THE TURNING-POINT
WE come now, in the course of her story, to the most momentous epoch in
the life of Anne Hyde, the period, namely, of her conversion to the
Church of Rome. And here it must be noted that she was in no respect
ignorant, nor uninstructed in the dogmas of her own Communion. It has
been shown that in her early youth she was placed by her father under
the teaching of Morley, during the time when he lived, an honoured
guest, in Hyde’s household in the days of exile at Breda.[240]
Footnote 240:
Burnet’s “History of His Own Time,” ed. 1766. “She was bred to great
strictness in religion.”
He, as we know, had been in other days a friend of such great and noble
souls as Hammond and Sanderson, Chillingworth and Falkland. He had
ministered to Charles I. in his captivity at Newmarket, and had stood on
the scaffold with Capel. At The Hague he became an honorary chaplain to
the Queen of Bohemia, who knew merit when she saw it.
From the time when Morley assumed the spiritual directorship of the
twelve-year-old daughter of his protector Hyde, he taught her to use
regular confession, which she seems to have done unswervingly, and her
confidence in him may be gauged from the fact that as soon as her
position as Duchess of York was firmly established, she chose him to
continue her guide “in those things that concerned her spiritual and
everlasting condition.” It has been already noticed that at one time
Morley had been suspected of Calvinism, on which account he was disliked
by Laud; and the story is told of him, that when asked what Arminians
held, he answered with some acerbity that they held but bishoprics and
deaneries. But his later close friendship with the saintly Ken seems to
establish his orthodoxy, and we find him preaching against
Presbyterianism.[241] He, for his part, describes his pupil Anne as
being “as devout and charitable as ever I knew any of her age and sex.”
After her marriage she carefully kept the canonical hours of the “Public
Service of God in her Chapel with those of her family.” Besides this,
she was a regular and devout communicant. “And always,” says the
bishop,[242] “the day before she received she made a voluntary
confession of what she thought she had offended God in, either by
omission or by commission, professing her sorrow for it, and promising
amendment of it, and kneeling down she desired and received absolution
in the form and words prescribed by our Church. This for her devotion.
And as for Charity, she did every time she received the Sacrament,
besides five pounds in gold she gave at the altar, she gave me twenty
pounds to give to such as I thought had most need of it, and did best
deserve it. This was her ordinary and constant way of expressing her
charity. But that which she did at other Times and upon extraordinary
Occasions I believe was very much more, especially in the Time of the
Great Plague. To conclude I remember she told the late Archbishop of
Canterbury (Sheldon) and me when we were both together with her that if
she did not so much in point of Charity as it was fit for her to do, it
should be his fault and mine, and not hers.”[243]
Footnote 241:
Izaak Walton was also much with him, probably owing to his connection
with Ken.
Footnote 242:
“Register and Chronicle,” by Kennet, Bishop of Peterborough. (Morley.)
Footnote 243:
Burnet was very bitter against Sheldon, who he declared “seemed to
have no great sense of religion” (“History of His Own Times”). “He
{Sheldon} belonged to the school of Andrewes and Laud, and at one time
was almost the sole support of Jeremy Taylor. He, by the way,
fearlessly remained at Lambeth throughout the Plague” (_Dictionary of
National Biography_).
It is strange and perplexing to read this obviously honest testimony
side by side with the dismal tales of light conduct, of avarice, of
gluttony, of reckless gambling, which were freely told; and it is
impossible to refrain from, at least, trying to discount some of these
scandals, knowing as we do the age and state of society which gave birth
to them. It may be objected that the King, whose way of life was so
unhappily notorious, steadily communicated, himself, in the Chapel Royal
on the great festivals; but from the account just quoted, it seems
evident that Duchess Anne’s reception of the Divine Mysteries was no
perfunctory act. For the rest, impossible as it is to reconcile apparent
contradictions, one can only fall back on the truism of the
contradictions of poor human nature itself.
With regard to the change of faith presently to be traced, as late as
1667, at the time therefore of her father’s banishment, Bishop Morley
persists in describing Anne as still “a zealous Protestant,” “and
zealous to make Protestants,” though this assertion may be coloured by
the writer’s prepossessions. Her relations with Morley and also with
Sheldon brought her into contact with the mysterious adventurer
Ferdinand de Macedo.[244] Sir John Bramston, Clarendon’s old friend, had
been accused by this person, prompted by Henry Mildmay, Bramston’s
political enemy, of having changed his religion. Macedo himself (a
Portuguese), who had declared himself a convert from the Roman Church,
was recommended to the Duchess as an object of charity. She forthwith
allowed him a yearly pension of thirty pounds, and spoke for him to her
two advisers, who, in their turn, each made him an allowance of ten
pounds, the Bishop of Winchester, moreover, placing him at Christ Church
and even advancing a further sum of thirty pounds to buy necessaries.
