CHAPTER IX

THE QUEEN AND THE WAR

II

The darksome statesman, hung with weights and woe

Like a thick midnight fog mov'd there so slow

He did not stay, nor go;

Condemning thoughts--like sad eclipses--scowl

Upon his soul,

And clouds of crying witnesses without

Pursued him with one shout.

Yet digg'd the mole, and lest his ways be found

Work'd underground

Where he did clutch his prey.

HENRY VAUGHAN

If, at the time of her departure from England, Queen Henrietta Maria had

been able to make choice of a book for her private reading and meditation,

and if in that choice she had been guided by the most enlightened

self-interest, she would perhaps have chosen a little pamphlet published in

London in 1642. It was entitled _A collection of Records of the great

Misfortunes that hath hapned unto Kings that hath joyned themselves in a

near allyance with forrein Princes with the happy successe of those that

have only held correspondency at home_.

Henrietta landed in France in the spring of 1644, and from that time until

her husband's death her life was a continuation of that which she had led

in Holland, namely, a perpetual struggle to gather together men and

money--particularly the latter--to help on the cause of the King of

England. For this she intrigued now with one foreign Prince, now with

another, with the King of Denmark, with the Prince of Orange, with the Duke

of Lorraine, the admirer of Madame de Chevreuse, the old enemy of

Richelieu, with the Pope himself. The result was the undying hatred of a

large section of the English people towards both her and her husband, and a

growing distrust which had much to do with the King's final overthrow.

It is idle to blame her overmuch. It cannot be denied that hers were the

mind and the will which impelled her husband along this fatal road; but he

fell in gladly with her suggestions, and he was almost as eager as she for

help from any quarter. She believed, moreover, that the Scotch rebels had

set the example by intriguing with Richelieu, and she knew that the English

Puritans had made it possible for an army of Scots, who at that time were

looked upon almost as foreigners, to enter into England and to remain upon

its soil. It would have required the brain of an Elizabeth to perceive that

a king, by following such precedents, was courting disaster. Henrietta's

brain, acute, lively, but never profound, was incapable of perceiving this.

Besides, she was a Bourbon, and her simple political creed was identical

with that of her husband: a King should be no tyrant, he should rule his

people with justice and mercy; but it was his to command and theirs to

obey, without asking questions as to matters with which they had no

concern.

The exiled Queen spent some weeks at

"ces admirables Fontaines

Où par douzaines et centaines

Pluzieurs gens vont pour être sain

Et qu'on nomme Bourbon-les-Bains."[308]

Their healing influence, together with the care of some of the most

distinguished physicians of France,[309] restored her to such a small

measure of health as enabled her to turn her steps towards Paris. The

kindness she had received since her arrival in her native land was a

preparation for the magnificent reception which awaited her at the capital.

Her brother, the Duke of Orleans, came out as far as Bourg la Reine to meet

her, and was quickly followed by his daughter, Mademoiselle de Montpensier,

the richly dowered girl of whom Henrietta was already beginning to think as

a possible bride for her eldest son. At Montrouge, on the southern

outskirts of the city, the Queen of England received an even more

distinguished attention, for there the Queen of France, accompanied by her

two little sons, met her. Anne's kind heart was touched when she saw the

sister-in-law from whom she had parted nearly twenty years earlier as a

bride returning sad, sick almost to death, and bereft by ill-health and

sorrow of the brilliant beauty which had then been hers. Forgetting the

girlish unkindness which Henrietta had shown her in the past, remembering

nothing but their common friends and enemies--Richelieu, Madame de

Chevreuse, Jars, Montagu--the Queen of France took the Queen of England

into her arms, and the two women clung together weeping and embracing. Then

they climbed up into the royal coach, and Henrietta made the acquaintance

of the little King, whose unexpected appearance in the world six years

earlier had caused so much excitement, and of the still younger Duke of

Anjou, "the real Monsieur" (as he was called in contradistinction to his

uncle), who was one day to be her son-in-law. In such company there can

have been no tedium in the long drive through the Rue S. Jacques, over the

Pont Neuf, and through the Rue S. Honoré to the Louvre, where the kindness

of Queen Anne had caused apartments to be prepared for the royal guest.

That afternoon deputations from the city of Paris and from the various

sovereign bodies waited upon Henrietta, and the ceremonies of reception

were concluded a few days later by a State visit to Notre-Dame, where the

Queen of England gave thanks to Heaven for her safe return to France

through the ministry of the young Coadjutor Bishop of Paris, the witty and

dissolute churchman who afterwards became famous as Cardinal de Retz, and

who always retained a kindness for the exiled royal family of England.

Nothing could exceed the kindness and sympathy which were shown to the

Queen, kindness all the more welcome because she was aware of the annoyance

it would cause to her enemies. "I am so well treated everywhere that if my

lords of London saw it, I think it would make them uneasy,"[310] she had

written to her husband shortly after her landing in France. She was

assigned a pension of 10,000 crowns a month, which enabled her to keep up a

fitting establishment, and in addition to her lodgings at the Louvre she

was given the Château of S. Germain-en-Laye, where she had played as a

child, and where, half a century later, her son was to wear out a more

desolate exile. Her own affairs prospered. Her health improved surely if

slowly. She had the comfort of the presence of faithful servants--Jermyn,

who acted as her secretary, Henry Percy and Lady Denbigh, who herself had

tasted the full bitterness of civil strife in the death of her husband, who

fell fighting for the King, and in the defection of her eldest son to the

rebels, which sorrows bound her all the more closely to the Queen, who had

shown the tenderest sympathy with her bereavement. Moreover, in Paris

Henrietta found many friends. Familiar faces, indeed, were missed. The

Bishop of Mende had not been given time to learn wisdom by experience, but

had "made an angelical end" at the siege of Rochelle, dying in the same

year as his enemy Buckingham. Madame S. Georges, who had found an

honourable position as governess to the heiress of Montpensier, had passed

away in 1643, and Louis XIII was gone, so that all his sister could do for

him was to journey to S. Denys and to sprinkle his tomb with holy water.

But old servants, such as the Bishop of Angoulême, were there to welcome

her; and in the brilliant Paris of the day she came across not only friends

of the past--M. de Chateauneuf, the Chevalier de Jars, and others--but new

acquaintances, who soon became friends, of whom perhaps the most

interesting was the accomplished Madame de Motteville, herself one of the

band of exiles whom the death of Richelieu had brought back in triumph to

the Court of France.

Nor did she fail to attract the exiles of England to her own Court, where

she gathered round her some of the men of wit and learning whom the evil

times had forced to quit their native land. Thither came "Master Richard

Crashaw, Master of Arts of Peterhouse, Cambridge, well known for his

excellent poems,"[311] who was introduced to the Queen's notice by a

brother poet, Abraham Cowley, at this time Jermyn's secretary. It can

hardly be supposed that Henrietta understood the highly difficult poems of

the Cambridge mystic, but perhaps she talked with him of S. Teresa,[312]

whose praise inspired some of his choicest work, and whom she herself had

learned to love as a child among the Carmelites in Paris. Moreover, Crashaw

was interesting as a recent convert to Catholicism. "Being a meer scholar

and very shiftless,"[313] he was quite destitute in the French capital when

he was found by Cowley, and he was delighted to accept Henrietta's

hospitality. He dwelt nearly a year at her Court, making many friends by

his talents and virtues, of whom the chief was Lady Denbigh. Her he

exhorted, not without success, to follow his religious example, and to her

he dedicated his book of poems, _Carmen Deo Nostro_, which was published

after he had passed on to the Court of Rome, bearing a letter of

introduction written to Innocent X by the Queen's own hand.[314] To the

exiled Court of England came also another poet, Sir William D'Avenant,

whose welcome was the warmer because he had been concerned in the army

plot. At the Louvre he wrote the dreary verses of _Gondibert_, and

dedicated them to Thomas Hobbes, that daring philosopher who had likewise

found a refuge in Paris, where, apart from the turmoils of England, he was

able to reflect upon those principles of government wherewith he startled

the world a few years later on the publication of _The Leviathan_. To these

literary refugees must be added English Catholic nobles, such as Lord

Montagu, and ladies of the same persuasion, among whom was prominent the

Dowager Countess of Banbury, a lady who, after a not irreproachable career

in England, had settled down in Paris to enjoy the reputation of a rich

_dévote_.

