‘P’raps he was my father--though on this subjict I can’t speak suttinly,
for my ma wrapped up my buth in a mistry. I may be illygitmit, I may
have been changed at nuss.’
In these strange words does Mr. Thackeray’s Jeames de la Pluche
anticipate the historical mystery of James de la Cloche. HIS ‘buth’ is
‘wrapped up in a mistry,’ HIS ‘ma’ is a theme of doubtful speculation;
his father (to all appearance) was Charles II. We know not whether James
de la Cloche--rejecting the gaudy lure of three crowns--lived and died
a saintly Jesuit; or whether, on the other hand, he married beneath him,
was thrown into gaol, was sentenced to a public whipping, was pardoned
and released, and died at the age of twenty-three, full of swaggering
and impenitent impudence. Was there but one James de la Cloche, a scion
of the noblest of European royal lines? Did he, after professions of a
holy vocation, suddenly assume the most secular of characters, jilting
Poverty and Obedience for an earthly bride? Or was the person who
appears to have acted in this unworthy manner a mere impostor, who had
stolen James’s money and jewels and royal name? If so, what became of
the genuine and saintly James de la Cloche? He is never heard of any
more, whether because he assumed an ecclesiastical alias, or because
he was effectually silenced by the person who took his character, name,
money, and parentage.
There are two factions in the dispute about de la Cloche. The former
(including the late Lord Acton and Father Boero) believe that James
adhered to his sacred vocation, while the second James was a rank
impostor. The other party holds that the frivolous and secular James
was merely the original James, who suddenly abandoned his vocation, and
burst on the world as a gay cavalier, and claimant of the rank of
Prince of Wales, or, at least, of the revenues and perquisites of that
position.
The first act in the drama was discovered by Father Boero, who printed
the documents as to James de la Cloche in his ‘History of the Conversion
to the Catholic Church of Charles II., King of England,’ in the sixth
and seventh volumes, fifth series, of La Civilta Cattolica (Rome, 1863).
(The essays can be procured in a separate brochure.) Father Boero says
not a word about the second and secular James, calling himself ‘Giacopo
Stuardo.’ But the learned father had communicated the papers about de la
Cloche to Lord Acton, who wrote an article on the subject, ‘The Secret
History of Charles II.,’ in ‘The Home and Foreign Review,’ July 1862.
Lord Acton now added the story of the second James, or of the second
avatar of the first James, from State Papers in our Record Office. The
documents as to de la Cloche are among the MSS. of the Society of Jesus
at Rome.
The purpose of Father Boero was not to elucidate a romance in royal
life, but to prove that Charles II. had, for many years, been sincerely
inclined to the Catholic creed, though thwarted by his often expressed
disinclination to ‘go on his travels again.’ In point of fact, the
religion of Charles II. might probably be stated in a celebrated figure
of Pascal’s. Let it be granted that reason can discover nothing as to
the existence of any ground for religion. Let it be granted that we
cannot know whether there is a God or not. Yet either there is, or there
is not. It is even betting, heads or tails, croix ou pile. This being
so, it is wiser to bet that there is a God. It is safer. If you lose,
you are just where you were, except for the pleasures which you desert.
If you win, you win everything! What you stake is finite, a little
pleasure; if you win, you win infinite bliss.
So far Charles was prepared theoretically to go but he would not abandon
his diversions. A God there is, but ‘He’s a good fellow, and ‘twill all
be well.’ God would never punish a man, he told Burnet, for taking ‘a
little irregular pleasure.’ Further, Charles saw that, if bet he
must, the safest religion to back was that of Catholicism. Thereby he
could--it was even betting--actually ensure his salvation. But if he put
on his money publicly, if he professed Catholicism, he certainly lost
his kingdoms. Consequently he tried to be a crypto-Catholic, but he was
not permitted to practise one creed and profess another. THAT the Pope
would not stand. So it was on his death-bed that he made his desperate
plunge, and went, it must be said, bravely, on the darkling voyage.
Not to dwell on Charles’s earlier dalliances with Rome, in November
1665, his kinsman, Ludovick Stewart, Sieur d’Aubigny, of the
Scoto-French Lennox Stewarts, was made a cardinal, and then died.
