pictures, which the care of Cardinal Barberini had sent over; of the Queen's delight in a cross sent to her by the Pope—how she always wore it, and how she said that it was the most precious thing she possessed; of the favour shown to Father Sancta Clara at Court, and by Windbank—how it had even been proposed that he should preach a sermon in the Queen's chapel about the anniversary of the Powder Plot, "to exculpate the Catholics from treason against Princes"; how even the Jesuits acknowledged that never since the days of the negotiation for the Spanish match had the Catholics enjoyed such peace. Nevertheless, Con was too sagacious not to be able to read in some measure the signs of the times. "God only knows how long this calm will last," he wrote.[176]

It was unfortunate that a person who seemed so admirably fitted for his post should have been obliged to relinquish his task half done. But the rigours of the northern climate told so severely on a constitution long accustomed to the suns of Italy that in 1639 Con was obliged to think of turning his steps southward, for not even the distinguished attentions he received in his sickness from the King, the Queen, and the nobility availed to cure him. He reached Rome, but he only recrossed the Alps to die before he could place on his head the Cardinal's hat, which had been so much striven for. On his death-bed he thought of Henrietta, and begged Cardinal Barberini, who was by his side, to send her a little picture of the Virgin as a recognition of his gratitude for her kindness, and as a memorial of their friendship.

But already the shadows of the Civil War were beginning to close about the Queen. The bright hopes which had marked the days of Con's sojourn in England were becoming haunting fears, which, in their turn, were to give place to feelings as like despair as such natures as Henrietta's can know.

It was probably a sad surprise to the Queen when, on the eve of the war, she discovered the intensity of the hatred with which her faith was regarded by a large section of her husband's subjects. Sagacious foreigners knew something of it. "The Puritans hate the Catholics as much as the Devil,"[177] wrote TilliÈres frankly as early as 1624. But in the Queen's Court all mention of such ill-bred persons and factions was avoided, unless some wit cracked a joke at their expense. It is true that a few of the great nobles were Puritans, but during the years of Charles' triumph their opinions were expressed with moderation, and most of the courtiers appeared rather inclined to the fashionable Protestant variety of faith which the King, the Ministers, and the higher clergy professed. The real strength of Puritanism was in the lower middle-class, a section of the community with which the Queen was not likely to come in personal contact, and which, partly perhaps for this very reason, she was never able to conquer. Her refusal to be crowned with her husband gave bitter offence, and was to cost her dear in the future. Discontented spirits muttered to themselves that the King might be murdered as Henry IV had been, "and then the Queen might mar all."[178] When in 1629 prayers were offered in the Church for the birth of an heir to the throne, scarcely a man could be found to answer Amen; and even after the birth of a Prince there were mutterings that God had already provided for the nation in the hopeful issue of the Queen of Bohemia. Ill-bred Puritan ministers, in the outspoken theological language of the day, prayed for the conversion of the Popish Queen; and as the Catholic revival developed, to dislike and disapproval was added the more potent force of fear.

The language of the Grand Remonstrance and of many other contemporary documents leaves no doubt that there was a widespread belief in the existence of a plot managed by the "engineers and factors of Rome," of whom the Queen was one of the chief,[179] to capture the country and the Church of England. The signs in the national establishment which raised the hopes of the Catholics became a terror to the Puritans. It was no wonder. As Du Perron said from the other point of view, it was but a century since the schism, and the Anglican Church had not yet the stability which comes from time, so that the idea of its reconciliation to Rome was less chimerical than in later times. Nor had the attempts to make Protestantism co-extensive with the nation been altogether successful. It is probable that Richelieu overrated the importance of the English Catholics, but, nevertheless, the trouble he took to conciliate them bears witness to the light in which they were regarded in the best-informed circles on the Continent. Not a few of them were men of position and wealth, and their number was certainly considerable; it probably reached at least 150,000,[180] or three in every hundred,[181] and one Catholic reporter says that in Lancashire and Yorkshire as many as a third of the population adhered to the old faith.[182] The Archbishop of Embrun, who was in England in the latter days of James, is said to have confirmed in London as many as 10,000 persons. Another witness,[183] who had some opportunities for forming a judgment, believed that a third of the nation was either openly or secretly Catholic, and that another third, the Protestant part of the Church of England, only remained in schism from fear of the recusancy laws, and though this estimate is of course grossly exaggerated, it is significant as showing the opinions which were prevalent. The loudly expressed hopes of the Catholics reacted upon the fears of the Puritans, who saw in them not only the proof of the power of their open foes, but a confirmation of their worst suspicions regarding their more secret enemies in the Church of England. Laud, the most loyal of Anglican Churchmen, did not recognize his mistake until it was too late. Charles, who was always a good Protestant, or in modern parlance a High Churchman, perhaps never recognized his even when it led him to the scaffold.