But no social pleasures and attentions could satisfy Henrietta, whose heart

was with her struggling husband. "There is nothing so certain as that I do

take all pains I can imaginable to procure you assistance, and am as

incapable of taking any delight or being pleased with my being here, though

I have all kinds of contentments, but as I hope it may enable me to send

you help."[315] These words, written to the King on November 18th, 1644,

were no idle sentiment; they are the truest epitome of her life in Paris.

The royal cause was balancing between hope and fear. The defeat of Marston

Moor, on July 2nd, 1644, had been indeed a terrible blow, but new hope was

infused into the party by the surrender of Essex in Cornwall, a victory

peculiarly grateful to the Queen, who could not forget the Earl's ungallant

conduct to her. The great need was men and money, and to procure these was

the end of Henrietta's unremitting efforts. For this she carried on

negotiations with the Prince of Orange, by means of an English Catholic

named Stephen Goffe, for the marriage of Prince Charles with his daughter;

for this she attempted to mortgage the tin mines of Cornwall; for this,

above all, she carried on personally and through Jermyn long and weary

negotiations with the Court of France.

France had not been unmindful of the difficulties of the King of England,

or of the troubles which threatened the Queen; but great caution was used,

and Gressy, who had shown too openly his partiality for the royal cause,

was replaced by Sabran, who knew better how to trim between the two

parties. It is probable that at the beginning of the struggle Mazarin

desired the victory of the King, and it is said that up to 1644 the French

Government gave as much as 300,000 crowns in money and munitions to aid

him.[316] A letter of Goring,[317] Henrietta's agent in France, dated at

the beginning of that year, which unfortunately fell into the hands of her

enemies, spoke of the dispatch of a considerable quantity of arms, and gave

a cheerful account of the kind words of the Queen-Regent and of Mazarin.

Charles himself thought that a little French money and a little French

influence would settle everything. His enemies were manifestly cast down,

not only by the death of Richelieu, but by the accounts which reached

London of the kind reception which had been given to the Queen. But,

nevertheless, Henrietta was to find disappointment here as elsewhere.

France was in no condition to give such help as would have sufficed for her

needs. The country was overtaxed, and though the new reign was brightened

by the éclat of the victory of Recroy, at which the young Duke of Enghien,

afterwards the great Condé, won his reputation, yet the war with Spain was

a terrible burden. Moreover, in spite of the assertions of the Queen-Regent

and her advisers that it was the means and not the will that was lacking,

there is little doubt that the French Government was beginning to see in

the English troubles a state of affairs highly satisfactory to itself.

Besides, Mazarin certainly inherited from Richelieu a distrust of Charles

and Henrietta. The Queen was specially distrusted. The English Catholics

had not quite forgotten her French birth, but it was believed in France

that they had inclined her to Spain, an opinion which was strengthened by

the fact that up to the time of her leaving England two of her principal

advisers were the Digbys, father and son,[318] who were well known to be

pro-Spanish in their sympathies. Mazarin was quite aware of Henrietta's

influence over her husband, and he hoped that her removal from his side

would help to turn Charles' eyes from Spain.

And there were other and more personal reasons for Mazarin's distrust of

the Queen of England. Henrietta, who was always too prone to believe that

good diplomacy consisted in cultivating relations with all parties at once,

allowed her ambassador Goring to meddle in the intrigues which grew up

round Mazarin as they had round Richelieu, a fact of which the Cardinal,

who had inherited a perfect system of espionage, was quite aware. By the

time Henrietta reached France the power of the Importants was broken, and

Madame de Chevreuse had again left the Court. The exiled Queen desired

greatly to see her old friend, and without pausing to consider how

imprudent was the appearance of any connection between herself and that

factious lady, she asked her sister-in-law's permission to have an

interview with the Duchess, permission which with all courtesy was refused,

at the instance of Mazarin. The Cardinal, moreover, caused the Queen of

England to be warned against others of her old friends, among whom may be

mentioned M. de Chateauneuf, who had indeed escaped public disgrace, but

who was known to be as inimical to Mazarin as ever he had been to

Richelieu.[319]

Thus it came about that, in spite of the kind words and occasional

assistance of the Queen-Regent and of Cardinal Mazarin,[320] Henrietta was

less successful than she had hoped to be, and could by no means persuade

Mazarin to an open breach with the Parliamentary party, whose strength he

was beginning to appreciate. "I have not found the means of engaging France

as forwardly in your interest as I expected," she wrote sadly to Charles.

In 1645 she was informed that all the French Government could do for her

was to permit her to make levies in the country (and she was so poor that

it was thought she would not take advantage of the permission), and to make

an appeal to the clergy of France on behalf of the necessities of the King

of England.

Of this last grace Henrietta availed herself eagerly; but of all the many

injudicious acts which she committed at this period of her life, this

appeal to the clergy of a race and of a faith alien to those of her

subjects was one of the most injudicious. The outburst of anti-Catholic

rage which she had witnessed in England ought to have taught her prudence;

but hers was not a mind to learn by experience. Moreover, she seems from

the outbreak of the war to have looked upon the Puritans as irreconcilables

who could only be subdued by force, and whom it was useless to attempt to

propitiate. She thought also, and most erroneously, that they were but a

small minority of the nation.

The Queen had recovered her spirits. Not only had Mazarin, in spite of his

official refusals, sent her secretly a sum of money sufficient to raise her

ever-ready hopes, but she expected great things from a growing friendship

with Emery, the Deputy Treasurer and one of the richest men in France. To

complete her satisfaction the clergy showed great sympathy with her, and

sent her, on their first assembling, a sum of money as an earnest of more

to come[321]; which money was immediately laid out in raising levies for

England.

The assembly of the French clergy, which was presided over by the

Cardinal-Archbishop of Lyons, the brother of the great Richelieu, met in

May, 1645, but it was not until the February of the following year that the

case of the Queen of England was seriously considered. Henrietta's advocate

on this occasion was probably the best that could have been chosen. The

Bishop of Angoulême during his sojourn in England had resisted in a really

praiseworthy manner those foreign influences which had corrupted some of

his fellow-countrymen who resided there, and he was perhaps regarded in

Paris with greater favour than any other of the Queen's servants. He was,

moreover, a speaker and preacher of repute, and the oration which he

delivered before the Fathers of the Church was not only a fine piece of

oratory, but was skilfully constructed to work as much as possible upon the

feelings of his audience.[322]

He dwelt upon the miserable condition of the Catholic Church in England,

which, before these troubles, had begun, after a century of persecution, to

raise its head under the protection of the Queen. He asserted (what was

true) that were the King forced to make terms with his foes, the Catholics

would be the scapegoat. He drew lurid word-pictures of the terrible

consequences to the Church throughout Europe should the impious rebels

succeed in their object of setting up a Puritan republic in England. Then

he turned to the even more powerful argument of self-interest. The

Huguenots, he said, who were beaten down but not destroyed, were looking

across the Channel to the Puritans of England, whose real design was the

destruction of the Catholic Church as well in France as in their own land.

