Henrietta Maria

by Henrietta Haynes

The French marriage of Charles I represented, in a measure, a compromise between the hopes of the English Catholics and the fears of the English Puritans. From the point of view of the latter an alliance with any Catholic Princess was a misfortune; but, nevertheless, Henrietta was regarded as a modified evil by those who had feared a Spanish Infanta. Spain was the old enemy, the land which had sent out the Great Armada, and which in every way had fostered the most militant and uncompromising elements of English Catholicism; France, if unfortunately it had not fulfilled the promise it had once given of becoming a Protestant country, was Catholic in another and a far less rigid sense, and it was remembered that Henrietta was the daughter of the man who had been at one time the hope of the Reformers, and who, if he had deserted his faith with a light-hearted cynicism not often to be paralleled, had found at the end that the Mass which gained Paris for him could not save him from the knife of the man who was believed to be the pupil of the Jesuits. The qualified satisfaction which was general in England is well reflected in the following paragraph which appeared in a newsletter when it was known that the negotiations for the marriage were approaching completion:—

"The first tidings of this joyfull newes were welcome unto all except Jezuited English who have not so much hope to accomplish their ambitious projects, allwayes hurtfull to the good and tranquillity of this Kingdome by this Marriage of France, as they had by that of Spaine, since all men know who know any thing at all, how all true-hearted Frenchmen detest and hate this cruell king-killing Ignatian order since the death and murther of two Burbonian Henries kild by them and their accomplices."[104]

But, on the other hand, the substitution of a French for a Spanish Queen was a severe blow to the English Catholics. These heroic men who, hiding their heads "mid ignomy, death and tombs," had kept alive through years of persecution the faith of their fathers, had acquired something of the harshness and narrowness which belongs to a persecuted remnant. The more liberal type of Catholicism prevalent in France was not congenial to them,[105] and they had, moreover, good reason to be grateful to the House of Austria. The King of Spain not only permitted English seminaries and religious houses to be established in Spain and in the Low Countries, but he even supported some of them with pensions, and during the negotiations with James I for a matrimonial alliance he showed both his will and his power to protect the English Catholics at home, where a peace of the Church was then enjoyed which was long remembered in less happy times. All persecution ceased, and at St. James's Palace a Catholic Chapel was seen in course of building, designed for the use of the Spanish Queen who never came.

It was not likely that the eyes of Richelieu,[106] which saw everything, should fail to observe the unfortunate predilection of the English Catholics for the enemies of France, and there is no doubt that one of the reasons for which Henrietta was sent into England was to detach them from this alliance. During the period of negotiations Richelieu wrote a friendly letter to the Catholic body in England,[107] and the French ambassadors were charged to do all in their power to win the confidence of its principal members, and to combat the wiles of the Spaniards, who tried to persuade them that the French had no true regard for religion. Ville-aux-clercs, when he was in London, was on one occasion obliged to attend a service at Westminster Abbey. He was careful to behave with the utmost rudeness, in order to show the uncompromising character of a Frenchman's Catholicism.[108] Tillières took great pains to conciliate the chiefs of the English Catholics, and to persuade them that his master was as good a Catholic as the King of Spain. But it was no easy task, and it was not until Louis XIII had stayed the passage of an anti-Catholic law in the English Parliament that they began to feel some confidence in him. Then a letter of thanks was sent to Paris,[109] and even the Jesuits, who were considered peculiarly pro-Spanish, wrote to express their desire for the coming alliance. Matters were the more satisfactory inasmuch as William Smith, who had recently been consecrated Bishop of Chalcedon, and who, in the teeth of the Jesuits, claimed the jurisdiction of an ordinary in England, was well known in France, where he had resided for many years in the household of Richelieu. It was, moreover, with the same object that the French Government insisted upon the promise to suspend the execution of the recusancy laws as a sine qua non of the marriage, "otherwise," wrote Tillières frankly, "the English Catholics will be lost to France and assured to Spain."[110] Thus Richelieu's action in this particular fits into his general scheme of anti-Austrian policy, and he is cleared from any suspicion that he was actuated by weak religious scruples in thus setting himself against the Protestant prejudice of England.

