THE QUEEN OF THE CATHOLICS
They knew not
That what I motioned was of God; I knew
From intimate impulse and therefore urged
The Marriage on, that by occasions hence,
I might begin Israel's deliverance,
The work to which I was divinely called.
JOHN MILTON
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]
[Footnote 104: _Continuation of Weekly Newes_, No. 43, 1624.]
[Footnote 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."]
[Footnote 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.]
[Footnote 107: The original of this letter is preserved among the Archives
of the See of Westminster.]
[Footnote 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.]
[Footnote 109: Bib. Nat., MS. Dupuy, 144.]
[Footnote 110: Bib. Ste Geneviève, Paris, MS. 820. Tillières to Puisieux,
January 9th, 1624.]
[Footnote 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.]
[Footnote 112: Arch. Nat., M. 232.]
[Footnote 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.]
[Footnote 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.]
[Footnote 115: P.R.O. Roman Transcripts.]
[Footnote 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.]
[Footnote 117: P.R.O. French Transcripts.]
[Footnote 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.]
[Footnote 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.]
[Footnote 120: Panzani: P.R.O. Roman Transcripts.]
[Footnote 121: Salvetti: Add. MS., 27,962, I, f. 263.]
[Footnote 122: Aff. Etran. Ang., t. 47.]
[Footnote 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.]
[Footnote 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.]
[Footnote 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._]
[Footnote 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.]
[Footnote 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."]
[Footnote 128: Aff. Etran. Ang., t. 44.]
[Footnote 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.]
[Footnote 130: P.R.O. Roman Transcripts.]
[Footnote 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).]
[Footnote 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.]
[Footnote 133: Archives of See of Westminster: _Summarium de rebus
religionis in Anglia_, 1632.]
[Footnote 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_).]
[Footnote 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).]
[Footnote 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.]
[Footnote 137: See Memoirs of Père Cyprien de Gamache.]
[Footnote 138: Prynne, _Popish Royal Favourite_.]
[Footnote 139: The King contented himself with taking one-third instead of
two-thirds of the property of recusants.]
[Footnote 140: Archives of See of Westminster.]
[Footnote 141: Bishop Hacket: _Memoirs of the Life of Archbishop Williams_
(1715), p. 87.]
[Footnote 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 Anglicans_, IV, p.
411.]
[Footnote 143: Archives of See of Westminster.]
[Footnote 144: Quod non fecerunt barbari, fecerunt Barberini.]
[Footnote 145: Panzani: _Memoirs_, ed. Berington (1793), p. 191.]
[Footnote 146: Archives of See of Westminster.]
[Footnote 147: This statement rests on the authority of Panzani, who had a
considerable prejudice against the Jesuits.]
[Footnote 148: Père Suffren, the confessor of Mary de' Medici, seems to
have been the only Jesuit whom he ever regarded with favour.]
[Footnote 149: Jean Jaubert de Barrault, Bishop of Bazas.]
[Footnote 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.]
[Footnote 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.]
[Footnote 152: P.R.O. Roman Transcripts.]
[Footnote 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.]
[Footnote 154: The details of Douglas' mission are to be found in papers
among the Roman Transcripts P.R.O.]
[Footnote 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.]
[Footnote 156: _Vita Mariæ Stuartæ Scotiæ Reginæ Dotariæ Galliæ,
Angliæ et Hibernis Heredis, scriptore Georgia Conæo._ MDCXXIV.]
[Footnote 157: P.R.O. Roman Transcripts. Henrietta Maria to Urban VIII,
163-8/9.]
[Footnote 158: P.R.O. Roman Transcripts.]
[Footnote 159: Archives of See of Westminster.]
[Footnote 160: See chapter III.]
[Footnote 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.]
[Footnote 162: Bib. Nat., Paris, MS. Cinq Cents de Colbert, 356. Greffier
to Du Perron, December 9th, 1632.]
[Footnote 163: P.R.O. Roman Transcripts.]
[Footnote 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.]
[Footnote 165: Archives of See of Westminster.]
[Footnote 166: _Ibid._]
[Footnote 167: _Ibid._]
[Footnote 168: _Deus, Natura, Gratia_ (1635). The real name of the author
was Christopher Davenport; he died in 1680.]
[Footnote 169: Archives of See of Westminster.]
[Footnote 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.]
[Footnote 171: Archives of See of Westminster. Letter of Peter Fitton,
agent of English secular clergy in Rome, July, 1636.]
[Footnote 172: Add. MS., 15,389.]
[Footnote 173: P.R.O. Roman Transcripts. Henrietta Maria to Cardinal
Barberini, October, 1637.]
[Footnote 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.]
[Footnote 175: P.R.O. Roman Transcripts. In 1629 she had accepted the
dedication of the English translation of Richeome's _Pilgrime of Loretto_.]
[Footnote 176: Add. MS., 15,389.]
[Footnote 177: MS. Français, 23,597.]
[Footnote 178: Rous: _Diary_, Camden Soc. (1856), p. 12.]
[Footnote 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).]
[Footnote 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.]
[Footnote 181: The population of England and Wales was probably about
5,000,000.]
[Footnote 182: Archives of See of Westminster.]
[Footnote 183: Du Perron: _Proces Verbal de l'assemblée du clerge_, 1645.]
[Footnote 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.]