To help forward this project of the Evil One large sums of money were being

dispatched by the French Protestants to aid the armies of rebellion in

England.[323]

"Res tua tunc agitur, paries cum proximus ardet,"

cried the good Bishop, hoping, not without reason, to arouse the fears of

his audience; for it was only twenty years since the fall of Rochelle, and

the revival of the power of the Huguenots, which it had required the strong

hand of Richelieu to repress, was an ever-present terror to the French

Catholics. But Du Perron was not content with such arguments. He was able

to make a statement which he hoped would tell much in favour of the cause

he was advocating. He declared that the King of England had promised in

writing to his wife that if he were restored by Catholic help he would

repeal every law against the Catholics on the statute book,[324] and the

Bishop added that he was at liberty to make this statement, as its purport

was already known to the Puritans through the interception of the King's

letter. That Charles made this promise there is no reason to doubt; that

had cause arisen he would have broken it, as he broke others, is in the

highest degree probable.[325] Perhaps the French bishops knew the man with

whom they had to deal, perhaps they were instructed by Mazarin, whom they

were too well trained not to consult. Be this as it may, the results of the

eloquence of the Bishop of Angoulême were disappointing, even though he

enforced his arguments by descriptions of the piteous condition of

Henrietta and of her children, "the grandsons, the nephews, and the cousins

of three of our Kings." The clergy of France did not feel able to offer to

the Queen of England more than a few thousand crowns, "a somme fitter to

buy hangings for a chamber than prosecute a war,"[326] as a newswriter of

the day said.

But disappointed as the Queen was, she quickly turned to other hopes and

schemes.

Ever since the Irish rebellion of 1641 Puritan scandal had linked

Henrietta's name with that of the rebels. The accusation as it stood was

ridiculous, but the Confederate Catholics,[327] as the Irish in arms called

themselves, certainly hoped something from the Catholic Queen, and in 1642

they presented to her a petition, in which they begged her "Hester-like

intercession to our most gracious Prince." They heard with sympathy of her

arrival in Paris, and again dispatched a letter to congratulate her on that

event.

She, on her side, regarded the Confederate Catholics as rebels in arms

against their lawful King; but she had a certain sympathy with them as the

victims of Puritan intolerance, and she thought, like her husband, that it

might be possible to turn their arms against worse enemies. With this end

in view she carried on negotiations with a certain Colonel FitzWilliams,

whom she found in Paris, and for the same purpose she cultivated the

acquaintance of the agent of the Confederate Catholics in that city, Father

O'Hartegan, the Jesuit.

This patriot, who was of a type not uncommon in his native land, was

greatly pleased at the notice of the Queen of England, whom he believed to

be on the point of starting for Ireland. He also thought, on account of

some slight attention shown to him by Mazarin,[328] that France, which up

till now had shown herself very cool to the necessities of the persecuted

Irish Catholics, and had even, by the mouth of the Cardinal, lectured them

on their lack of loyalty to their sovereign, was about to do her duty by

them. "What is needed," remarked the Jesuit modestly, "is 200,000 crowns

out of hand, with a good store of arms and ammunition, and promise of

yearly favour."

O'Hartegan had reason for his good spirits. His glib tongue recommended him

where he was not too well known, and he was caressed by the English

Catholics in Paris and by Jermyn, who was the more entirely satisfactory to

deal with, inasmuch as he had no religious scruples of any kind. Moreover,

the affairs of the Confederate Catholics were going very well in Rome.

When Henrietta had been but a short time in France, the news of two deaths

arrived, that of Elizabeth, Queen of Spain, and that of Maffeo Barberini,

Pope Urban VIII.

The Queen of England had long ceased to be in close touch with her

sister,[329] but it was thought that she would be greatly distressed at the

death of the Pope, for the Barberini had always been considered her

friends. But it may be that she was not altogether displeased. Any change

in the personnel of the European Courts meant a fresh chance for her

schemes; and though Urban had been kind enough to send her 25,000 crowns,

which she, or perhaps her husband, acknowledged from Oxford in 1643,[330]

yet he had shown himself somewhat callous to her larger claims, and it was

perhaps not unknown to her that Cardinal Francesco, in spite of his

often-repeated professions of friendship, had been the first foreign prince

to contribute to the necessities of the rebellious Confederate Catholics.

The new Pope, Innocent X, was believed to favour Spain as his predecessor

had favoured France, but Henrietta had not lived for nearly twenty years

among the English Catholics without having learned to consider this an

advantage rather than otherwise in religious negotiations. She determined

to send an envoy to Rome, ostensibly to congratulate the Pope upon his

accession, and O'Hartegan learned that her choice had fallen upon her old

friend Sir Kenelm Digby.

There are few more picturesque figures in the history of the time than that

of this gentleman: a scholar who was welcome among the learned of all

nations, a chemist who was half scientist, half charlatan, a naval

commander who had brought home stories even more remarkable than the

majority of travellers' tales, it is not surprising that he should have

attracted the attention of the Queen, who liked brilliant people. She may

perhaps also have been touched by the strange story of his love, which had

bound him in affectionate marriage to a woman who had been the acknowledged

mistress of another man. But she ought to have known better than to send

him to Rome. Not only was he a vain and undependable person--a teller of

strange tales, as even the courteous Evelyn described him--but the

religious vacillations and experiments which had made him unwelcome a few

years earlier to Urban VIII were not likely to commend him to Innocent X,

who would be less attracted by his learning and accomplishments than his

scholarly predecessor. The English Catholics in Paris who opposed the

appointment were wiser than could be understood by Henrietta; she added to

her mistake by permitting the envoy who was going to Rome on an

international mission, and who above all should have shown himself strictly

impartial between the rival factions of English Catholicism, to take upon

him before leaving Paris the charge of advancing at the Papal Court the

interests of the Chapter, which, after the banishment of the Bishop of

Chalcedon, claimed ecclesiastical authority in England, whose pretensions

were resolutely opposed by the regular and some even of the secular

clergy.[331]

And Sir Kenelm had hardly reached Rome when the need for help became more

pressing than ever, for the 14th of June of that same year was the day of

Naseby.

It was a crushing defeat, and after it the royal party never really

rallied. Henrietta, in her unconquerable hopefulness, thought that now, at

her extremity, France would come effectually to her aid; but Mazarin feared

to offend the Puritans more than he feared their dominance, and the old

weary round of intrigue was pursued with the same lack of result. Even an

offer from which the Queen hoped much, made to her by the Duke of Bouillon,

of raising troops for England round Cologne, came to nothing, because the

Cardinal believed that the real intention of Bouillon was to use these men

in the interests of Spain.

[Illustration: SIR KENELM DIGBY

FROM AN ENGRAVING AFTER THE PAINTING BY VAN DYCK]

And Naseby was more than a military defeat. On that fatal field, through

some misfortune or negligence, fell into the enemy's hand the papers of the

King.[332] Nothing more unfortunate could have occurred. The secrecy of

these letters, which were shortly published in London with choice comments,

was worth more to Charles and Henrietta than men or money. Their

publication betrayed the schemes in which the Queen had been spending her

strength for winning back England by foreign troops or by foreign gold. It

revealed how greatly the King was under the influence of his wife, and how

deeply she was compromised with the hated Irish. Most disastrous of all, it

showed how at the very time that he was promising to support the Protestant

religion and never to permit Catholicism, he was secretly giving her

authority to pledge his word for the complete toleration of the hated

religion. He stood revealed as what he was, a shifty and untrustworthy man.

After Naseby Charles was never trusted again.

Henrietta probably did not appreciate the magnitude of the disaster, and

she turned again cheerfully to the tortuous intrigues from which she hoped

so much.

At first it seemed as if Sir Kenelm Digby's mission would be successful.