However, the man for whom so much was done was found to be utterly
unworthy, for he drank and gambled, and even had a discreditable brawl
with a Frenchman whom he threw downstairs. The Dean of Christ Church and
Canon Lockey, at the end of their patience, very naturally appealed to
Morley to remove him, as a cause of grave scandal. The latter, as well
as Sheldon, promptly withdrew the allowance aforesaid, but out of good
nature said little or nothing of the matter to the Duchess, who,
however, hearing something of it from others, questioned the bishop
closely, and being satisfied that her bounty was misapplied, took it
away. Macedo, who probably traded on the fact that he was a Portuguese,
and thus a fellow-countryman of the Queen, was quite unabashed at being
unmasked, and with great effrontery announced that he had been turned
out of the university for testifying against Popery and the Prayer Book.
The exasperated Morley called him, with apparently only too much reason,
“a counterfeit pretended convert” whom “Maimbourg magnifies so much,
tho’ he knows he proved himself to be an arrant impostor and profligated
wretch.”[245]
Footnote 244:
“Autobiography of Sir John Bramston.”
Footnote 245:
“Register and Chronicle,” by Kennet, Bishop of Peterborough.
A year or two earlier, a letter from Anne to the Bishop of Durham, dated
10th September 1665, expresses her attitude with regard to the Anglican
Church at that period.
“RIGHT REVEREND FATHER IN GOD,—Though you might assure yourselfe
that you should alwaies find that reception with mee which is
due to your quality and merits yet I should have been sorry that
your respect to mee should have induced you to a journey
injurious to your health the preservation of w^h for the good of
the Church I have great reason to wish and doe desire you to be
perswaded that I should be glad of any occasion whereby I might
show you that I am
“Your affectionate friend
“ANNE.”[246]
Footnote 246:
Rawlinson MS. (Bodleian).
This was written from York where the writer was with her husband on one
of their “progresses,” and the prelate to whom it was addressed was no
other than the saintly Cosin. During his exile at Charenton, near Paris,
he had been much engaged in controversy, on one occasion, with the Prior
of the English Benedictines, whom he had defeated by the force of “much
learning and sound reasoning.”
At the Restoration he had returned to his deanery of Peterborough, where
he was the first person to use the Restored Prayer Book in the
cathedral, but the same year was consecrated Bishop of Durham, where he
died in 1672,[247] in the seventy-eighth year of his age. He displayed
extraordinary munificence throughout his episcopate, and one of his
bequests recalls a very real need of that period, for he left a sum for
the redemption of Christian slaves.
Footnote 247:
“Sufferings of the Clergy.” Walker.
For some time after the incident of Macedo’s exposure, the Duchess of
York seems to have been to all intents and purposes a loyal churchwoman,
and indeed to Morley himself she never owned the change in her faith,
even though she stayed at the episcopal palace at Farnham after she
wrote the letter of recantation which will be noticed later.
Moreover Blandford, Bishop of Worcester, succeeded Bishop Morley in her
household after the latter’s resignation when involved in Clarendon’s
disgrace; therefore up to that time she had certainly not severed her
connection with the Church of her baptism.
There now comes the difficult task of seeking the motive for so grave a
resolution.
Burnet, who is never apt to attribute the best motives for any action,
declares that Anne took the step in the desperate hope of winning back
her husband’s affections, alienated from her by the affair with Henry
Sidney. She, so says Burnet, “lost the power she had over him so
entirely that no method she could think of was likely to recover it
except one.”[248]
Footnote 248:
Burnet’s “History of His Own Time.”
But to this assertion Anne’s own avowal, which carries the stamp of
conviction, gives the lie; and besides, as the Duke of York had not
then, nor did for some time after, openly abjure the Anglican Church,
his wife’s strong common-sense must have told her that her own apostasy
could only have a disastrous effect on the future fortunes of both. That
she did not renounce her Church lightly is certain. She had read much on
the subject, and among other books she was conversant with Heylin’s
“History of the Reformation.”[249] There is no evidence that the Duke’s
sister-in-law, the Queen, influenced her in any way. Indeed, poor
Catherine was not a person to exercise such a quality, nor to bring
pressure to bear on anyone, devout and conscientious though she was from
first to last. Besides, Duchess Anne was too strong willed and resolute
to bow to any one’s ruling, least of all to that of one so yielding,
placable and self-effacing as the neglected wife of Charles II.
Footnote 249:
“Adventures of King James II.,” by the author of “Life of Sir Kenelm
Digby,” introduction by F. A. Gasquet, D.D.