The recklessness with which the King gave colour to the suspicions of the Puritans is indeed remarkable. The husband of a Catholic Queen, the son of a lady whose Protestantism was far from unimpeachable, he had recognized in early life the necessity of caution; he had no belief in the claims of the Church of Rome, and probably felt its attraction less strongly than his father, whose grandiose imagination was struck by its great claims and long history. Yet he showed marked favour to Roman ecclesiastics such as Du Perron, he allowed the triumphant ceremonies of Somerset House, and he sanctioned the almost open exercise of Catholic worship, only from time to time showing a feeble concession to the feeling of the country by such measures as forbidding the English Catholics to frequent the chapels of the ambassadors, and by issuing a proclamation which at the Queen's prayers he deprived of most of its force. There is, of course, only one sufficient explanation of his conduct. He was, it is true, like others of his family, a believer in a certain kind of toleration. He thought it a base thing for a man to change his religion, and he considered that any Christian might be saved. He was also, except when actuated by feelings of revenge, a merciful man to whom persecution was distasteful, and there were probably moods in which he imagined himself a second Henry IV, under whose paternal sway the rival religions could live at peace; but the real reason of his tenderness to the Catholics was his love for his wife. As in the old days Buckingham could make him do anything, so in later times could Henrietta Maria. Her tears, her smiles, her caresses won boon after boon for her co-religionists, until she wrung from him the last, the most disastrous concession of all. No single act was more fatal to his throne or more prejudicial to the ultimate interests of the Catholics than the establishment of the agency which brought into England Panzani, Con, and later Rosetti; as these worthy men rolled about London in their fine carriages, secure in the royal favour, and none daring to make them afraid, they believed that they were helping forward the conversion of England. In reality, they were riveting for more than a century longer the chains of the English Catholics.

As for Henrietta herself, she was unfortunate in religious as in other matters. It is hardly too much to say that she pulled down her husband's throne to help her co-religionists, and yet in the light of future events it must be gravely questioned whether the progress of Catholicism under her protection was not too dearly bought by the terror and hatred which it inspired in the English mind, and whether in the end the Church was advanced by her coming into England. On the other hand, she had just sufficient moderation (which showed itself particularly in her recognition of the impossibility of bringing up her children in her own faith) to render her slightly suspect to the more fanatical Catholics in Rome and elsewhere. When the hour of need came the English Catholics, recalling her benefits and dreading above all things the domination of the Puritans, did indeed for the most part rally loyally round her; but on the Continent it was chiefly remembered that she was the devoted wife of a heretic King, whose qualified mercy so prized at home seemed abroad but a mockery of the hopes of the royal marriage.[184]

[104]Continuation of Weekly Newes, No. 43, 1624. [105]The following extract from J. Evelyn's State of France (1652) shows the opinion which cultivated Protestants held of French Catholics:—