The smaller Italian princes to whom he appealed he found indeed "a frugal

generation," but the Pope received him with great kindness, and appeared

charmed by his flow of persuasive eloquence and by the piety and

fascination of his manners. He even gave him an order for 20,000 crowns, to

be used in arms and munitions of war, which the Queen of England gratefully

acknowledged from S. Germain in September, 1645.[333] So far so good, but

neither she nor her agent knew the odds against which they were fighting.

Henrietta always believed that her husband's leniency to the Catholics

during his years of power had given him a claim upon the gratitude of the

whole Catholic world. She also knew better than any one else what the

hatred of the Puritans to her co-religionists really was, and what their

domination might mean. But at Rome matters were looked at in another light.

A certain interest was taken in Charles, and considerable sympathy was felt

for his unhappy wife; but neither were trusted. Henrietta was believed to

be guided by heretics, and even, through their influence, to have been in

the past "a powerful instrument for the destruction of the Catholics and of

the Catholic religion";[334] while Charles was disliked as a heretic, and

his failures to keep his word--his persecution of the Catholics in 1626,

his desertion of Strafford and the like--were reckoned up against him with

pitiless accuracy. As he had been in the past so no doubt would he be in

the future. It cannot be said that it was a misreading of Charles'

character which led the Pope and his advisers to think that he would have

taken the money of the Church and then thrown over the Catholics, if by

doing so he could further his own interests. And there were other and

better claimants in the case. Hopes at Rome were rising high with regard to

Ireland. Urban VIII, in 1628, had thought it would be a nice arrangement

for all concerned if that island were handed over to the Holy See. Innocent

X's designs were not quite so far-reaching, and he recommended loyalty to

the King of England; but he thought that it might be possible to coerce a

faithless and heretic Prince by means of the Confederate Catholics.

Moreover, that body, which had agents all over Europe, was fortunate enough

to have in Rome a representative as able and effective as Sir Kenelm Digby

was the reverse, in the person of Father Luke Wadding, of the Order of St.

Francis. This friar left Ireland when he was a boy of fifteen, and he never

saw again his native land; but throughout a long life which he spent

roaming about the Continent he preserved a fervid Hibernian patriotism, of

which the effects are felt to the present day.[335] At this time he was

living in Rome, and any slight feeling of loyalty to the King of England

which he may have once possessed had long ago been lost in the desire to

see his faith and his race triumph over the hated oppressor. It was he who

had prevailed upon Cardinal Francesco Barberini to send money to Ireland,

and though he had not been able to rouse the cautious Urban VIII to any

considerable effort,[336] he prepared with undiminished hope to use all his

influence to win over Innocent X, from whose Spanish sympathies he augured

the happiest results.

And indeed it was largely owing to the representations of this Irish friar

that, in the summer of 1645, while Sir Kenelm Digby was still fêted in

Rome, an envoy on his way from the Pope to the Confederate Catholics

appeared in Paris bearing a large sum of money, which the indefatigable

Wadding had amassed for the use of the faithful in his native land.

Giovanni Battista Rinuccini, Archbishop of Fermo, was a worthy ecclesiastic

of middle age. It is said that he was appointed to this delicate mission to

pleasure the Grand Duke of Tuscany, whose subject he was. He had, however,

a certain interest in the British Isles, because as a young man he had been

associated with a Scotch Capuchin, by name George Leslie, of whom he wrote

an edifying biography, which may be considered an early example of

religious romance.[337] Clarendon stigmatizes him as a "light-headed

envoy," but the epithet is hardly happy as applied to this stern, unbending

Churchman, whose unalterable determination it was that the money of the

Church should not be squandered to further the interests of a heretic

sovereign. In this respect, indeed, he followed with fidelity the

instructions given to him which dwelt upon the necessity of the strongest

guarantees of real benefit to the Catholics before money was advanced to

the King of England, and which altogether would have been instructive, if

not pleasant, reading for Charles and Henrietta.

The Queen was indeed already beginning to repent of her overtures to the

Confederate Catholics,[338] for in the early part of the year some letters

of O'Hartegan had fallen into the hands of the Roundheads, who caused them

to be printed. These letters spoke disrespectfully of her, and showed how

cheaply the Jesuit held the advantage of the King, so that Charles, who was

wont to feel great indignation at every one's self-seeking and shiftiness

except his own, wrote to his wife that the agent was "an arrant

knave."[339] Rinuccini's arrival in Paris made matters worse. Henrietta was

a Catholic, but she was a queen also, and it was an insult to which she

could not tamely submit that the Pope should send an envoy to those who,

after all, were rebels in arms against her husband. She wrote a dignified

letter of remonstrance to Innocent, and she refused to receive Rinuccini

except as a private person, a condition which the ambassador, one of whose

strongest characteristics was his personal vanity, declined to accept.

The poor Queen was indeed in a mesh from which there was no escape, and she

knew not how to carry out the task of so settling the affairs of Ireland

that the King might be able to draw troops therefrom. She desired to make

peace between Ormonde, her husband's Viceroy, and the Catholics, and her

difficulties were such as attend all persons who, being in authority, are

obliged to seek at one and the same time the help of representatives of

opposing interests. Rinuccini, seeing her under the influence of

Protestants, concluded, not unjustly on his own premises, that the duty of

the Holy Father was to turn a deaf ear to her entreaties for aid, and to

send such moneys as he could afford to the Confederate Catholics, whose

loyalty to the Holy See was not compromised by any inconvenient devotion to

a heretic Prince. Out in Rome Sir Kenelm was begging and praying for help,

unconscious of the fact that the envoy was warning the Pope against him,

and asserting, probably with some truth, that the rosy pictures which he

drew of the intentions of the King of England with regard to the Catholics

were greatly over-coloured. The Confederate Catholics in Ireland were

waiting eagerly for the coming of Rinuccini, and had little desire to help

the King of England, except in so far as such help would conduce to the

realization of their chief object, the emancipation of Ireland from the

hated foreigner.

Rinuccini, after a considerable delay in Paris, whence he wrote many

letters to Rome expressing his views with great frankness upon the Queen of

England and her advisers, pushed on to Ireland, where, far from making

peace with Ormonde or with any one else, he set everybody by the ears--not

a difficult task, it is true, in that island--and ended by excommunicating

most of the Confederate Catholics themselves. Steps were taken by some of

the victims to find out the opinion of the Sorbonne as to the validity of

this sweeping ecclesiastical censure.

Meanwhile, in Paris, Henrietta was dragging on her old life of intrigue and

disappointment. The presence at her side of Jermyn, whose great influence

over her was generally remarked,[340] was not in her favour, either with

the extreme Catholics, who disliked him as a heretic, or with the French,

who considered him, with justice, to be a man of mediocre ability, and who

were pleased to see that the Queen, in spite of her subservience, could

sometimes assert her will against his. The French Government was becoming

more and more afraid to provoke the Puritans, whom Mazarin feared to throw

into the arms of Spain. The defeat of Naseby, whose importance the Queen

and her friends vainly endeavoured to minimize, was followed by the hardly

less disastrous day of Philiphaugh, when Montrose was overwhelmed by an

army of the Covenant. Thus the year 1646 broke in gloom and despondency,

which were not lightened when a scheme of the Queen's for the invasion of

England by French troops was discovered by the interception of her

letters.[341] In the spring affairs had so far advanced that Charles, with

a confidence rendered pathetic by the event, gave himself up into the hands

of the Scots, the true compatriots of a Stuart King.