It is impossible to lay a finger on the precise period when Anne first
began to waver in her allegiance to the Church, but the falling off was
first suspected in 1669, and not before. When her neglect of the Holy
Eucharist was first noticed by him, Morley spoke to her plainly and
faithfully on the point, when she gave him an evasive answer, alleging
as deterrent reasons the state of her health and the claims of business,
and at the same time declared that no Roman priest had ever spoken to
her of these questions. She also voluntarily promised the bishop, that
if any scruples should occur to her, she would at once tell him of them.
This, however, so he afterwards told Burnet, she never did. It is
strange and sad that, after so many years of complete confidence, Anne
should shrink from consulting this faithful adviser, but there were
reserves in her character which were manifested to the end. Possibly a
certain pride had something to do with it, a reluctance to own herself
capable of change in any direction, and she preferred to wrestle with
her perplexities unaided and unthwarted. At last the King became
conscious of his sister-in-law’s continued abstention from Holy
Communion, and questioned his brother on the subject.[250] The Duke at
once owned the fact of his wife’s conversion, and her intention of being
received into the Roman Communion.[251] On this he was peremptorily
charged to keep the momentous secret, at all hazards, for the King,
always astute and, when he chose to be, far-seeing, was too well aware
of the temper of the English people to run the risk of making public a
matter of such importance. It was in August 1670 that Anne was formally
reconciled to the Church of Rome by Father Hunt, a Franciscan, who with
Lady Cranmer, her lady-in-waiting, and one Dupuy, a servant of the Duke,
were for a time the sole depositaries of this matter; for it does not
appear that even the Queen was at this time, at any rate, a party to the
secret. It must be borne in mind as giving weight to the King’s
prohibition, that Anne was the wife of the heir presumptive to the
Crown, and the mother of his apparent successors, and this rendered her
faith, in the eyes of the nation, of the last importance.
Footnote 250:
“Life of James II.” Rev. J. S. Clarke, from original MSS. in Carlton
House, 1816. “A suspicion the Duchess was inclined to be a Roman
Catholic. She that had all her life been very regular in receiving
once a month the Sacrament in the Church of England’s way, and upon
all occasions had shown herself very zealous in her profession.”
Footnote 251:
Macpherson’s “Original Papers,” 1775 ed.
In that same month of August[252] the Duchess of York wrote the
confession now transcribed, which was published by James after his
accession to the throne “for his Household and Chappel” in 1686.
Footnote 252:
It is dated the 20th of the month.
“It is so reasonable to expect that a person always Bred up in
the Church of England, and as well instructed in the Doctrine of
it, as the best Divines, and her capacity could make her, should
be liable to many censures for leaving That, and making herself
a member of the Roman Catholic Church, to which, I confess, I
was one of the greatest enemies it ever had; That I chose rather
to endeavour to satisfy my friends by reading this Paper then to
have the trouble to answer all the questions that may dayly be
asked of me. And first, I do protest in the presence of Almighty
God, That no Person, Man or Woman, Directly nor Indirectly, ever
said anything to me (since I came into England) or used the
least endeavour to make me change my Religion. It is a blessing
I wholly owe to Almighty God, and I hope the hearing of a Prayer
I dayly made Him, ever since I was in France and Flanders, Where
seeing much of the Devotion of the Catholicks, (though I had
very little myself) I made it my continual request to Almighty
God: That if I were not, I might before I died be in the true
Religion: I did not in the least doubt, but that I was so, and
never had any manner of scruple till November last, when reading
a book called the History of the Reformation, by Doctor Heylin
which I had heard very much commended, and had been told, if
ever I had any doubt in my Religion, that would settle me:
Instead of which, I found it the description of the horridest
Sacriledges in the World: and could find no reason why we left
the Church, but for Three the most abominable ones that were
ever heard of amongst Christians. First, Henry the Eighth
Renounced the Pope’s Authority because he would not give him
leave to part with his Wife and marry Another in her life time:
Secondly Edward the Sixth was a Child and govern’d by his Uncle
who made his Estate out of Church Lands: and then Queen
Elizabeth, who being no Lawful Heiress to the Crown could have
no way to keep it but by renouncing a Church that could never
suffer so unlawful a thing to be done by one of Her Children. I
confess, I cannot think the Holy Ghost could ever be in such
Counsels and it is very strange that if the Bishops had no
design but (as they say) the restoring us to the Doctrines of
the Primitive Church, they should never think upon it how Henry
the Eighth made the Breach upon so unlawful a Pretence. These
scruples being raised, I began to consider of the difference
between the Catholicks and Us, and Examin’d them as well as I
could by the Holy Scriptures, which though I do not pretend to
be able to understand, yet there are some things I found so
easie that I cannot but wonder I had been so long without
finding them out. As the Real Presence in the Blessed Sacrament,
the Infallibility of the Church, Confession, and Praying for the
Dead. After this I spoke severally to Two of the best Bishops we
have in England, who both told me, there were many things in the
Roman Church which (it were very much to be wished) we had kept.