Charles had now no man whom he could implicitly trust in his efforts to
become formally, but secretly, a Catholic. And now James de la Cloche
comes on the scene. Father Boero publishes, from the Jesuit archives, a
strange paper, purporting to be written and signed by the King’s
hand, and sealed with his private seal, that diamond seal, whereof the
impression brought such joy to the soul of the disgraced Archbishop
Sharp. Father Boero attests the authenticity of seal and handwriting. In
this paper, Charles acknowledges his paternity of James Stuart, ‘who,
by our command, has hitherto lived in France and other countries under a
feigned name.’ He has come to London, and is to bear the name of ‘de
la Cloche du Bourg de Jarsey.’ De la Cloche is not to produce this
document, ‘written in his own language’ (French), till after the King’s
death. (It is important to note that James de la Cloche seems to have
spoken no language except French.) The paper is dated ‘Whitehall,
September 27, 1665,’ when, as Lord Acton observes, the Court, during the
Plague, was NOT at Whitehall.*
*Civ. Catt. Series V., vol. vi. 710. Home and Foreign Review, vol.
i. 156.
Lord Acton conjectured that the name ‘de la Cloche’ was taken from
that of a Protestant minister in Jersey (circ. 1646). This is the more
probable, as Charles later invented a false history of his son, who was
to be described as the son of ‘a rich preacher, deceased.’ The surname,
de la Cloche, had really been that of a preacher in Jersey, and survives
in Jersey.
After 1665, James de la Cloche was pursuing his studies in Holland,
being at this time a Protestant. Conceivably he had been brought up in a
French Huguenot family, like that of the de Rohan. On February 7, 1667,
Charles wrote a new document. In this he grants to de la Cloche 500
pounds a year, while he lives in London and adheres to ‘the religion of
his father and the Anglican service book.’ But, in that very year (July
29, 1667), de la Cloche went to Hamburg, and was there received into the
Catholic Church, forfeiting his pension.
Christina of Sweden was then residing in Hamburg. De la Cloche apprised
her of his real position--a son of the King of England--and must have
shown her in proof Charles’s two letters of 1665 and 1667. If so--and
how else could he prove his birth?--he broke faith with Charles, but,
apparently, he did not mean to use Charles’s letters as proof of his
origin when applying, as he did, for admission to the novitiate of the
Jesuits at Rome. He obtained from Christina a statement, in Latin, that
Charles had acknowledged him, privately, to her, as his son. This note
of Christina’s, de la Cloche was to show to his director at Rome.
It does not appear that Charles had ever told Christina a word about
the matter. These pious monarchs were far from being veracious. However,
Christina’s document would save the young man much trouble, on the point
of his illegitimacy, when, on April 11, 1668, he entered St. Andrea al
Quirinale as a Jesuit novice. He came in poverty. His wardrobe was of
the scantiest. He had two shirts, a chamois leather chest protector,
three collars, and three pairs of sleeves. He described himself as
‘Jacques de la Cloche, of Jersey, British subject,’ and falsely, or
ignorantly, stated his age as twenty-four. Really he was twenty-two.*
Why he told Christina his secret, why he let her say that Charles had
told her, we do not know. It may be that the General of the Jesuits,
Oliva, did not yet know who de la Cloche really was. Meanwhile,
his religious vocation led him to forfeit 500 pounds yearly, and
expectations, and to disobey his father and king.
*Civ. Catt., ut supra, 712, 713, and notes.
The good King took all very easily. On August 3, 1668, he wrote a longa
et verbosa epistola, from Whitehall, to the General of the Jesuits. His
face was now set towards the secret treaty of Dover and conversion. The
conversion of his son, therefore, seemed truly providential. Charles
had discussed it with his own mother and his wife. To Oliva he wrote
in French, explaining that his Latin was ‘poor,’ and that, if he wrote
English, an interpreter would be needed, but that no Englishman was to
‘put his nose’ into this affair. He had long prayed God to give him
a safe and secret chance of conversion, but he could not use, without
exciting suspicion, the priests then in England. On the other hand, his
son would do: the young cavalier then at Rome, named de la Cloche de
Jersey. This lad was the pledge of an early love for ‘a young lady of a
family among the most distinguished in our kingdoms.’ He was a child of
the King’s ‘earliest youth,’ that is, during his residence in Jersey,
March-June 1646, when Charles was sixteen. In a few years, the King
hoped to recognise him publicly. With him alone could Charles practise
secretly the mysteries of the Church. To such edifying ends had God
turned an offence against His laws, an amourette. De la Cloche, of
course, was as yet not a priest, and could not administer sacraments, an
idea which occurred to Charles himself.