For a moment there seemed to be hope, and it is possible that Charles might

have recovered his crown had he been able to accept unreservedly the

Covenant. His refusal to give up the Church of England, which was one of

the most respectable acts of his life, brought upon him remonstrances,

entreaties, and almost anger from his wife, to whom all Protestants were

heretics alike. She even sent D'Avenant to him to represent her wishes on

the subject; but Charles, with a violence he did not often show, drove the

hapless poet from his presence with an intimation that he was never to

enter it again. Mazarin at this time seems to have desired the King's

restoration by means of an accommodation, though, owing to the ever-present

fear of Spain, he would not openly assist him. He could not repress his

scorn for the man who could throw away his crown for such a bagatelle as

the Church of England. In fact, he frankly owned that he could not

understand Charles. The latter had granted concessions which compromised

his kingly dignity; why make a fuss about a trifle which, nevertheless, if

conceded, might restore him to power? The Cardinal urged the French

ambassador in England to do all he could to bring the King to reason; but

the latter, who was becoming very sceptical as to the friendship of the

French,[342] was not likely to listen. The chance was lost, and Charles

soon found himself a prisoner in the hands of the English Presbyterians.

His countrymen, to whom in the days of his power he had shown favour not

always in accordance with his own interests, had sold him to his enemies.

Once again, a year later, there was a lifting of the clouds. In 1647 it

became evident that the Puritan party was growing weary of the Presbyterian

tyranny. As is commonly the case in revolutions, wilder and stronger

spirits were crowding out the more moderate reformers who had begun the

battle. The Independents, to whom in large measure the victories of Marston

Moor and Naseby were due, had control of the army, and the great figure of

Cromwell, which soon was to bestride England like a Colossus, was coming to

the front. In the late spring it seemed as if Charles and the Presbyterians

might come to terms. On June 4th a deputation from the army waited on the

King at Holmby House, where he was imprisoned, took possession of his

person, and carried him off to Newmarket.

The Independents showed great respect for their royal prisoner, and it

seemed as if they would be willing to make an accommodation with him.

Henrietta, in Paris, whither all news was quickly carried, thought with her

usual hopefulness that at last, at the darkest hour, the day was dawning.

There happened to be at her Court two gentlemen who seemed well fitted to

act as intermediaries between Charles and the Independents; one of them,

Sir John Denham, the bearer of a name which is still remembered in English

literature, had improved a sojourn in prison by making friends with that

worthy army chaplain Hugh Peters, who was closely connected with the

Independent leaders; the other, Sir Edward Ford, was Ireton's

brother-in-law. These two slipped across the Channel, and they were

permitted to see the King; but whether the Queen did not feel much

confidence in her envoys (and, indeed, Denham was a rash and headstrong man

who died insane), or whether her restlessness would not permit her to cease

from fresh attempts to improve her husband's position, she determined to

send another emissary of higher standing to intermeddle in this delicate

negotiation.

Just at this time Sir John Berkeley, who had distinguished himself during

the war as Governor of Exeter, was returning from Holland, whither he had

been to express the Queen's condolences on the death of the Prince of

Orange. He was almost unknown to Henrietta personally, but she was aware of

his reputation for loyalty and good sense, and she knew also perhaps that

he was regarded with respect by the enemy; he had hardly arrived at S.

Germain-en-Laye, where she was keeping her Court, when he accidentally fell

in with one of her servants, Lord Culpepper.

"You must prepare for another journey, Sir John," said the latter; "the

Queen designs to send you into England."

Berkeley, as is not surprising, was rather taken aback. England was the

last place to which he desired to go; he knew none of the Independent

leaders, and, as he justly remarked, it was a pity to send over too many of

the King's servants to share in the places and preferments which those

worthies hoped to keep for themselves; but Culpepper waived these

objections aside. "If you are afraid, Sir John," he said contemptuously,

"the Queen can easily find some one else to do her business."

No man of spirit could bear such an imputation. Berkeley, against his

better judgment, set off to add another to the long list of the Queen's

diplomatic failures.[343]

Another failure more personal and even more bitter was awaiting her.

In the first days of 1646 Sir Kenelm Digby appeared in Paris; he was

immediately received by the Queen, and "he got three hours' conference with

her and in end she seemed to be verie well pleased."[344] It appears that

he brought with him for the Queen's consideration and the King's

confirmation a document which he had drawn up in Rome and which had been

provisionally accepted by the Pope, though a copy had been sent to

Rinuccini for such emendations as he might think fit. By these articles

Innocent agreed, in return for the abolition of the Penal Laws in England

and the public establishment of Catholicism in Ireland, to make a grant,

100,000 crowns; but in his distrust of Charles he provided that the money

should not be paid to the Queen until the King had carried out the

provisions with regard to Ireland. It was further agreed that Irish troops

under Catholic leaders should be taken into the King's service in

England.[345]

It is hardly likely that either Charles or Henrietta relished these

articles, which showed plainly enough how deeply they were distrusted at

Rome, and which required so much before they could touch a penny of the

coveted money. Perhaps the King was indignant with Sir Kenelm for

suggesting such terms, for it was probably against his wishes that the

knight, after the failure of his negotiations, was again dispatched to Rome

in the autumn. He carried with him, however, the undiminished confidence of

the Queen,[346] and by October he was fixed at the Papal Court waiting for

the help which never came.

And, indeed, his chances of success were even slighter than before; he was,

it is true, the most accomplished cavalier of his time--"the Magazine of

all arts," as he was called. Distinguished foreigners who visited the

Eternal City came to see him, and went away quite fascinated by his stores

of learning and by his agreeable conversation; had he been dropped from the

clouds on to any part of the world he would have made himself respected,

said his admirers. Yes, retorted the Jesuits, who did not love him, but

then he must not remain above six weeks; the trouble was that he had been

in Rome a good deal more than six weeks. The Pope was tired of his endless

talk and was beginning to think that he was mad, which perhaps was not far

from the truth; his folly in mixing up matters of high policy concerning

the King and Queen of England with an affair of purely ecclesiastical

interest, such as the recognition of the Chapter, was commented on, and the

extraordinary bitterness which both he and his friends displayed towards

their opponents, among whom were the powerful religious Orders, was not in

his favour; his position was further injured by his intimacy with Thomas

White, a learned but eccentric priest then in Rome, who, afterward the

elaborator of a theory of government which, like that of Hobbes, was

believed to be a bid for the favour of Cromwell,[347] was already regarded

with suspicion by the orthodox as unsound both in theology and philosophy;

finally, the envoy suffered by the absence of Francesco Barberini, who had

withdrawn from Rome. The Cardinal had not, it is true, been a very faithful

friend[348] to the Queen of England, but in spite of occasional lapses he

felt a certain interest in English affairs which might have counteracted in

some measure the Irish influence brought to bear upon the Pope. Nor was it

only Sir Kenelm who was out of favour; his cousin George Digby, through

whose hands passed the negotiations of the King and Queen with the Irish,

was industriously misrepresented by Rinuccini, while there were those who

did not scruple to insinuate that the Queen required money for her private

purposes, and that Jermyn, the heretic Jermyn, would have the spending of

it. So greatly was the Pope influenced by these scandals that even those

who favoured Henrietta and who would gladly have seen the Holy See unite

with France to restore the King of England thought that Digby's best policy

would be to plead for a grant of money for Ireland; but this course was

prevented by the extraordinary conduct of Rinuccini, which has been already

referred to, and which caused great wrath in the school of Catholics to

which Digby belonged. It would be well, wrote White bitterly to Sir Kenelm,

if the Pope could send into Ireland "such orders, or rather such a man,

that may conserve the peace and seek more after the substance than after

the outside of religion."[349]

Thus affairs stood in Rome at the crisis of 1647.

