“Take this oath,” said the King, “and all will be well.”
The nurse started to scream in horror: “Deny the Pope. Deny the Holy Father his rights. Never…never…never….”
The King said: “Then you will leave this palace at once.”
I was very distressed and although the King tried to comfort me I refused to listen to him. I said that every woman in the country could choose the nurse for her own child but the Queen, a daughter of Henri IV, was denied that right.
The King went on trying to comfort me, making allowances for my state, I know; but I was really distressed, not only because of the nurse, but because I had believed till then that I was making some headway and that Catholics were treated much more leniently in England than they had been before my arrival. I had strong hopes that I was beginning to make the King see the rightness of the Catholic Faith and I had thought how wonderful it would be if I could convert him, and, through him, the nation. I should go down in history as another St. Augustine or Bertha of early England. And now I could not even have a Catholic wet nurse for my baby!
I refused to eat and I lay sullenly in my bed and was so despairing that I became really ill. The King sent for doctors who could not put a name to my malady. “The Queen is depressed and so upset that she has lost her vitality and her interest in life,” said the doctors.
Charles was beside himself with anxiety. He really did love me, and I hated to worry him; but I was upset for I did see in this dismissal of the nurse the hopelessness of my dreams.
As I lay there, one day Charles came to the room and with him was the Catholic nurse.
“She is to come back,” he said simply. “I have given permission. I will silence the gossipers. I hope that pleases you.”
I just held out my arms and we clung together. I was so happy—not only to have the nurse back but because of this further sign of his love for me.
I was better within a day.
There was another little trouble a few days later. The King’s Protestant chaplain came to me and explained what great good I could do the King and the country by renouncing the Catholic Faith and embracing Protestantism.
What a proposition to make to an ardent Catholic! I denounced him and his Faith vehemently but he persisted; he went on his knees and prayed. This angered me. As if I did not know the meaning of prayer!
I cried out: “It is you who are mistaken. You will burn in hell. God will never forgive you for renouncing the true Faith.”
I became hysterical and ill again.
The King came and soothed me. I must be calmer, he said. He knew how strongly I felt about my religion and he had done everything he could to make life easy for me. He had relaxed the laws against Catholics and that was making the people displeased. A great deal of our unpopularity was due to that. I must know that he would do everything he could to please me.
“Anything?” I asked.
“You know that I would.”
“Then there is one thing I want more than anything in the world. Dear husband, I want you to stand beside me in worship.”
He sighed and said: “Ah, little one, I would that could be.”
I was confident then that one day Charles would see the light. I threw off my lethargy, my fury against those who had taken the nurse—but I had her back, had I not?—and I determined to fight as never before for the conversion of my husband to the true Faith.
There were many people to report what was happening in England and I realized that the general opinion abroad was that I had a great influence on the King and was bringing him round to my Catholic point of view. I think there was some truth in this and perhaps it was the reason why I was becoming more and more unpopular in England. I ignored this in my heedless way, believing with Charles that Kings were the Lord’s anointed and the common people at length must realize that they had no right to do anything but accept this. However, there were high hopes in Rome because I was regarded as the Pope’s good ambassadress.
Baby James was just over a year old when Gregorio Panzani came to London. He had been sent by the Pope to visit England in particular to talk to me. I was greatly flattered and I really did feel that in spite of a few steps backward I was making some progress.
Father Philip presented Panzani to me as soon as he arrived in England and Panzani was most gracious.
“The Holy Father himself thanks you for what you have done and what you are doing for the Faith in this misguided land. You have been as a mother to these ungrateful people. Can you, do you believe, bring them to true understanding?”
I was filled with emotion.
“I cannot tell you how much I esteem the good opinion of His Holiness,” I answered. “Tell him to rest assured that I will do everything within my power to please him and God.”
“His Holiness is aware of this but will be overjoyed that you have confirmed it.”
My impetuosity took charge. I was so pleased that my efforts were recognized and I wanted to get the ultimate credit, so I said confidentially: “I firmly believe that before long I shall have converted the King to the Faith. He is a saintly man; he appreciates what is holy. Yes, I am convinced that ere long I shall bring about his conversion.”
“That,” replied Panzani, “is the best possible news I could have heard and exceeds my expectations.” He went on to say that he greatly desired a meeting with the King and I told him I would arrange it without delay.
When Charles heard that Gregorio Panzani was in England and had actually visited me informally he was greatly disturbed. He looked at me with that tender exasperation which I knew so well and said: “This could be dangerous. What will be said if the people hear that you are secretly receiving messengers from the Pope?”
“If you receive him his visit will not be secret,” I said logically.
But Charles merely shook his head at me.
I then said that I had promised Panzani should meet the King, so Charles could not humiliate me by not receiving him.
Charles demurred. He was far more worried about the people who surrounded him, and many of them were his enemies, than I realized then.
At length he said that a meeting should take place, but it would have to be in secret…not official.
I was delighted. That would do very well, I cried and embraced him and told him I was the happiest and luckiest of women to have such a husband.
A meeting was arranged and Panzani and Charles met without any fuss. I was not present at their meeting but I knew it was an amicable one.
It was impossible to keep the arrival of Panzani a complete secret. Several members of the Court knew he was in England; however, realizing the King wished that the visit should not be considered an official one, they kept quiet.
But these matters cannot long be kept secret. There is certain to be someone who cannot resist talking too much, and one day when Charles and I were together playing some parlor game a guard came in to tell us that there was a man outside who was begging an audience with the King on a matter, he said, of grave importance.
“He does not look in the least dangerous,” said the guard, “and he carries no weapons.”
“Then bring him to me,” said the King.
The man was brought in. He proved to be one of that sect which was becoming more and more prominent in England during the last year or so: a Puritan. He was very plainly dressed and his hair was cut in an odd fashion which made his head look round.