The Queen of Sweden, Charles added, was prudent, but, being a woman, she
probably could not keep a secret. Charles wants his son to come home,
and asks the Jesuit to put off Christina with any lie he pleases, if
she asks questions. In short, he regards the General of the Jesuits as
a person ready to tell any convenient falsehood, and lets this opinion
appear with perfect naivete! He will ask the Pope to hurry de la Cloche
into priest’s orders, or, if that is not easy, he will have the thing
done in Paris, by means of Louis XIV., or his own sister, Henrietta
(Madame). Or the Queen and Queen Mother can have it done in London, as
they ‘have bishops at their will.’ The King has no desire to interrupt
his son’s vocation as a Jesuit. In London the young man must avoid
Jesuit society, and other occasions of suspicion. He ends with a promise
of subscriptions to Jesuit objects.*
*Civ. Catt. Series V., vii. 269-274.
By the same courier, the King wrote to ‘Our most honoured son, the
Prince Stuart, dwelling with the R.P. Jesuits under the name of Signor
de la Cloche.’ James may be easy about money. He must be careful of his
health, which is delicate, and not voyage at an unhealthy season. The
Queens are anxious to see him. He should avoid asceticism. He may yet
be recognised, and take precedence of his younger and less nobly born
brother, the Duke of Monmouth. The King expresses his affection for a
son of excellent character, and distinguished by the solidity of his
studies and acquirements. If toleration is gained, de la Cloche has some
chance of the English throne, supposing Charles and the Duke of York
to die without issue male. Parliament will be unable to oppose this
arrangement, unless Catholics are excluded from the succession.
This has a crazy sound. The Crown would have been in no lack of
legitimate heirs, failing offspring male of the King and the Duke of
York.
If de la Cloche, however, persists in his vocation, so be it. The
King may get for him a cardinal’s hat. The King assures his son of
his affection, not only as the child of his extreme youth, but for
the virtues of his character. De la Cloche must travel as a simple
gentleman.*
*Ut supra, 275, 278.
On August 29, Charles again wrote to Oliva. He had heard that the Queen
of Sweden was going to Rome. De la Cloche must not meet her, she might
let out the secret: he must come home at once. If Charles is known to
be a Catholic, there will be tumults, and he will lose his life. Another
letter, undated, asks that the novice, contrary to rule, may travel
alone, with no Jesuit chaperon, and by sea, direct from Genoa.
Consulting physicians, the King has learned that sea sickness is never
fatal, rather salutary. His travelling name should be Henri de Rohan,
as if he were of that Calvinistic house, friends of the King. The story
must be circulated that de la Cloche is the son of a rich preacher,
deceased, and that he has gone to visit his mother, who is likely to
be converted. He must leave his religious costume with the Jesuits at
Genoa, and pick it up there on his return. He must not land at the port
of London, but at some other harbour, and thence drive to town.*
Ut supra, 283-287.
On October 14, d’Oliva, from Leghorn, wrote to Charles that ‘the French
gentleman’ was on the seas. On November 18, Charles wrote to d’Oliva
that his son was returning to Rome as his secret ambassador, and, by the
King’s orders, was to come back to London, bearing answers to questions
which he will put verbally. In France he leaves a Jesuit whom he is to
pick up as he again makes for England.*
*Father Florent Dumas, in a rather florid essay on ‘The Saintly Son
of Charles II,’ supposes that, after all, he had a Jesuit chaperon
during his expedition to England (Jesuit Etudes de Rel., Hist. et Lit.,
Paris, 1864-1865).
The questions to which de la Cloche is to bring answers doubtless
concerned the wish of Charles to be a Catholic secretly, and other
arrangements which he is known to have suggested on another occasion.
After this letter of November 18, 1668, WE NEVER HEAR A WORD ABOUT JAMES
DE LA CLOCHE.* No later letters from the King to d’Oliva are found, the
name of James de la Cloche does not occur again in the Records of the
Society of Jesus.