As early as 1645 it was believed that the Queen was inclined towards the

Independents through the influence of Henry Percy and of Father Philip, who

were suspected of communication with the leaders of that party;[350] in

matters of religion they were less rigid than the Presbyterians; they

possessed some glimmering of the idea of toleration, and they even showed

some disposition to favour the Catholics. When in 1647 they gained the

upper hand, Henrietta believed that the moment had come at last when the

Catholics would be able to hold the balance between the King, the

Presbyterians, and the Independents, and with the favour of the latter to

win the long-hoped-for liberty of conscience, carrying with it the repeal

of the penal laws. Never, it was thought, had the Catholics had such a

chance since the days of Mary. Charles, characteristically, wished to keep

out of sight in the negotiations. "You must know," wrote an English

Catholic to Sir Kenelm Digby in August, 1647, "at last not only the

Independents, but the King himself do give us solid hopes of a liberty of

conscience for Catholics in England in case we can but gain security that

our subjection to the Pope shall bring no prejudice to our allegiance

towards his Majesty or that state; it is true the King will not appear in

it, but would have the army make it their request unto him; and so I

understand he hath advised the Catholics to treat with the army about it,

and the business will be to frame an oath of allegiance."[351]

The Catholics carried on negotiations with Sir Thomas Fairfax;[352] the

rationale of the penal laws had always been the suspicion that the

recusants held opinions subversive of the State and indeed of all social

life, and it was to overcome this difficulty that Three Propositions were

drawn up by the Catholics "importing that the Pope and Church had no power

to absolve from obedience to civil government or dispense with word or oath

made to heretics or authorize to injure other men upon pretence of them

being excommunicated."[353] It was intimated that if the Catholics, by

subscribing these opinions, could "vindicate these principles from

inconsistency with civil government,"[354] the penal laws would be repealed

and liberty of conscience granted.[355]

It is no wonder that the English Catholics were in high spirits. The more

moderate of them who were weary of being considered bad subjects for

principles which they did not hold were glad to testify their loyalty not

only to the Independents, but to the King, who had always been suspicious

of it; a large number of Catholics came forward to sign the negative of the

Three Propositions,[356] among whom were members of the religious Orders,

even of the Society of Jesus, and well-known laymen, such as the Marquis of

Winchester, whose defence of Basing House had won the admiration of the

whole Royalist party, and Walter Montagu, who, though he was still in

prison, was allowed to intermix in the negotiation.

Out in Paris the Queen, who had spent her life trying to persuade her

husband of the unimpeachable loyalty of her co-religionists, was doing her

part. In July, even before the Three Propositions were drawn up, she put

further pressure upon Rome for aid; there were men, there were munitions,

all that was needed was money; surely in such a crisis to gain all that was

at stake the Holy Father would supply it. She sent her instructions to

Digby and waited in hope.

Sir Kenelm pressed with all his eloquence the needs of the Catholics and

their great opportunity. Perhaps the Pope was a little overwhelmed by his

flow of words, for he requested him to put his arguments on paper; Digby,

nothing loath, drew up memorials, of which the burden was always the need

of money to enable the Catholics to take an influential part in the

settlement which was believed to be pending. He descanted upon the hopes

raised by the unexpected revolt of the Independents, who wished to destroy

the Presbyterians and to favour the Catholics. The latter were exhausted by

years of war and persecution, but if the Holy Father would only show a

timely liberality they could so intervene as to bring about not only their

own salvation, but that of their co-religionists in Ireland, thus saving

the Pope the great expenses he was incurring on behalf of the Confederate

Catholics. Moreover, by such conduct he would give proof that by sending

Rinuccini to Ireland he had had no desire but the good of religion; if he

refused the Queen's request, added Digby impressively, it would mean the

ruin of religion, both in England and Ireland.

Innocent may have given some attention to Digby's arguments, but probably

at no time did he think of acting upon them. The reputation of the envoy,

which was not improved by his disrespectful, if just, criticisms of the

methods of the Papal Court, told heavily against his requests. Moreover,

the Queen herself was little trusted, particularly in Irish affairs, for

she was believed to put the interests of her husband above those of

religion, and to favour unduly Lord Ormonde, to whom (in the vain hope of

bringing about an accommodation between him and the Confederates) she had

recently sent an agent, by name George Leybourn,[357] who, though a

Catholic priest, belonged to a very different school of thought from that

of the fierce Rinuccini. Besides, the recent events in England were

prejudicial to Henrietta's interests in Rome.

The negotiation of the Three Propositions was considered a private matter,

but it came to the ears of the Pope. Innocent probably was aware that it

was to a great extent managed by a section of the secular clergy, who,

perhaps from their close connection with the intellectual society of Paris,

held Gallican views of so extreme a type that they would gladly have

settled the matter without reference to Rome, and who saw in the whole

affair a nice opportunity of getting rid of their enemies the Jesuits, whom

they thoughtfully suggested should be excluded from the general toleration;

indeed, one of the chief supporters of the scheme was a priest named

Holden, who was a great friend of Sir Kenelm Digby and Thomas White, and

who had long been noted for the extravagance of his opinions.[358] This

gentleman, now resident in Paris, wrote encouraging letters to his

co-religionists in England, assuring them that their attitude on the

questions raised by the Three Propositions was that of all the learned and

judicious men of France. It is true that some of the more timid English

Catholics, notwithstanding such encouragement, became alarmed, and wrote an

exculpatory letter to the Holy Father, in which they informed him that the

denial they had given to the Three Propositions was "in, the negative to

theyr affirmative who presented them unto us, not absolutely in theyr

negative, for that had indeed intruded further upon the Pope's authority

than the subscribers were willing to doe."[359] But even such refinements

could not save the conduct of the English Catholics from condemnation at

Rome, where the deposing power was not so lightly to be parted with. Thus

it is not surprising that Henrietta waited for a reply from the Pope with

the heart-sickness of hope deferred. She did not know, what had long been

confessed among the initiated, that the Holy Father's chief object was the

success of the Confederate Catholics,[360] to whom in the spring of that

same year he had sent, together with his paternal benediction, the sum of

50,000 crowns. In September she took up her ever-ready pen and wrote

herself to Innocent, a sad letter, in which she speaks of her devotion to

the Catholic faith, and of the good intentions which had not been seconded

as they should have been. It is not known whether the Pope replied to these

reproaches, but a month later he received Sir Kenelm Digby once again,

though he was probably aware of the fact that that gentleman was

hand-in-glove with those whom he had censured in England.

That gentleman's temper had not been improved by his long trials; the last

memorial[361] which he drew up, which was to a great length, is extremely

acrid in tone. It dwells with justice upon the services which the Queen had

rendered to the Catholic Church, upon the fair hopes which had been

blighted by the war. It speaks of the ill reception accorded to her

friends--among whom are mentioned Richard Crashaw and Patrick Cary, the

brother of Lord Falkland--at the Papal Court. Finally, it dwells with

particular and not unmerited bitterness upon the conduct of Rinuccini, who,

it was believed, had a secret commission to separate Ireland from England.