Henrietta was probably not unconscious of the dubious reception which would be afforded to her by her co-religionists, and her advisers were still more alive to the necessity of her making a good impression upon the English Catholics. At first all went well. Those who were unaware of the religious revival which was taking place in France were surprised at the piety of Bérulle (who was one of the leaders of the revival), and at the zeal of the Bishop of Mende,[111] who, with great diplomacy, took care to interest himself in the general affairs of his co-religionists in England. The young Queen herself, who in Paris had not been remarkable for devotion, seemed on entering the heretic country to be dowered with a new piety and zeal. She showed great compassion for her Catholic subjects, and such devotion to her religious duties that she heard Mass every day, even when she was on one of the frequent progresses of the English Court, and on Sundays listened to a sermon and attended Vespers, which was usually enlivened by instrumental music. "Can such good things come out of Galilee?" was the wondering question of the pro-Spanish English Catholic; and if he suspended his ultimate judgment, he at least rejoiced for the time in the edifying conduct of those whose presence was the guarantee of his peace.

Even some of the Protestants seemed softened. Henrietta, in her earlier days, before sorrow deepened and hardened her character, was far from a bigot, and indeed the daughter of Henry IV never had in her the true stuff of fanaticism. When just after her marriage some one was rude enough to ask her if she disliked Huguenots, she answered gently, "Why should I? My father was one"; and some of Bérulle's enemies, "the ministers," presuming on such girlish kindliness, boasted that in six months she would be at their preachings. Others, less sanguine, contented themselves with admiring the decorum of the services to which curiosity led them, and with praising the outward regularity of the lives of the Oratorian Fathers. Thus the Catholics had ground for hope, but not for exultation. "These are flowers of hopes," wrote the cautious Bérulle, "but nothing but flowers and, moreover, flowers surrounded by thorns. These are hopes, but they have need of a greater maturity in the Queen and more persevering conduct on the part of France."[112]

It was therefore the greater disappointment when the persecution of 1625 fell. Nor was it a slight and passing storm. Never, even in the days of Edward VI or Elizabeth, had the Catholics been in such evil case, except that the death penalty, to which the King had an invincible repugnance, was not exacted.[113] But the most loyal of laymen, such as the Marquis of Winchester, suffered in their goods, while the prisons became veritable cloisters of religious. It is not surprising that the persecuted contrasted the peace and security of the days of mere negotiations with Spain with the misery brought about by a consummated marriage with France, or that Richelieu and his emissaries in England ground their teeth with rage to see those whom they had hoped to capture flung back again into the arms of His Catholic Majesty.

Henrietta herself, though much distressed, did not despair. She had already discovered that her husband was naturally inclined to mercy, and she knew that persecution was to a great extent a financial expedient to fill the empty coffers of the State. Young as she was, she understood the task to which, religiously speaking, her marriage had called her,[114] for the performance of which the papal dispensation had been granted, and of which the importance had been impressed upon her by her mother, by Bérulle, and by the Bishop of Mende, all of whom saw in her another Bertha who was to effect a new conversion of England. Even in the dark days of April, 1626, she did not falter. She was praying, she wrote to the Pope, who had honoured her with a Brief, not only that she might stand firm in the true religion, but that also she might "procure all the peace and comfort which I can for the Catholics of the Kingdoms, hoping that the natural goodness of the King my Lord, touched by a holy inspiration and by my ardent prayers, will produce some sweet and favourable effect for their comfort. And although up to now there has been little fruit of my endeavours, yet I promise myself that my persevering constancy, aided by divine assistance, will not always be useless to them."[115]

The first step towards a better state of things was the reconstruction of the Queen's religious establishment which had been so abruptly broken up. Charles was at first quite obdurate to the requests of the French Government, and refused not only to receive a Bishop as Grand Almoner,[116] but even to entertain the idea of the establishment of a religious Order in England. But in this case, as in many others, he was talked over. Years before, in Spain, he had been acquainted with some Capuchin Fathers who had impressed him by their good sense and piety. The Order was a humble one, not likely to mix in politics, and eventually he intimated that he would be willing to receive some of its members in the capacity of chaplains to his wife.

But difficulties arose. The two Fathers of the Oratory, who were still in England, had been drawn into the intrigues of Chateauneuf, and Father Philip was considered almost an enemy of France. The Capuchins, on the other hand, were under the protection of Fontenay-Mareuil, and they quite expected to see the members of the rival congregation expelled and the path left clear for themselves.