"The Roman Catholicks of France are nothing so precise, secret and bigotish as are either the Recusants of England, Spain and Italy, but are for the most part an indifferent sort of Christian, naturally not so superstitious and devout, nor in such Vassallage to his Holinesse as in other parts of Europe where the same opinions are professed: which indifferency, whether I may approve of or condemn, I need not declare here." [106]See Avenel: Lettres de Richelieu, passim. The importance of winning over the English Catholics is dwelt upon in the instructions given to ambassadors; see also the memorial on the state of England drawn up by Fontenay-Mareuil, in 1634, which dwells upon the pro-Spanish tendencies of the English Catholics and the means of overcoming them: those English Catholics who desired benefits from France were wont to consider, "that whereas the Catholics of England have been traduced to be all of the Spanish faction, that is a mere calumny."—Archives of the See of Westminster. [107]The original of this letter is preserved among the Archives of the See of Westminster. [108]During the singing of the hymns and psalms he knelt down, and during the prayers he said his rosary: "Cela Édifia fort les Catholiques Anglais qui ne manquoient pas d'Épier les actions des ministres de France, pour les rapporter aux Espagnols avec lesquels ils Étoient fort unis."—MÉmoires de Brienne (Ville-aux-clercs), Petitot (1824), p. 391. [109]Bib. Nat., MS. Dupuy, 144. [110]Bib. Ste GeneviÈve, Paris, MS. 820. TilliÈres to Puisieux, January 9th, 1624. [111]He seems to have been much liked by the English Catholics; he is said to have held a special commission to advance their interests. P.R.O. Roman Transcripts. [112]Arch. Nat., M. 232. [113]Aff. Etran. Ang., t. 44. This document goes on to say that the request of the Parliament for the execution of the recusancy laws was founded "sur la crainte des Espagnols desquels les Catholiques sont tenus pour fauteurs et pensionnaires," and also in the fear that the liberty promised at the time of the marriage would enable the Catholics "de faire quelque entreprise contre le bien de l'Estat." Dod, in his Church History, gives the names of only two priests who suffered the death penalty during the years of Charles' power. [114]See the letters which, just before her marriage, she wrote to her brother the King of France and to the Pope on this subject. Green: Letters of Queen Henrietta Maria, pp. 8, 9. [115]P.R.O. Roman Transcripts. [116]Charles wished Father Philip to be consecrated Bishop, but this suggestion did not meet with the approval of the French Government. Aff. Etran. Ang., t. 43. [117]P.R.O. French Transcripts. [118]"Je ne dis rien de l'assiduite de ces pÈres a ouir les confessions depuis six heures du matin iusques a midi et demy, l'assistance qu'ils rendoyent aux malades et aux prisonniers. . . ."—Henrietta Maria to Card. Barberini, 1658. P.R.O. Roman Transcripts. [119]A translation of these memoirs is published at the end of the Court and Times of Charles I; they are inaccurate in detail, and though amusing reading, do not give a high opinion of the intellect of the writer. [120]Panzani: P.R.O. Roman Transcripts. [121]Salvetti: Add. MS., 27,962, I, f. 263. [122] Aff. Etran. Ang., t. 47. [123]A chapel had been built at St. James's at an earlier date; the "new chapel at St. James's" is mentioned in 1630. [124]"Les royales ceremonies faites en l'edification d'une chapelle de Capucins a Londres en Angleterre dans le Palais de la Roine; faite par son commandement et par la permission du Roy; en laquelle chapelle elle a posÉ la premiere pierre."—Paris, 1632. [125]"Si cette genereuse Princesse, soeur du plus juste et du plus vaillant de tous les roys . . . s'est ainsi acquise ceste libertÉ de conscience chez elle, pensez-vous qu'elle en demeure la? et qu'elle ne l'acquiere pas bien tost en faveur de tous les Catholiques qui sont en Angleterre."—Ibid. [126]The French were inclined from experience in their own land to believe that Protestants and Catholics could live peaceably together. See Remonstrance au roy d'Angleterre sur la miserable condition des Catholiques ses subjects en comparaison du favorable traictement que Huguenots recoivent en France. MDCXXVIII. [127]Arch. Nat., M. 232. The letter is endorsed "coppie d'une lettre dressÉe par le R. P. GÉnÉral pour la Reyne MÈre À la Reyne d'Angleterre." [128]Aff. Etran. Ang., t. 44. [129]The Queen's attempts to soften her husband's heart towards the Scotch Catholics are mentioned in Memoirs of Scottish Catholics during Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries, by W. Forbes Leith, S.J. [130]P.R.O. Roman Transcripts. [131]The French translation of this petition is entitled: "Remonstrance et Declaration des Catholiques Anglais faites au roi d'Angleterre À son Couronnement du royaume d'Escosse."