It happened that just about the time of the presentation of this memorial

the hopes of toleration for the Catholics in England disappeared as

suddenly as they had arisen, for the two Houses of Parliament voted that

religious liberty should not extend to the toleration of Papists;[362] but

even had this untoward incident not occurred, Digby can hardly have

expected much from the Pope. The answer came at last in March, 1648, and it

was cold and decisive. The Holy Father would have liked to help the Queen

of England, but seeing no hope of the success of the Catholics, he felt

that he could not indulge his inclination.[363] Sir Kenelm shook the dust

of Rome off his feet and left it more convinced than ever of what he had

written a year previously, that no one could succeed at the Papal Court

without money and influence, and that "piety, honour, generosity, devotion,

zeal for the Catholic faith and for the service of God, with all other

vertues, heroic and theological,"[364] were banished thence. Henrietta

would perhaps hardly have endorsed this comprehensive indictment; but she

was bitterly disappointed, and she was incapable of perceiving that from

his own point of view Innocent was right in refusing money, of which such

Catholics as Sir Kenelm Digby[365] and his friends would have had the

spending. On larger principles also the papal policy was justified. The

idea of founding a solid toleration for Catholics upon the basis of a union

of the King and the Independents was chimerical, for those among the

Puritans who favoured the scheme were but a small minority of advanced

views, and even they, it seems, soon repented of their liberality. Even had

Charles been trustworthy (and in this, as in other cases, he paid the

penalty of his incurable shiftiness), the anti-Catholic feeling of the

nation, which had been one of the chief causes of the war, would never have

permitted the antedating by more than a century of the repeal of the penal

laws, and had the guarantees been given they would assuredly have been

broken. With regard to Ireland, the Queen is perhaps less to be blamed. She

knew that the Confederate Catholics hoped much from her, and she could not

know that Rinuccini, the envoy of the Holy Father, was using all his

influence against her, or fathom the depth of the malice which led him to

write that "from the Queen of England we must hope nothing except

propositions hurtful to religion, since she is entirely in the hands of

Jermyn, Digby, and other heretics."[366]

* * * * *

"He perished for lack of knowing the truth," said Henrietta once of her

husband, with a flash of insight not often given to her. That which was

true of Charles was true of her also; she was her father's daughter, and

she desired to know the truth, and she was accustomed to say that the chief

need of princes was faithful counsellors who would declare it to them; but

to such knowledge she could not reach. Her schemes, with all their

ingenuity, failed one after another because she was unable to grasp the

conditions in which she worked, or to read the motives and characters of

the people with whom she had to deal. She lived in a world of unreality

built up of the love which she bore to her husband, which made her as

unable to understand that the restoration of Charles Stuart to the throne

he had lost was not the main object of the diplomacy of Europe, as she was

to appreciate the fact that such negotiations as those which she, the Queen

of a Protestant country, carried on with the Pope and the Catholics of

Europe were more fatal to him than the swords or the malice of his enemies.

[Footnote 308: Loret: _La Muse Historique_ (1859), t. II, p. 393.]

[Footnote 309: One of them was René Chartier, an elderly man, who had

attended several members of the royal family; he was the translator of

Galen and Hippocrates. G. Patin: _Lettres._]

[Footnote 310: Green: _Letters of Queen Henrietta Maria_, p. 253.]

[Footnote 311: Birchley: _Christian Moderator_ (1652), p. 20.]

[Footnote 312: In 1642 the Queen accepted the dedication of _The Flaming

Heart, or the Life of the Glorious S. Teresa_, published at Antwerp; it is

a translation of the saint's autobiography.]

[Footnote 313: A. à Wood: _Fasti Oxonienses_ (1691), II, p. 688.]

[Footnote 314: See Appendix VII.]

[Footnote 315: Green: _Letters of Queen Henrietta Maria_, p. 264.]

[Footnote 316: Sabran Negotiations, Add. MS., 5460.]

[Footnote 317: This letter is found _in extenso_. MS. Dupuy, 642.]

[Footnote 318: The Earl of Bristol and George, Lord Digby.]

[Footnote 319: The relations between Henrietta and Goring, on the one hand,

and the discontented French on the other, are mentioned in the _Carnets de

Mazarin_, published in V. Cousin: _Mme de Chevreuse._]

[Footnote 320: Mazarin, in a letter of 1651, speaks of "plus de trois mille

livres prestées à la reyne d'Angleterre des occasions où elle étoit reduite

en grandes necessitez."--Chéruel: _Lettres de Mazarin_, IV, p. 221.]

[Footnote 321: 1,500,000 francs is the sum named in the letter from Paris

read in the English Parliament in January, 1646 (Tanner MS., LX); this

present is not mentioned in the official account of the assembly of clergy,

and it is possible that the writer of the above letter listened to a

baseless rumour and that no such gift was made at the time.]

[Footnote 322: The official report of this speech is in the "Proces Verbal

de l'assemblée du clergé, 1645"; the only copy which the present writer has

seen is in the _Bibliothèque Magasin_ in Paris. The Roundheads printed a

translation of the speech (with comments) in pamphlet form, entitled: "A

warning to the Parliament of England. A discovery of the ends and designs

of the Popish party both abroad and at home in the raising and fomenting

our late war and still continuing troubles. In an oration made to the

general assembly of the French clergy in Paris by Mons. Jacques du Perron,

Bishop of Angoulesme and Grand Almoner to the Queen of England. Translated

out of an MS. copy obtained from a good hand in France. 1647."]

[Footnote 323: This was denied by the Roundheads. See "A warning to the

Parliament of England," etc.; but it was apparently generally believed in

France. See Sabran Neg., Add. MS., 5460.]

[Footnote 324: Document VI in the Appendix seems to refer to the

negotiations between the King and the Catholics at this time.]

[Footnote 325: The King's letter to the Queen was one of those taken at

Naseby and published in _The King's Cabinet Opened_. The passage runs thus:

"I have thought of one means more to furnish thee with for my assistance

than hitherto thou hast had. It is that I give thee power to promise in my

name to whom thou thinkest most fit that I will take away all the penal

laws against the Roman Catholics in England as soon as God shall enable me

to do it, so as by their means, or in their favours, I may have so powerful

assistance as may deserve so great a favour and enable me to do it." Du

Perron's reference to this letter proves that it was not a forgery of the

Puritans.

In a letter from Paris "presented by Mr. Speaker," January 29th, 164-5/6,

is the following passage: "For these causes and further help (iff need

shall be) the queene has obliged herselff solemnlie that the King shall

establishe frie liberty of conscience in all his three kingdomes, and shall

abolishe utterlie all penal statutes made by Queene Elizabeth and King

James of glorious memorie against Poperie and papists."--Tanner MS., LX.]

[Footnote 326: _Moderate Intelligencer_, July, 1646. "The clergy conveaned

in favour of her Majesty of England's designs finding that there was little

hopes to bring about at present either the recovery or increase of the

Catholic religion and so to no end to advance monies unless to exasperate

and bring ruin upon those of the Roman religion there, have agreed to give

and directed to be presented unto her some few thousands of crowns, a somme

fitter to buy hangings for a chamber than prosecute a war: are risen and

have dismissed this assembly."]

[Footnote 327: The Confederate Catholics were a body formed after the Irish

rebellion of 1641; there were at this time (1645) three parties in Ireland,

the Confederate Catholics, the Protestants--whose army was commanded by

Ormonde, the King's Viceroy--and the Puritans: the two former, though

nominally enemies, had a common ground in their hatred of the latter.]

[Footnote 328: O'Hartegan records with great glee that while he was

received in audience by Mazarin and even invited to dine in his palace,

Jermyn, "His Holiness, His Nuntius," and other ambassadors, were unable to

obtain an audience even after many days' solicitation. Mazarin's real

object was to prevent the Confederate Catholics from "casting themselves

wholly into the armes of the King of Spain." Tanner MS., LX.]

[Footnote 329: As early as 1635 she said that she had not corresponded with

Elizabeth for ten years, as the latter said she could not write freely.

Aff. Etran. Ang., t. 45.]

[Footnote 330: See Appendix V.]

[Footnote 331: It is said that Bishop Smith, who was still alive, was

opposed to Sir Kenelm Digby's undertaking this mission, but was overborne.]

[Footnote 332: The same misfortune occurred a few months later when George

Digby was defeated at Sherborne (October, 1645) and his correspondence,

much of which concerned the intrigues of the King and Queen, fell into the

hands of the enemy, and was afterwards read in Parliament; and again at

Sligo (October, 1645), when the Glamorgan Treaty was found in the coach of

the Archbishop of Tuam.]

[Footnote 333: In this letter the Queen thanks the Pope for "des armes et

munitions de guerre qu'elle a fourni, de la promesse qu'elle m'a donné

d'une nouvelle assistance d'argent et de la restitution des pensions à ceux

de la nation écossaise tant à Rome qu'à Avignon."--P.R.O. Roman

Transcripts.]

[Footnote 334: Rinuccini: _Embassy in Ireland_, p. lviii.]

[Footnote 335: He was the founder of S. Isidore's College in Rome.]

[Footnote 336: Nevertheless in 1642 Urban sent an agent by name Scarampi to

Ireland at the request of Cardinal Francesco Barberini.]

[Footnote 337: _Il Cappuccino Scozzese_ (1644). Before the end of the

seventeenth century it was translated into French, Spanish, and Portuguese,

during the eighteenth century into English.]

[Footnote 338: Her husband warned her in January, 1645, not to give "much

countenance to the Irish agents in Paris."--_King's Cabinet Opened_. She

replied, "That troubles me much, for I fear that you have no intention of

making a peace with them [the Irish] which is ruinous for you and for

me."--Green: _Letters of Queen Henrietta Maria_, p. 290. February 28th,

164-4/5.]

[Footnote 339: _King's Cabinet Opened._]

[Footnote 340: "... D. Baro Germanus qui in maxima apud Reginam Angliae

gratia nec minore quam Cardinalis Mazarinus apud Reginam

Galliae."--Grotius: _Epistolae ineditae_ (1806), p. 71.]

[Footnote 341: There is little doubt that Henrietta would have been willing

to cede to France the Channel Islands, the last remains of the great

heritage of the Conqueror, in return for help.]

[Footnote 342: See _Letters of Charles I to Henrietta Maria in 1646_, ed.

Bruce. Camden Society.]

[Footnote 343: This is Berkeley's own account taken from his memoirs.

Clarendon's is very different, and says that Berkeley was a vain man who

was delighted to undertake the mission.]

[Footnote 344: Tanner MS., LX.]

[Footnote 345: These articles are published among the documents at the end

of Rinuccini's _Embassy in Ireland_, p. 573; among the Roman Transcripts

P.R.O. are very similar articles endorsed "in the handwriting of Sir Kenelm

Digby." They are among the papers of 1647, and very possibly belong to the

later date.]

[Footnote 346: In May, 1647, the Queen wrote to the Pope asking him not to

receive communications from unauthorized persons who approached him in her

name, but only from Digby. P.R.O. Roman Transcripts.]

[Footnote 347: "The grounds of obedience and government by Thomas White,

gentleman (1635), dedicated 'to my most honoured and best friend Sir Kenelm

Digby.'" White knew Hobbes, but his political theory is rather an

anticipation of that of Locke and the eighteenth-century Whigs.]

[Footnote 348: Later it was even believed that he was favourable to the

Roundheads. An English gentleman who was in Rome in 1650 complained of his

discourtesy, "who was the English (I say rebels') Protector."--John

Bargrave: _Pope Alexander VII and the College of Cardinals_.]

[Footnote 349: _Blacklo's Cabal Discovered_, p. 6. This curious book, which

was published in 1679, consists of a collection of letters which throws

much light upon Sir Kenelm Digby's mission and the events of 1647.]

[Footnote 350: The writer of an unsigned letter in the Bibliothèque

Nationale in Paris says that he was charged "de representer à la serieuse

consideration de la Reyne et de Mgr. le Cardinal le trois que prennent les

Independants qui va à la ruine totale du Roy et des siens et directement à

charger le gouvernement et combien cela regarde la France; que les chefs de

cette faction sont le Comte de Northumberland My lord Saye et les deux

Vaines qui font agir auprès de notre Roy et au dela auprès de notre Reyne

par My lord Percy et autres qui ont toutes leurs confidence au Père

Philipes; ceux la ont contre eux tous les Escossais et les meuilleurs

Anglois si bien que si notre Reyne ne veut recevoir et assister ces bons

Anglois et les Escossais il se trouvera quelle fera bien de ne penser plus

a repasser en Angleterre."--MS. Français, 15,994.]

[Footnote 351: _Blacklo's Cabal Discovered_, p. 21; the suggested oath is

printed, p. 49.]

[Footnote 352: These negotiations were of the nature of a private

understanding based on the twelfth article of the Heads of the Proposals

offered by the army, which provided for "the repeal of all Acts or clauses

in any Act enjoining the use of the Book of Common Prayer, and imposing any

penalties for neglect thereof; as also of all Acts or clauses of any Act

imposing any penalty for not coming to Church or for meetings elsewhere for

prayer or other religious duties, exercises or ordinances and some other

provision to be made for discovery of Papists and Popish recusants and for

disabling of them and of all Jesuits or Priests found disturbing the

State."--Gardiner: _Constitutional Documents of the Puritan Revolution_, p.

321.]

[Footnote 353: "The controversial Letter on the great controversie

concerning the pretended temporal authority of Popes over the whole earth.

1673."]

[Footnote 354: _Ibid._]

[Footnote 355: The Three Propositions were printed several times in the

latter half of the seventeenth century, among other places (together with

the suggested oath of allegiance) in _Blacklo's Cabal Discovered_. There

are several MS. copies among the archives of the See of Westminster, at the

end of one of which it is said that it was signed by fifty Catholic nobles,

but was condemned by the Congregation at Rome. See Appendix VIII.]

[Footnote 356: The Three Propositions are statements of the opinions

objected to, and which the Catholics were required to subscribe in the

negative.]

[Footnote 357: He travelled under the pseudonym of Winter Grant. He was an

old friend of the Queen, having been her chaplain before the war; he had

been a friend of Father Philip. His own memoirs give the best account of

his unsuccessful mission.]

[Footnote 358: Con, years earlier, in one of his letters from England,

writes of Holden's extravagant opinions.]

[Footnote 359: Archives of the See of Westminster. It seems that the

censure was of a private nature; it is printed in Jouvency: "Receuil de

pièces touchant l'histoire de la Compagnie de Jésus" (1713), where it is

ascribed to the influence of the Jesuits.]

[Footnote 360: Those less sanguine than Henrietta had long known this; "the

Pope cannot doe much, all he can is promised for Ireland," occurs in a

letter of the beginning of 1646 from Robert Wright to "Mr. Jones of the

Commons." Tanner MS., LX.]

[Footnote 361: Among the Roman Transcripts in the P.R.O. are five memorials

drawn up by Sir Kenelm Digby, dated respectively July 14th, July 26th,

August 3rd, August 12th, and October 20th, 1647. Of the latter there is a

duplicate dated 1648 among the Chigi Transcripts (P.R.O.), and there is an

old English translation among the archives of the See of Westminster.]

[Footnote 362: Whitelocke: _Memorials of English Affairs_, p. 274.]

[Footnote 363: P.R.O. Roman Transcripts.]

[Footnote 364: Digby to Barberini, April 28th, 1647. P.R.O. Roman

Transcripts.]

[Footnote 365: Sir Kenelm Digby somewhat later entered into negotiations

with Cromwell in the hope of obtaining toleration for the Catholics.

Henrietta Maria (if a story, which on the authority of Cosin found its way

into a letter written from Paris, may be believed) grew suspicious at last

of the man she had trusted so long; one of his friends was telling her of

his arrival in Paris, "but she suddenly interrupted him as he was

commending the knight and said openly in the hall, 'Mr. K. Digby, c'est un

grand cochin [knave].'" Tanner MS., 149. George Davenport to W. Sancroft,

Paris, January 15th, 165-6/7. Sir Kenelm died in 1665.]

[Footnote 366: Rinuccini: _Embassy in Ireland_, p. 367. Digby is George

Digby, afterwards the second Earl of Bristol; he became a Catholic in later

days, but Rinuccini seems to have disliked him rather more after his

conversion than before.]

Henrietta Maria · 第 9 / 12 章