*Ut supra, 418-420.
Father Boero argues that James would return to London, under a third
name, unknown. But it would be risky for one who had appeared in England
under one name in 1665, and under another (Rohan) in 1668, to turn
up under a third in 1669. To take aliases, often three or four, was,
however, the custom of the English Jesuits, and de la Cloche may have
chosen his fourth. Thus we could not trace him, in records, unless
Charles wrote again to d’Oliva about his son. No such letter exists. In
his letter of November 18, Charles promises, in a year, a subscription
to the Jesuit building fund--this at his son’s request. I know not if
the money was ever paid. He also asks Oliva to give James 800 doppie for
expenses, to be repaid in six months.
James did not leave the Society of Jesus, argues Father Boero, for,
had he left, he would have carried away the papers in which Charles
acknowledges him and promises a pension of 500 pounds yearly. But that
document would be useless to James, whether he remained a Jesuit or
not, for the condition of the pension (1667) was that he should be a
Protestant of the Anglican sect, and live in London. However, Charles’s
letter of 1668 was in another tune, and James certainly left THAT with
the Jesuits in Rome; at least, they possess it now. But suppose that
James fled secretly from the Jesuits, then he probably had no chance
of recovering his papers. He was not likely to run away, however, for,
Charles says, he ‘did not like London,’ or the secular life, and
he appears to have returned to Rome at the end of 1668, with every
intention of fulfilling his mission and pursuing his vocation. His
return mission to England over, he probably would finish his Jesuit
training at a college in France or Flanders, say St. Omer’s, where
Titus Oates for a while abode. No James de la Cloche is known there or
elsewhere, but he might easily adopt a new alias, and Charles would have
no need to write to Oliva about him. It may be that James was the priest
at St. Omer’s, whom, in 1670, Charles had arranged to send, but did not
send, to Clement IX.* He may also be the priest secretly brought from
abroad to Charles during the Popish Plot (1678-1681).**
*Mignet, Neg. rel. Succ. d’Espagne, iii. 232.
**Welwood, Memoirs, 146.
These are suggestions of Lord Acton, who thinks that de la Cloche may
also have been the author of two papers, in French, on religion, left
by Charles, in his own hand, at his death.* These are conjectures. If
we accept them, de la Cloche was a truly self-denying young semi-Prince,
preferring an austere life to the delights and honours which attended
his younger brother, the Duke of Monmouth. But, just when de la Cloche
should have been returning from Rome to London, at the end of 1668 or
beginning of 1669, a person calling himself James Stuart, son of Charles
II., by an amour, at Jersey, in 1646, with a ‘Lady Mary Henrietta
Stuart,’ appeared in some magnificence at Naples. This James Stuart
either was, or affected to be, James de la Cloche. Whoever he was, the
King’s carefully guarded secret was out, was public property.
*Home and Foreign Review, i. 165.
Our information as to this James Stuart, or Giacopo Stuardo, son of
the King of England--the cavalier who appears exactly when the Jesuit
novice, James de la Cloche, son of the King of England, vanishes--is
derived from two sources. First there are Roman newsletters, forwarded
to England by Kent, the English agent at Rome, with his own despatches
in English. It does not appear to me that Kent had, as a rule, any
intimate purveyor of intelligence at Naples. He seems, in his own
letters to Williamson,* merely to follow and comment on the Italian
newsletters which he forwards and the gossip of ‘the Nation,’ that is,
the English in Rome. The newsletters, of course, might be under the
censorship of Rome and Naples. Such is one of our sources.**
*See ‘The Valet’s Master,’ for other references to Williamson.
**State Papers, Italian, 1669, Bundle 10, Record Office.
Lord Acton, in 1862, and other writers, have relied solely on this
first set of testimonies. But the late Mr. Maziere Brady has apparently
ignored or been unacquainted with these materials, and he cites a
printed book not quoted by Lord Acton.* This work is the third volume
of the ‘Lettere’ of Vincenzo Armanni of Gubbio, who wrote much about the
conversion of England, and had himself been in that country. The work
quoted was printed (privately?) by Giuseppe Piccini, at Macerata, in
1674, and, so far, I have been unable to see an example. The British
Museum Library has no copy, and the ‘Lettere’ are unknown to Brunet.