"Pour obtenir de sa MajestÉ la LibertÉ de la Religion Catholique dans l'estendue de ses royaumes" (1633). [132]TilliÈres (see his MÉmoires) believed that the Queen, during the years of Weston's power, could have obtained much more liberty for the Catholics than she did had she been willing to work with him: he dwells, as do Salvetti (Add. MS., 27,962) and Fontenay-Mareuil (MÉmoires), upon the favour she showed to Puritans; the latter says that the peace of the Catholics came from their insignificance between the nearly equal parties of the Protestants and the Puritans, but his personal hostility to Henrietta may have made him unwilling to give her the credit which in this matter she certainly deserved. [133]Archives of See of Westminster: Summarium de rebus religionis in Anglia, 1632. [134]P.R.O. Roman Transcripts. As early as 1629 a letter from London speaks of the confidence of the Catholics in the protection of the Queen—"gia piu volte isperimentata" (ibid). [135]"Elle [Henrietta Maria] edifia ce Temple magnifique dans son Palais de Somerset ou les PÈres Capucins qu'elle y logea chanterent en toute libertÉ les louanges de Dieu. La s'assembloient comme dans le Temple de Jerusalem, tous les fidÈles d'Angleterre: lÀ JÉsus-Christ Étoit offert À Dieu son pÈre dans le trÈs auguste Sacrifice: la se prÉschoient hautement les veritez Catholiques: lÀ les SacrÉmens s'administroient: lÀ se vendroient À la porte les livres saints: lÀ tous les jours le pavÉ s'Étoit baigne de larmes de joye et de douleur des justes et pÉcheurs penitents: lÀ les enfans venoient adorer le Dieu de leurs PÈres: lÀ s'abjuroit publiquement le schisme et le heresie: lÀ le Pape Étoit honore comme le Vicaire de JÉsus-Christ: lÀ les Images, les Huiles saintes, les priÈres pour les Morts estoient en usage et en respect: la en un mot l'Arche Vivante renversoit Dagon sur terre: lÀ elle exercoit ses jugements sur les Philistines: lÀ elle triomphoit des faux Dieux de Samarie."—FranÇois Faure, Oraison FunÈbre de Henriette Marie de France, Reyne de la Grande Bretagne (1670). [136]Henrietta Maria speaks of nine hundred persons converted by the Capuchins, besides some ministers. P.R.O. Roman Transcripts. Henrietta Maria to Cardinal Barberini, 1658. Du Perron says that every year between two and three hundred persons were converted by means of the Capuchins and the Oratorians, and that besides a large number were converted by English priests working under the protection of the toleration. [137]See Memoirs of PÈre Cyprien de Gamache. [138]Prynne, Popish Royal Favourite. [139]The King contented himself with taking one-third instead of two-thirds of the property of recusants. [140]Archives of See of Westminster. [141]Bishop Hacket: Memoirs of the Life of Archbishop Williams (1715), p. 87. [142]Madame de Motteville, in the account of the troubles of England, which she heard from Henrietta Maria, says, "l'ArchevÊque de Cantorberi qui dans son coeur Étant trÈs bon Catholique...."—MÉmoires de Mme. de Motteville (1783), t. 1, p. 242.