As Confession, which was no doubt commanded by God; That Praying
for the Dead was one of the Ancient Things in Christianity. That
for their parts they did it Daily, though they would not own it;
but afterwards pressing one of them very much upon the other
Points, he told me That if he had been bred a Catholick he would
not change his Religion, but that being of another Church,
wherein he was sure were all things necessary to Salvation, he
thought it very ill to give that Scandal, as to leave that
Church, wherein he had received his Baptism. All these
Discourses did but add more to the desire I had to be a
Catholick, and gave me the most terrible Agonies in the World,
within myself. For all this, fearing to be rash in a matter of
that Weight, I did all I could to satisfie myself, made it my
Daily Prayer to God to settle me in the Right, and so went on
Christmas Day to receive in the King’s Chappel, after which I
was more troubled than ever, and could never be in quiet till I
had told my desire to a Catholick who brought a Priest to me,
and that was the First I ever did Converse with upon my Word.
The more I spoke to him, the more I was Confirm’d in my design,
and, as it is impossible for me to doubt of the words of our
Blessed Saviour, who says the Holy Sacrament is his Body and
Blood, so I cannot Believe, that He who is the author of all
truth and who has promis’d to be with His Church to the End of
the World would permit them to give that Holy Mystery to the
Laiety but in one kind, if it were not Lawful so to do.
“I am not able, or, if I were, would I enter into Disputes with
any Body, I only in short say this for the changing of my
Religion, which I take God to Witness I would never have done if
I had thought it possible to save my Soul otherwise. I think I
need not say, it is any Interest in this World leads me to it;
it will be plain enough to every body, that I must lose all the
Friends and Credit I have here by it; and have very well weighed
which I could best part with, my share in this world or the
next; I thank God I found no difficulty in the Choice.
“My only Prayer is, that the poor Catholicks of this Nation
may not suffer for my being of their Religion; That God would
but give me Patience to bear them, and then, send me any
affliction in this World, so I may enjoy a Blessed Eternity
hereafter.”[253]
Footnote 253:
Harleian MSS.; also “Copy of a paper written by the late
Dutchess of York. Published by His Majesties command. Printed
by Henry Hills, Printer to the Kings most Excellent Majesty
for His Household and Chappel. 1686.”
The inherent weakness and insufficiency of the arguments put forward by
the writer in this paper are manifest at once, but her sincerity can
scarcely be impugned. Indeed, throughout her career this quality was
always conspicuous in Anne Hyde, to an extent which often, in her
relations with those about her, made for unpopularity.
It must be mentioned in this place that John Evelyn disbelieved the
authorship of this letter. Writing to Bishop Morley as early as 1681, he
says:
“Father Maimburg has had the impudence to publish at the end of
his late Histoire du Calvinisme a pretended letter of the late
Duchess of York intimating the motives of her deserting the
Church of England, amongst other things to attribute it to the
indifference, to call it no worse, of those two bishops upon
whose advice she wholly depended as to the direction of her
conscience and points of controversy. ’Tis the universal
discourse that your Lordship is one of these bishops she
mentions, if at least the letter be not suppositious, knowing
you to have been the most domestic in the family, and one whom
her Highness resorted to in all her doubts and spiritual
concerns, not only during her former circumstances, but all the
time of her greatness to the very last. It is therefore humbly
and earnestly desired (as well as indeed expected) amongst all
that are concerned for our religion and the great and worthy
character which your Lordship bears, that your Lordship would do
right to it, and publish to all the world how far you are
concerned in this pretended charge and to vindicate yourself and
our Church from what this bold man would have the world believe
to the prejudice of both. I know your Lordship will be curious
to read the passage yourself and do what becomes you upon this
signal occasion, God having placed you in a station where you
have no great one’s frowns to fear or flatter, and given you a
zeal for the truth and for his Glory. With this assurance I
humbly beg y^r Lordship’s blessing.”[254]
Footnote 254:
“Diary and Correspondence of John Evelyn.”