We have thus to take a secondhand version of Armanni’s account. He says
that his informant was one of two confessors, employed successively by
Prince James Stuart, at Naples, in January-August 1669. Now, Kent sent
to England an English translation of the Italian will of James Stuart. A
will is also given, of course in Italian, by Vincenzo Armanni; a copy of
this is in the Record Office.
*Maziere Brady, Anglo-Roman Papers, pp. 93-121 (Gardner Paisley,
1890).
It appears from this will that James Stuart, for reasons of his own,
actually did enjoy the services of two successive confessors, at Naples,
in 1669. The earlier of these two was Armanni’s informant. His account
of James Stuart differs from that of Kent and the Italian newsletters,
which we repeat, alone are cited by Lord Acton (1862); while Mr. Brady
(1890), citing Armanni, knows nothing of the newsletters and Kent, and
conceives himself to be the first writer in English on the subject.
Turning to our first source, the newsletters of Rome, and the letters of
Kent, the dates in each case prove that Kent, with variations, follows
the newsletters. The gazzetta of March 23, 1669, is the source of Kent’s
despatch of March 30. On the gazzette of April 6, 13, and 20, he makes
no comment, but his letter of June 16 varies more or less from the
newsletter of June 11. His despatch of September 7 corresponds to the
newsletter of the same date, but is much more copious.
Taking these authorities in order of date, we find the newsletter of
Rome (March 23, 1669) averring that an unknown English gentleman has
been ‘for some months’ at Naples, that is, since January at least,
and has fallen in love with the daughter of a poor innkeeper, or host
(locandiere). He is a Catholic and has married the girl. The newly made
father-in-law has been spending freely the money given to him by the
bridegroom. Armanni, as summarised by Mr. Brady, states the matter
of the money thus: ‘The Prince was anxious to make it appear that his
intended father-in-law was not altogether a pauper, and accordingly he
gave a sum of money to Signor Francesco Corona to serve as a dowry for
Teresa. Signor Corona could not deny himself the pleasure of exhibiting
this money before his friends, and he indiscreetly boasted before his
neighbours concerning his rich son-in-law.’
From Armanni’s version, derived from the confessor of James Stuart, it
appears that nothing was said as to James’s royal birth till after his
arrest, when he informed the Viceroy of Naples in self-defence.
To return to the newsletter of March 23, it represents that the Viceroy
heard of the unwonted expenditure of money by Corona, and seized the
English son-in-law on suspicion. In his possession the Viceroy found
about 200 doppie, many jewels, and some papers in which he was addressed
as Altezza (Highness). The word doppie is used by Charles (in Boero’s
Italian translation) for the 800 coins which he asks Oliva to give to
de la Cloche for travelling expenses. Were James Stuart’s 200 doppie the
remains of the 800? Lord Acton exaggerates when he writes vaguely that
Stuart possessed ‘heaps of pistoles.’ Two hundred doppie (about 150 or
160 pounds) are not ‘heaps.’ To return to the newsletter, the idea being
current that the young man was a natural son of the King of England, he
was provisionally confined in the castle of St. Elmo. On April 6, he is
reported to be shut up in the castle of Gaeta. On the 20th, we hear that
fifty scudi monthly have been assigned to the prisoner for his support.
The Viceroy has written (to England) to ask what is to be done with him.
On June 11, it is reported that, after being removed to the Vicaria, a
prison for vulgar malefactors, the captive has been released. He is NOT
the son of the King of England.
Kent’s letter of March 30 follows the newsletter of March 23. He adds
that the unknown Englishman ‘seems’ to have ‘vaunted to bee the King of
England’s sonne BORNE AT GERSEY,’ a fact never expressly stated about
de la Cloche. It is not clear that James Stuart vaunted his birth before
his arrest made it necessary for him to give an account of himself. Kent
also says that the unknown sent for the English consul, Mr. Browne, ‘to
assist his delivery out of the castle. But it seems he could not speake
a word of English nor give any account of the birth he pretended to.’ On
Kent’s showing, he had no documentary proofs of his royal birth. French
was de la Cloche’s language, if this unknown was he, and if Kent is
right, he had not with him the two documents and the letter of Charles
II. and the certificate of the Queen of Sweden. ‘This is all the light I
can picke out of the Nation, or others, of his extravagant story, which
whether will end in Prince or cheate I shall endeavour to inform you
hereafter.’