Heylin, who knew a good deal of Laud's mind, says: "I hold it probable enough that the better to oblige the Queen unto him (of whose prevailing in the King's affections he [Laud] could not be ignorant), he might consent to Con's coming hither over from the Pope."—Cyprianus Anglicanus, IV, p. 411. [143]Archives of See of Westminster. [144]Quod non fecerunt barbari, fecerunt Barberini. [145]Panzani: Memoirs, ed. Berington (1793), p. 191. [146]Archives of See of Westminster. [147]This statement rests on the authority of Panzani, who had a considerable prejudice against the Jesuits. [148]PÈre Suffren, the confessor of Mary de' Medici, seems to have been the only Jesuit whom he ever regarded with favour. [149]Jean Jaubert de Barrault, Bishop of Bazas. [150]"Les religieux et particulierement les Jesuites sont estimes en Angleterre broullons, aux affaires destat et les Prestres seculiers n'ont iammais estÉs soubsonÉs de ceste faulte."—Archives of See of Westminster. [151]The Proclamation against the Bishop dates from 1628, but it seems only to have been intended to frighten him; he did not leave England until 1631. [152]P.R.O. Roman Transcripts. [153]Archives of See of Westminster. Bishop Smith had compromised his position at Rome by expressing himself willing to resign his See and afterwards refusing to do so. [154]The details of Douglas' mission are to be found in papers among the Roman Transcripts P.R.O. [155]Archives of See of Westminster. This unfavourable description occurs in a curious paper, drawn up in 1625, headed: "Que les ecclesiastiques qui seront aupres de la Royne d'Angleterre doivent etre natives d'Angleterre mesme." A later section of the same paper is headed: "Que les ecclesiastiques qui seront aupres de la Royne d'Angleterre doivent plustost estre Prestres seculiers que Religieux." See note 1 on p. 113, which contains an extract from the same paper. [156]Vita MariÆ StuartÆ ScotiÆ ReginÆ DotariÆ GalliÆ, AngliÆ et Hibernis Heredis, scriptore Georgia ConÆo. MDCXXIV. [157]P.R.O. Roman Transcripts. Henrietta Maria to Urban VIII, 163-8/9. [158]P.R.O. Roman Transcripts. [159]Archives of See of Westminster. [160]See chapter III. [161]She never made any great effort to bring up her children as Catholics. She took Prince Charles to Mass sometimes, but desisted at her husband's request. In the marriage contract all that was said about the religion of the children of the marriage was, that they were to have free exercise of the Catholic religion, but it was provided that they were to be brought up by their mother until they reached the age of thirteen years. [162]Bib. Nat., Paris, MS. Cinq Cents de Colbert, 356. Greffier to Du Perron, December 9th, 1632. [163]P.R.O. Roman Transcripts. [164]There were two oaths which troubled the Catholics, that of supremacy and that of allegiance; the first declared the King "supremo Capo della Chiesa Anglicana," the second was aimed at the deposing power of the Pope, and was drawn up in 1606. A good many Catholics, particularly the Benedictines, believed that the second, or oath of allegiance, could lawfully be taken by Catholics (who suffered commercially from their refusal) notwithstanding its condemnation by Paul V. Panzani's Relazione, Add. MS., 15,389. [165]Archives of See of Westminster. [166]Ibid. [167]Ibid. [168]Deus, Natura, Gratia (1635). The real name of the author was Christopher Davenport; he died in 1680. [169]Archives of See of Westminster. [170]"Il Laboru sacerdote secolare m'ha detto che pochi giorni sono il Cantuarieuse diose alia Duchessa di Buchingam che presto questo Regno sarÀ reconciliata alia Chiesa Romana. Io non volevo credere questo ma detto Laboru me l'ha giurato. Io manco lo credo e se l'ha detto havrÀ burlato."—Panzani to Barberini, April 9th, 1636. Add. MS., 15,389. [171]Archives of See of Westminster. Letter of Peter Fitton, agent of English secular clergy in Rome, July, 1636. [172]Add. MS., 15,389. [173]P.R.O. Roman Transcripts. Henrietta Maria to Cardinal Barberini, October, 1637. [174]"Da questo e da altri motivi puotiamo vedere che la quiete che godiamo per la gratia di Dio non e per ragione del Stato come alcuni politici a Roma discorrono, perche tal quiete non e giudicata a proposito da questi ministri di Stato ma piu presto il contrario accio che tanto piu apparisca il zelo constante della Regina alla quale sola in terra si deve tutto."—June, 1639. Add. MS., 15,392, f. 64. [175]P.R.O. Roman Transcripts. In 1629 she had accepted the dedication of the English translation of Richeome's Pilgrime of Loretto. [176]Add. MS., 15,389. [177]MS. FranÇais, 23,597. [178]Rous: Diary, Camden Soc. (1856), p. 12. [179]Cf. Prynne: Popish Royal Favourite (1643). "By all these our whole 3 Kingdomes ... must of necessity now see and acknowledge that there is and hath bin all his Majesties Reigne till this instant a most strong cunning desperate confederacie prosecuted (wherein the Queens Majestie hath been chiefe) to set up Popery in perfection and extirpate the Protestant party and religion in all his Majesties dominions" (p. 35). [180]150,000 is the number given by a Catholic reporter in 1635 (Westminster Archives), and Panzani gives the same number. Add. MS., 15,389. [181]The population of England and Wales was probably about 5,000,000. [182]Archives of See of Westminster. [183]Du Perron: Proces Verbal de l'assemblÉe du clerge, 1645. [184]It can hardly be doubted that when the marriage dispensation was given it was hoped that Charles' successor would be a Catholic. The English Catholics resident abroad shared to some extent the continental opinion of the King and Queen of England.