We have already seen that Morley distinctly stated to Burnet that his
pupil the Duchess had never asked his counsel in her difficulty,
therefore he could not have been either of the bishops whom she cited,
and a marginal note to Anne’s letter states, moreover, that the bishops
referred to were Sheldon and Blandford. Evelyn, it is true, does not
give the ground for his scepticism in the authenticity of the letter. He
may or may not be right, but the fact of James’ order for its
publication would seem to stamp it as genuine, even if the writer had
been prejudiced, or mistaken, in her references to the bishops.
Anne’s dutiful and regular attendance on religious observances naturally
drew attention to the neglect of them which she manifested in later
years, but the secret was well kept, and though suspected in some
quarters, did not leak out to the world in general in her lifetime.
We can, without much difficulty, picture the bitter heart-searchings,
the doubt, the reluctance, intensified by failing health, which must
have accompanied this momentous change; but we must at least give her
credit for the absolute candour of her convictions.
There was one person who was deeply and specially affected by this
departure on her part.
On her father, the exiled Chancellor, the news of his daughter’s change
of religion inflicted a crushing blow, stanch as he had always shown
himself to be to the Anglican Church.[255] His recollections of the
great civil strife in which he had been so deeply involved were
inextricably bound up with loyalty and devotion to that Church, as well
as to the master who had undoubtedly suffered for her, and thus by that
sacrifice secured her continuity. To Hyde, as to many others of his time
and circumstances, the scaffold at Whitehall stood as a witness to the
faith, invested with the glory of that most sacred memory. And now from
the hand that was best beloved to him, came the wound that must rankle
till the end.
Footnote 255:
Burnet’s “History of His Own Time,” ed. 1766. “Her father was more
troubled at her uncertainty than his own misfortunes.”
It is quite probable that the Chancellor had already suspicions of
leanings towards Rome on the part of the Duke of York, and had to a
great extent trusted in his daughter’s strength of character and
influence as a deterrent; so that the unexpected defection on her part
would be regarded by him as a disaster for the country no less than for
herself.
At this unhappy juncture Clarendon therefore took up the pen, which in
his hand was so trenchant a weapon, and addressed both husband and wife,
separately, in words which deserve the strongest admiration and respect.
“S^R,—I have not p’sumed in any matter to approach yo’ Royall
p’sence Since I have been marked with the Brand of Banishment,
and I should still with the same awe forbear the p’sumption if I
did not believe myselfe bound by all the Obligations of Duty to
make this address to you. I have been acquainted to much with
the p’sumption and impudence of the times in Raising false and
scandalous Imputations and reproaches upon Innocent and worthy
persons of all qualities to give any credit to those loud
whispers which have been long scattered abroad concerning your
Wives being shaken in her religion. But when those Whispers
break out into noise most publick Persons begin to report that
the Dutchess is become a Roman Catholick. When I heard that many
worthy Persons of unquestionable Devotion to your Royall
Highness, are not without some fear and apprehension of it, and
many Reflections are made from them to the prejudice of your
Royal Person, and even of the King’s Majesties, I hope it may
not misbecome me at what distance soever to cast myself at your
Feet, and beseech you to look to this matter, and to apply some
Antidote to expel the Poyson of it. It is not possible your
Royall Highness can be without zeal and Entire Devotion for that
Church for the Purity and Preservation whereof your blessed
Father made himself a Sacrifice and to the Restoration whereof
You have contributed so much yourself, and which highly deserves
the King’s Protection and Yours since there can be no possible
defection in the hearts of the People whilst due Reverence is
made to the Church. Your Wife is so generally believed to have
so perfect Duty and Intire Resignation to the Will of your
Highness, that any defection in Her from Her Religion will be
imputed to want of Circumspection in you and not using your
Authority, or to your connivance. I need not tell the ill
consequences that such a mistake would be attended with, in
reference to your Royale Highness, and even to the King himself
whose greatest security (under God) is in the affection and Duty
of his Protestant subjects, your Royall Highness well knows how
far I have always been from wishing that the Roman Catholicks
should be prosecuted with severity but I less wish it should
ever be in their power to be able to prosecute those who differ
from them since we well know how little moderation they would or
could use. And if this which People so much talk of (I hope
without ground) should fall out, it might very probably raise a
greater storm against the Roman Catholicks in general than
modest Men can wish, since after such a breach any Jealousies of
their presumption would seem reasonable. I have written to the
Dutchess with the freedom and affection of a troubled and
perplexed Father. I do most humbly beseech your Royall Highness
by your Authority to rescue Her from bringing a Mischief upon
You and herself that can never be repaired; and to think it
worthy your wisdom to remove and dispell those reproaches (how
false soever) by better Evidence than Contempt, and hope you do
believe that no severity I have or can undergo, shall in any
degree lessen or diminish my most profound Duty to His Majesty
or your Royall Highness, but that I do with all imaginable
Obedience submit to your good Pleasure in all things.