Kent’s next letter (June 16) follows, with variations, the newsletter of
June 11:--Kent to J. Williamson
June 16, 1669.
The Gentleman who WOULD HAVE BEENE HIS MAT’YS BASTARD at Naples, vpon
the receipt of his Ma’ties Letters to that Vice King was immediately
taken out of the Castle of Gaetta brought to Naples and Cast into the
Grand Prison called the Vicaria, where being thrust amongst the most
Vile and infamous Rascalls, the Vice King intended to have Caused him
to bee whipt about the Citty, but meanes was made by his wife’s kindred
(Who was Likewise taken with this pretended Prince) to the Vice-Queene,
who, in compassion to her and her kindred, prevailed with Don Pedro to
deliver him from that Shame [and from gaol, it seems], and soe ends the
Story of this fourb WHO SPEAKS NOE LANGUADGE BUT FFRENCH.
The newsletter says nothing of the intended whipping, or of the
intercession of the family of the wife of the unknown. These points may
be the additions of gossips.
In any case the unknown, with his wife, after a stay of no long time in
the Vicaria, is set at liberty. His release might be explained on the
ground that Charles disavowed and cast him off, which he might safely
do, if the man was really de la Cloche, but had none of the papers
proving his birth, the papers which are still in the Jesuit archives.
Or he may have had the papers, and they may have been taken from him and
restored to the Jesuit General.
So far, the betting as to whether de la Cloche and the Naples pretender
were the same man or not is at evens. Each hypothesis is beset
by difficulties. It is highly improbable that the unworldly and
enthusiastic Jesuit novice threw up, at its very crisis, a mission which
might lead his king, his father, and the British Empire back into the
one Fold. De la Cloche, forfeiting his chances of an earthly crown,
was on the point of gaining a heavenly one. It seems to the last degree
unlikely that he would lose this and leave the Jesuits to whom he had
devoted himself, and the quiet life of study and religion, for the
worldly life which he disliked, and for that life on a humble capital
of a few hundred pounds, and some jewels, presents, perhaps from the two
Queens, his grandmother and stepmother. De la Cloche knew that Charles,
if the novice clung to religion, had promised to procure for him, if he
desired it, a cardinal’s hat; while if, with Charles’s approval, he
left religion, he might be a prince, perhaps a king. He had thus every
imaginable motive for behaving with decorum--in religion or out of it.
Yet, if he is the Naples pretender, he suddenly left the Jesuits without
Charles’s knowledge and approval, but by a freakish escapade, like ‘The
Start’ of Charles himself as a lad, when he ran away from Argyll and
the Covenanters. And he did this before he ever saw Teresa Corona. He
reminds one of the Huguenot pastor in London, whom an acquaintance met
on the Turf. ‘I not preacher now, I gay dog,’ explained the holy man.
All this is, undeniably, of a high improbability. But on the other side,
de la Cloche was freakish and unsettled. He had but lately (1667) asked
for and accepted a pension to be paid while he remained an Anglican,
then he was suddenly received into the Roman Church, and started
off, probably on foot, with his tiny ‘swag’ of three shirts and three
collars, to walk to Rome and become a Jesuit. He may have deserted the
Jesuits as suddenly and recklessly as he had joined them. It is not
impossible. He may have received the 800 pounds for travelling expenses
from Oliva; not much of it was left by March 1669--only about 150
pounds. On the theory that the man at Naples was an impostor, it is
odd that he should only have spoken French, that he was charged with no
swindles, that he made a very poor marriage in place of aiming at a rich
union; that he had, somehow, learned de la Cloche’s secret; and that,
possessing a fatal secret, invaluable to a swindler and blackmailer, he
was merely disgraced and set free. Louis XIV. would, at least, have held
him a masked captive for the rest of his life. But he was liberated,
and, after a brief excursion, returned to Naples, where he died,
maintaining that he was a prince.
Thus, on either view, ‘prince or cheat,’ we are met by things almost
impossible.
We now take up the Naples man’s adventure as narrated by Kent. He
writes: