THE QUEEN'S CONVERTS
Now for my converts who, you say, unfed,
Have follow'd me for miracles of bread,
Judge not by hearsay, but observe at least,
If since their change their loaves have been increas'd.
J. DRYDEN
Considering the activity of the Catholics at the Court of Charles I and his
Queen, it is not surprising that from time to time some one, man or woman,
abjured the national faith to enter what it was so confidently asserted was
the one true fold. When this occurred Protestant feeling was apt to run
high, and the King, to whose indulgence the trouble was certainly in some
measure due, usually expressed himself greatly shocked and indignant, and
for a time, at least, withdrew his favour from the offender.
Perhaps the most remarkable of these cases was that of the Queen's friend,
Walter Montagu. This gentleman, who had improved his natural talents by
travels which led him to Madrid, to Paris and to Rome, was also much
noticed by the King, to whom he was recommended by the fact that he had
been a friend of Buckingham, and had actually been with the Duke when he
was assassinated at Portsmouth. He was employed a good deal on secret
service, and once he was able to render an important service, destined to
influence both their lives, to Queen Anne of Austria. He had been sent by
his own sovereign to stir up Savoy and Lorraine against France, and not
even his position as envoy of England could save him or his dispatches from
the emissaries of Richelieu or from the Bastille. Anne was implicated in
these intrigues against her husband's country, and in an agony of terror,
haunted by visions of the ignominious return to Spain with which she had
several times been threatened, she sent to Montagu to learn the extent of
her danger. The young Englishman, who had long worshipped the beautiful
Queen,[185] gladly seized the opportunity of proving his devotion. Let the
Queen have no fear, came back his chivalrous answer; she was not mentioned
in the dispatches, and rather than that she should come to harm he would
lay down his life. This sacrifice was not required, but Anne escaped
detection and Montagu earned her lifelong gratitude. On his return to
England after his enlargement, he made rapid progress in the favour of
Henrietta Maria in spite of the connection with Buckingham, which can
hardly have been a recommendation to her. So great was the kindness with
which she regarded him, that no courtier seemed to have before him a more
prosperous career, when towards the end of 1635 the Court was startled by
the news that he had joined the Church of Rome. "Sure the Devil rides
him,"[186] was the pithy comment of one of his acquaintance, John
Ashburnham.
Walter, who at this time was living in Paris, defended his action in a
highly argumentative letter which he addressed to his father, but which he
took care to have distributed among his friends in many copies. The Earl of
Manchester, who was said to be the best-tempered man in England, does not
seem to have been able to support this vexation with equanimity, and he
sent a somewhat acrid reply to his son, whose apologetics were also refuted
by Lucius, Lord Falkland. Montagu had often enjoyed the intellectual
hospitality of Great Tew, where men of wit and learning were accustomed to
gather round this accomplished young nobleman, who was the more fitted for
his task of controversy, inasmuch as his mother, his brothers and his
sisters were among the "revolters to Rome," while his own fidelity to the
Church of England had been for a while gravely in question.
But before Montagu received the remonstrances and arguments of his friends
(which, as usually happens in such cases, proved quite unavailing), he had
met with an adventure which connects his change of faith with one of the
most curious episodes in the religious history of the period.
At this time all France was talking of the terrible fate of the Ursuline
nuns at Loudun, who were manifestly possessed by the devil, and of the
wonderful exorcisms whereby certain holy men were able to overcome his
wiles and machinations. It was quite a fashionable amusement to ride out to
Loudun, visit the "possessed," and witness the ceremonies of exorcism; and
one day at the end of November, 1635, Montagu, accompanied by Thomas
Killigrew, a literary friend whom he had met in Paris, set off and arrived
in due course at the convent of which Satan had made his stronghold. There
the two Englishmen, who were provided with a letter of introduction from
the Archbishop of Tours, saw some of the marvels which are recorded in the
_Histoire des Diables de Loudun_. The poor possessed nuns crawled about
before them gnawing and bellowing like wild beasts and uttering fearful
blasphemies, until the devil was forced to relinquish his prey by the
application of various relics and the recitation of appropriate prayers.
Strangers were always welcome at these spectacles, though sometimes they
came away calling the poor nuns "impostorious," an epithet applied to them
by honest John Evelyn, who knew them but by repute; but Montagu, as an
Englishman of noble birth high in the favour of the Queen of France, was
treated with special distinction, Father Surin, the exorcist, who had been
told by the Archbishop of Tours "so to manage matters that the English lord
might receive edification,"[187] even permitting him to hold the hand of
one of the most distinguished of the patients, Mother des Anges, from whom
eventually four demons were chased. On this occasion she was possessed by
an evil spirit named Balaam, who had boasted that on his exit he would
print his name upon his victim's hand. But the good Father, "judging it
more proper that a religious person should bear on her hand the name of a
saint than that of a devil,"[188] forced him to another course of action.
As Montagu gazed upon the poor struggling woman, who required several
persons to hold her in her paroxysm, he beheld, as he had been led to
expect, the name of Joseph write itself on the back of her hand in small
red dots. This strange occurrence, which seemed to him explicable on no
natural ground, impressed his mind as much as it was intended that it
should,[189] and he convert returned to Paris with an increased
appreciation of the advantages of belonging to a Church which held in her
hand the power of such marvels. He hastened to communicate his impressions
to Richelieu, who took an interest in the nuns, and who was wont to extend
a condescending patronage to the Englishman, whom in his heart he despised
and distrusted. "I have seen at Loudun," wrote the new convert after
relating his experiences, "proofs so miraculous of the power of the Church
that above my belief I owe to God perpetual gratitude"; nor, he added, was
he alone in his admiration. Several Englishmen "who were possessed by a
spirit of falsehood and contradiction"[190] had come away confessing with
him that the matter was miraculous. His friend Killigrew was not, it seems,
one of these convicted gainsayers. The poet left Loudun quite unconvinced
and rather sceptical about the whole affair, though he confessed that he
could not account for the print on the nun's hand.[191]
Montagu's prospects of a great career in the service of the King were over.
He loudly asserted his loyalty, but probably he hardly needed his father's
stern reminder that though "the King's benignitie and goodnesse is always
to interpret the best," yet "his Majestie hath a better opinion of those
that are bred such [i.e. Catholics] than of those who become such by
relapse."[192]
In effect, the King from that moment turned his back upon his servant,
whom, it seems, he had never personally much liked. Not even the memory of
Buckingham could cover such a failure of loyalty and patriotism.
But Walter was not to suffer by a change of faith, which some people, and
among them Cardinal Richelieu (whom the convert's account of his
experiences left untouched), were not slow to attribute to self-interest
rather than to religious feeling. The Queen had always been fond of him on
account of his singular charm of manner, which often fascinated even his
enemies, and after his conversion she admitted him to a degree of intimacy
and confidence which more than made up for the coldness of the King. It was
felt, indeed, that for a while he had better remain upon the Continent, and
he spent a pleasant time in Paris, where he showed his zeal for his
new-found faith by professing himself ready to die for it, and by
accompanying the King of France to Mass with a rosary hung round his neck.
Thence he passed on to Turin, where he met with a warm reception from
Henrietta's sister Christine, whose acquaintance he had made some years
earlier when he was in Savoy as secret agent for the King of England. Now
he was able to present to the Duchess a warm letter of introduction from
her sister, and it appears that he did her some trifling service which led
to a pleasant correspondence between the Courts of England and Savoy.
"Pardon me," wrote Henrietta, "that I have not written to you earlier ...
to thank you ... for the favours which you have shown to Wat Montague. I
know that you have done it for my sake, though truly he merits them for his
own. He does nothing but praise the honours which you have done him, and I
believe that he for his part would gladly lose his life for your
service.... I am very glad that Wat has been able to do you some service. I
am sure that he has done it with all his heart. As for his melancholy
humour, that is perhaps some scruple of conscience which he will lose at
Rome. Besides, he is not naturally very gay."[193]
He went to Rome, and whether he lost his scruples there or not he enjoyed
himself very much, keeping a household of seven servants, dining at the
English College with the prestige of a recent convert, and cultivating the
further acquaintance of the Barberini who, when he was in the city before,
had shown him distinguished attentions, which they now felt had not been
thrown away. The Pope, who "was as much a pretender to be oecumenical
patron of poets as Head of the Church,"[194] liked a convert who was also a
wit, while Cardinal Francesco honoured his visitor with so warm a
friendship that henceforth the two men carried on a frequent
correspondence.[195] Still, despite these distractions, Montagu's eyes all
the time were fixed upon England. His return thither was much desired by
the papal party, and particularly by Con, who was aware of his influence
over the Queen. She, for her part, used all her power with her husband to
win his recall; but Charles, who never got over an affront, was not easily
to be persuaded, and it was not until 1636 that the offender was allowed to
return to take his place among Henrietta's servants and friends.
At the Court of the Queen he found plenty to occupy him. He was, above all
things, a ladies' man--_un petit fou_, only fit to amuse ladies[196]--as
Richelieu rudely wrote of him; and it was to be expected that in the
religious struggles of the Court women should take a considerable part.
Such a war always appeals to feminine feelings and logic, and in this case
the leader of the army was a woman, and one who, though clever and
energetic, was essentially feminine both in heart and mind. The agents of
the Papacy were far too acute to neglect so obvious a source of influence.
Not only was the Queen flattered in every way, but skilful efforts were
made to win the noble ladies who surrounded her. The Anglicans were not
blind to the danger, as appears from the fact that John Cosin, who spent
most of his life in fighting the Catholics and in being accused of Popery
by the Puritans, published a little book of Hours of Prayer, which the
latter called by the pretty name of "Mr. Cozens his cozening devotions," to
counteract the influence of the _Horæ_, used by Henrietta's Catholic
ladies. But the attacking party had certain advantages to which those of
the defence could not aspire. The pictures, the relics, the medals, which
Panzani and Con took care to distribute, were greatly valued by their
recipients, and pleased even such great ladies as the Marchioness of
Hamilton and the Countess of Denbigh. The latter of these ladies had long
been unsettled in the established religion. It was indeed for her guidance
and at her request that Cosin had written his _Book of Hours_. Many years
were to elapse before she finally abandoned the Church of England, but no
doubt these fascinating trifles played their part in preparing her spirit
for the eventual change.
But there were women at the Court who were not to be won by such methods,
but who entered into the thorny path of controversy. Such an one was Lady
Newport, a relative of the late Duke of Buckingham. She had Catholic
relatives, and, thinking perhaps to reclaim them, she attempted argument
with no less a person than Con himself. The result was not very surprising.
Lady Newport was no match for the subtle and insinuating envoy, and the
upshot of her discussions with him was that one night, as she was returning
home from the play in Drury Lane, she turned aside to Somerset House, where
one of the Capuchin Fathers quietly reconciled her to the Church of Rome.
Her feet were caught in the snare from which she had hoped to rescue
others.
A storm of indignation arose. The irate husband hurried off to Lambeth to
enlist the sympathy of Laud, who, nothing loath, laid the matter before the
King and the Council. "I did my duty to the King and State openly in
Council,"[197] wrote the Archbishop complacently to Wentworth. The names of
Sir Toby Matthew and of Walter Montagu were freely mentioned in connection
with the conversion, and though well-informed persons believed that Con
alone was to blame, these two gentlemen did not escape a considerable
measure of unpopularity. Laud, who, though he was anxious not to offend the
Queen, was becoming alarmed at the boldness of the Catholics, went down on
his knees to the King, praying for the banishment of Montagu, and for leave
to proceed against Sir Toby in the High Commission Court. As for Con, he
said bitterly, he knew neither how he came to Court nor what he was doing
there, and therefore he would say nothing of him.
The King did not grant the Archbishop's modest request, but at the Council
table he spoke so bitterly of both the culprits that "the fright made Wat
keep his chamber longer than his sickness would have detained him, and Don
Tobiah was in such perplexity that I find he will make a very ill man to be
a martyr, by now the dog doth again wag his tail."[198]
The storm, indeed, quickly blew over. Lord Newport forgave his wife, who
discreetly retired to France for a time. Even the Queen, who had been
greatly angered at the treatment of the Catholics, particularly of Montagu,
forgave the Archbishop and received him with the modified favour which was
all she ever had to bestow upon him. Everything seemed to be as before,
only perhaps Laud kept a more watchful eye upon the recusants, and two
years later he was able to take a revenge at once upon the Queen and upon
her priests by causing "two great Trusses of Popish books,"[199] coming
from France for the use of the Capuchins, to be seized by the officers of
the Court of High Commission.
But unfortunately the troubles which had been occasioned by the conversion
of the Countess of Newport did not deter other susceptible ladies from
following in her steps. "The great women fall away every day,"[200] sighed
a good Protestant, writing to a friend in May, 1638. That his plaint was
not without cause is evident from the following portion of a letter which
was written by a foreigner who was then resident in England:--
"The Queen's Majesty has frequented her chapel of Somerset House all Holy
Week with great concourse and rejoicing of these Catholics, to the great
chagrin of the Puritans. Besides the accustomed ceremonies and devotions of
this week, on Holy Saturday a score of ladies of the Court, of whom the
chief was the Duchess of Buckingham, were seen to receive all the
ceremonies of baptism (except the water) at the hands of a Capuchin Father,
and afterwards the sacrament of confirmation at those of the Bishop of
Angoulême, the Grand Almoner of the Queen. All was done within the chapel
in the tribune of Her Majesty ... and in her presence. These ladies desired
this kind of second baptism because they received the first at the hands of
Protestant ministers, which they hold to be valid in a certain sense, and
yet nevertheless mutilated."
The narrator goes on to speak of the anger of the Puritans, who complained
bitterly of such proceedings and of the indifference of Charles to their
clamour. "They will have to calm themselves," he adds, for "to-day the
Queen has greater authority with the King than any one else."[201]
This was in the spring of the year 1638, a few months after the beginning
of the Scotch troubles and two years and a half before the meeting of the
Long Parliament.
[Footnote 185: "My sute is that if ever you have occasion to speak to the
Blessed Queene (Anne) of any ill thing that you express it by naming me,
for that's the only way I can hope she should ever heare of me
againe."--Walter Montagu to Earl of Carlisle. Egerton MS., 2596.]
[Footnote 186: _Cal. S.P. Dom._, 1635, p. 512.]
[Footnote 187: "Le Père Surin de la compagnie de Jésus aiant recu une
lettre de Mgr. l'archeveque de Tours par laquelle il lui reccommandoit de
faire en sorte que le Sieur de Montagu reçût edification aux
exorcisms."--_Procès-verbal_ of exorcisms printed in _Histoire des Diables
de Loudun_, 1693.]
[Footnote 188: _Ibid._]
[Footnote 189: The following is Montagu's own account: "Nous estions ...
presents au sortir du diable qui avoit commandment de tracer le nom de
Joseph sur la main pour marque de la sortie. Je tenois la fille par la main
quand elle fit le grand cris [sic] et quand le prestre nous nous dit qu'il
falloit chercher le signe et ie vis escrire peu a peu les lettres de Joseph
sur le dos de la main en petites pointes de sang ou elles demeurent
gravees."--Montagu to Richelieu, November 30th, 1635. Aff. Etran. Ang., t.
45.
The case of the nuns of Loudun has never been satisfactorily explained; the
"possessions" and exorcisms were witnessed by a large number of persons,
none of whom were able to convict the nuns of fraud. Urbain Grandier, the
priest who was believed to have bewitched them, was burned in 1634. The
following account of Mother des Anges is taken from a biography, written
towards the end of the seventeenth century, of Mother Louise Eugénie de la
Fontaine of the Order of the Visitation: "Mère des Anges etoit une âme dont
les conduites extraordinaires de Dieu sur elle donnoient beaucoup
d'admiration. Chacun scait que dans les fameuses possessions de Loudun ces
saintes filles eprouvèrent cet effroyable fléau. La mère des Anges (que le
feu Père Surin conduisit et admiroit) en etoit une; il chassa de son corps
quatre demons dont le premier écrivit en sortant en gros ses lettres sur la
main droite Jésus, le second en moindre caractère Marie, et le troisième
Joseph en plus petit, et le quatrième encore moindre François de Sales; ces
noms etoient gravez sous le peau, ils paroissoient comme de coleur de rose
sèches mais ils prenoient un vermeil miraculeux au moment de la sainte
communion."]
[Footnote 190: Montagu to Richelieu, November 30th, 1635. Aff. Etran. Ang.,
t. 45.]
[Footnote 191: See Killigrew's own account of the _affaire_ printed in
_European Magazine_, 1803, Vol. 43, p. 102.]
[Footnote 192: "The coppy of a letter sent from France by Mr. Walter
Montagu to his father the Lord Privie Seale with his answere thereunto.
Also a second answer to the same letter by the Lord Falkland" (1641), p.
20.]
[Footnote 193: Ferrero: _Lettres de Henriette Marie de France reine
d'Angleterre à sa soeur Christine duchesse de Savoie_ (1881), p. 45.]
[Footnote 194: _Lignea Ligenda_ (1653), p. 169.]
[Footnote 195: Copies of Montagu's letters to Barberini, extending over
many years, are among the Roman Transcripts in the P.R.O.]
[Footnote 196: P.R.O. Roman Transcripts.]
[Footnote 197: Laud wrote to Wentworth November 1st, 1637. Laud's Works,
Vol. VII, p. 379. See the account of the matter from Laud's point of view
in Heylin: _Cyprians Anglians_, Bk. IV, p. 359 (1668).]
[Footnote 198: Conway to Strafford. _The Earl of Stafford's Letters and
Dispatches_, II, 125.]
[Footnote 199: Turner MS., LXVII.]
[Footnote 200: _The Earl of Stafford's Letters and Dispatches_, II, 165.]
[Footnote 201: Salvetti. Add. MS., 27,962, H., f. 125.]