“God preserve Your Royall Highness and keep me in your favour.
“Sir,
“Your R. H. most Humble and obedient Servant,
“CLARENDON.”[256]
Footnote 256:
Lansdown MSS.; also State Tracts, 1660 to 1689.
So much for the letter of remonstrance to his son-in-law. Through all
the stately, measured, elaborate phraseology and studied deference the
writer’s deep anxiety may be traced quite distinctly, but in the words
addressed to Anne herself, sorrow, affection, warning, reproof speak, as
is natural, with undisguised warmth. The father is yearning over the
child who is passing beyond his ken, and from the place of his lonely
exile he gathers up his utmost powers, to lead, if it may be, the
wandering lamb home to the fold.
“You have much reason,” so run the words, “to believe that I
have no mind to trouble you or displease you, especially in an
argument that is so unpleasant and grievous to myself; but as no
distance of place that is between us, in respect of our
Residence or the greater distance in Respect of the high
condition you are in, can make me less your Father or absolve me
from performing those obligations which that Relation requires
from me, So when I receive any Credible Advertisement of what
reflects upon you, in point of Honour, Conscience or Discretion,
I ought not to omit the informing You of it, or administering
such advice to You as to my understanding seems reasonable, and
which I must still hope will have some Credit with You, I will
confess to You that what You wrote to me many Months since, upon
those Reproaches which I told you were generally reported
concerning your defection in Religion, gave me so much
satisfaction that I believed them to proceed from that ill
Spirit of the Times that delights in Slanders and Calumny, but I
must tell you, the same report increases of late very much, and
I myself saw a Letter the last week from Paris, from a person
who said the English Embassador assured him the day before, that
the Dutchess was become a Roman Catholick, and which makes great
Impression upon me, I am assured that many good men in England
who have great Affection for You and Me, and who have thought
nothing more impossible than that there should be such a change
in You, are at present under much affliction with the
observation of a great change in your course of Life and that
constant Exercise of the Devotion which was so notorious and do
apprehend from your frequent Discourses that you have not the
same Reverence and Devotion which You use to have for the Church
of England, the Church in which You were Baptized, and the
Church the best constituted and the most free from Errors of any
Christian Church this day in the world, and that some persons by
their insinuations have prevailed with You to have a better
Opinion of that which is most opposite to it, the Church of
Rome, than the integrity thereof deserves. It is not yet in my
power to believe that your Wit and Understanding (with God’s
blessing upon both) can suffer you to be shaken further than
with Melancholick reflections upon the Iniquity and wickedness
of the Age we live in, which discredits all Religion, and which
with equal license breaks into the Professors of all, and
prevails upon the Members of all Churches, and whose Manners
will have no benefit from the Faith of any Church. I presume You
do not intangle Yourself in the particular Controversies between
the Romanists and us, or think Yourself a competent Judge of all
difficulties which occur therein; and therefore it must be some
fallacious Argument of Antiquity and Universality confidently
urged by men who know less than many of those you are acquainted
with, and ought less to be believed by you, that can raise any
Doubts or Scruples in you, and if You will with equal temper
hear those who are well able to inform You in all such
particulars it is not possible for you to suck in that Poyson
which can only corrupt and prevail over you by stopping Your own
Ears and shutting Your own Eyes. There are but two persons in
the World who have greater authority with You than I can pretend
to, and am sure they both suffer more in the Rumour, and would
suffer much more if there were ground for it, than I can do, and
truly I am as likely to be deceived myself or to deceive you as
a man who endeavours to pervert You in Your Religion; And
therefore I beseech You to let me have so much Credit with You
as to perswade You to Communicate any Doubts or Scruples which
occur to you before You suffer them to make too deep an
Impression upon You. The common Argument that there is no
Salvation out of the Church and that the Church of Rome is the
only true Church is both irrational and untrue; there are many
Churches in which Salvation may be attained as well as in any
one of them, and were many even in the Apostles time otherwise
they would not have directed their epistles to so many Severall
Churches in which there were different Opinions received and
very different Doctrines taught. There is indeed but one Faith
in which we can be saved; the stedfast belief of the Birth,
Passion and Resurrection of our Saviour; and every Church that
receives and embraces that Faith is in a state of Salvation, if
the Apostles Preach true Doctrine, the reception and retention
of many errors do’s not destroy the Essence of a Church, if it
did, the Church of Rome would be in as ill, if not in a worse
Condition than most other Christian Churches, because its Errors
are of a greater Magnitude and more destructive to Religion. Let
not the Canting Discourse of the Universality and Extent of that
Church which has as little of Truth as the rest, prevail over
You, they who will imitate the greatest part of the World, must
turn Heathens, for it is generally believed that above half the
World is possessed by them, and that the Mahometans possess more
than half the remainder; There is as little question that of the
rest which is inhabited by Christians, one part of four is not
of the communion of the Church of Rome, and God knows that in
that very Communion there is as great discord in Opinion, and in
matters of as great moment, as is between the other Churches. I
hear you do in publick discourses dislike some things in the
Church of England, as the marriage of the Clergy, which is a
point that no Roman Catholic will pretend to be of the Essence
of Religion, and is in use in many places which are of the
Communion of the Church of Rome, as in Bohemia, in those parts
of the Greek Church which submit to the Roman; And all men know,
that in the late Council of Trent, the Sacrament of both kinds,
and liberty of the clergy to marry, was very passionately
press’d both by the Emperor and King of France for their
Dominions, and it was afterwards granted to Germany, though
under such conditions as made it ineffectual; which however
shows that it was not, nor ever can be look’d upon as matter of
Religion. Christianity was many hundred years old, before such a
restraint was ever heard of in the Church; and when it was
endeavoured, it met with great opposition, and was never
submitted to. And as the positive Inhibition seems absolutely
unlawful so the Inconveniences which result from thence will
upon a just disquisition be found superior to those which attend
the liberty which Christian Religion permits. Those Arguments
which are not strong enough to draw persons from the Roman
Communion into that of the Church of England, when Custom and
Education, and a long stupid resignation of all their faculties
to their Teachers, usually shuts out all reason to the contrary,
may yet be abundant to retain those who have been baptized, and
Bred and Instructed in the Grounds and Principles of that
Religion which are in truth not only founded upon the clear
Authority of the Scriptures, but upon the consent of Antiquity
and the practice of the Primitive Church, and men who look into
Antiquity know well by what Corruption and Violence and with
what constant and Continual Opposition, those Opinions which are
contrary to ours, crept into the World, and how unwarrantably
the Authority of the Bishop of Rome, which alone supports all
the rest, came to prevail, who hath no more pretence of
Authority and Power in England, than the Bishop of Paris and
Toledo can as reasonably lay claim to, and is so far from being
matter of Catholick Religion, that the Pope hath so much and no
more to do in France or Spain or any other Catholick Dominion,
than the Crown and Laws and Constitution of several Kingdoms
gave him leave, which makes him so little (if at all) considered
in France, and so much in Spain; And therefore the English
Catholicks which attribute so much to him make themselves very
unwarrantable of another Religion than the Catholick Church
professeth and without doubt they who desert the Church of
England, of which they are Members, and become thereby
disobedient to the Ecclesiastical and Civil Laws of their
Country and therein renounce their Subjection to the State as
well as to the Church (which are grievous sins) had need to have
a better excuse than the meeting with some doubts which they
could not answer, and less than a manifest evidence that their
Salvation is desperate in that Communion cannot serve their
turn; and they who imagine they have such an evidence, ought
rather to suspect that their Understanding hath forsaken them,
and that they are become mad, than that the Church which is
replenished with all Learning and Piety requisite, can betray
them to Perdition. I beseech you to consider (which I hope will
overrule those ordinary Doubts and Objections which may be
infus’d into you) that if you change your Religion, you renounce
all Obedience and Affection to your Father, who loves you so
tenderly that such an odious Mutation would break his heart, you
condemn your Father and your Mother (whose incomparable Virtue,
Piety and Devotion hath plac’d her in Heaven) for having
impiously Educated you; and you declare the Church and State, to
both which you owe Reverence and Subjection, to be in your
Judgment Antichristian; you bring irreparable dishonour, scandal
and prejudice to the Duke your Husband to whom you ought to pay
all imaginable Duty, and whom I presume is much more precious to
you than your own life, and all possible ruine to your Children
of whose company and conversation you must look to be depriv’d,
for God forbid that after such an Apostacie, you should have any
power in the Education of your Children. You have many Enemies,
whom you herein would abundantly gratifie, and some Friends,
whom you will thereby (at least as far as in you lies) perfectly
destroy; and afflict many others who have deserved well of you.
I know you are not inclined to any part of this mischief, and
therefore offer those Considerations, as all those particulars
would be the infallible Consequence of such a Conclusion. It is
to me the saddest Circumstance of my Banishment that I may not
be admitted in such a season as this, to confer with you, when I
am confident I could satisfie you in all your Doubts, and make
it appear to you that there are many Absurdities in the Roman
Religion inconsistent with your Judgment and Understanding, and
many Impieties inconsistent with your Conscience; so that before
you can submit to the Obligations of Faith, you must divest
yourself of your Natural Reason and Common Sense, and captivate
the distastes of your own conscience to the Impositions of an
Authority which hath not any pretence to oblige or advise you.
If you will not with freedom communicate the Doubts which occur
to you, to those near you of whose Learning and Piety you have
had much experience, let me Conjure you to impart them to me,
and to expect my answer before you suffer them to prevail over
you. God bless you and yours.”[257]
Footnote 257:
Lansdown MS.
It is a long, stilted, tedious letter, read under present-day
conditions, and the methods used by the writer in argument hardly
commend themselves, but, especially towards the end, the anxiety of the
father’s heart is made quite evident. The great lawyer marshals all the
force of controversy at his command in the vain hope of influencing his
daughter and reversing the decision so dreaded by him. He appeals to her
heart, no less than to her head.[258] Husband, children, friends—he
places before her the possible loss of all, the harm that may accrue to
them; he leaves, as far as may be, nothing unsaid, nothing untried. It
is curious and significant that one sentence reveals the fact that
Clarendon was aware of his daughter’s unpopularity in certain quarters.
“You have many enemies,” he says, as he points to the triumph which her
change of faith would afford them as one reason, if an unworthy one,
against it. The pathetic significance of this last letter is driven home
all the more forcibly for this reason—that she to whom these weighty
words were addressed, doubtless with many prayers that they might
prevail, was destined never to read them. Death stepped in, and for ever
sealed the page.
Footnote 258:
“It is well known that when Kings and Princesses of the Blood make an
alliance with a subject, their arms are not put into the Royal
Escutcheon, nor did ever the late Duchess of York call the Lord
Chancellor father, nor did ever the late King James call the Earls of
Clarendon and Rochester brothers, nor the Princesses Mary and Anne
term them as uncles. Indeed the late Chancellor, when he wrote letters
of advice to the late Duchess in relation to her changing her religion
made use of the style of Daughter, which indeed he ought not to have
done” (“Aylesbury Memoirs.” Roxburghe Club).
“At Queen Anne’s accession, the second Lord Clarendon, her uncle, came
to see her, and simply said, ‘I wish to see my niece’—which meant that
her brother was now King, and she but a usurper. He had also rebuked
her for her flight to Nottingham at the time of her father’s reverses.
On her part Anne would not receive her uncle without the oath of
allegiance, and this he refused” (“Queen Anne and her Court.” P. F.
Williams Ryan.)
As already mentioned, the fact of the Duchess of York’s conversion was
not known for some time later, though suspicion was soon busy on the
subject, and the Court, in high excitement, buzzed with the matter.
It was probably a trial to any one so outspoken and downright as Duchess
Anne to conceal a fact of which she was certainly not ashamed, but the
commands of the King conveyed to her through his brother, were
peremptory and stringent, and she consented to hold her tongue for the
present. As things turned out there was soon no reason for silence,
except in so far as her change might have affected others. So the royal
convert practised her new faith in silence. The chaplains shook their
heads as Sunday after Sunday the Duchess turned away from “God’s Board.”
Morley was no longer at her right hand, and the others spoke only aside
to each other—not to her. Anne was never very approachable, and she had
long learned the value of her position in checking inconvenient
inquiries. Sweet-faced Margaret Blagge grieved silently, but she was
very young, and dared not speak, even if the exigencies of her post
would have allowed it.
The Duke of York, after his exercise of authority and the message he had
transmitted from the King, said nothing. The time for confidence between
those two was long past, and though he secretly sympathised with his
wife in the step she had taken—his own subsequent action is warrant
sufficient for that—estrangement had become a habit, and the party wall
dividing husband and wife needed a stronger force still to throw it
down. Perhaps a word or two may have passed between the new convert and
Queen Catherine. It is more than likely, indeed, but the latter, timid
and shrinking, was not constituted to uphold any one, and besides, she
was far too much in awe of the King, too pathetically anxious to please
him, to be capable of running counter to any commands he might choose to
enforce. She could, and probably did, give approbation, sympathy, for
what they were worth, but of these Anne stood in no need, then nor at
any other time. Her position was one of “lonely splendour,” and she had
long learnt to stand alone and carve out her own path. No doubt the
lesson had been a bitter one, but she had learnt it once for all. During
this year, moreover—1670—the Duke was seriously ill,[259] and this fact
may have aided in the estrangement from his wife, or at any rate in the
withholding of complete confidence from him.
Footnote 259:
“Adventures of King James II.,” by the author of “Life of Sir Kenelm
Digby.”
It was in other respects a momentous year for the whole royal house in
England, and that in a way to be presently described. An unexpected and
sinister development was to change in some degree the aspect of things.
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