THere are newly come to my notice some unto­ward passages, wherby one of our great Pledges hath been exposed to the hazard of his Religion; which my Pen is very loth to impart, were it not for pre­vention, lest being impossible to bee conceald in England, it might bee represented by others either more desperate, or more faulty than yet it is in truth.

The King when hee went away from hence was over-in­treated by his mother to leave the Duke of Glocester with her, which to content her in some things, whom hee could not please in divers others, he consented to grant her that re­quest, upon promise that she would not force him to change his Religion, and so conditions of liberty of prayers, &c. were established. But of late they doe some sayby the French Courts instigation) presse it very hard, and even professe an attempt of it. Mr. Mountagu Lord Abbot of Nanteul &c) and his Instruments have gotten him, under pretence of weaning him from young French gallants company (that on occasi­on of being in the same Academic were indeed grown but too kinde to him) to Pomosse, and after a weeks stay there, his Tutor comming on businesse to Paris for one night, (whe­ther they had designed this absence of his, or onely did make use of it, I cannot tell) they all set upon him with motives Spirituall and Temporall to become a Roman Ca­tholike; the Spirituall ones such as the subject would af­ford, [Page 12]little and many; more trusting on number than weight, he and (his only help then) Mr. Griffin, answered with the best skill they had, and with much more resolution and metall both of them than you can imagine: and rejected the Temporall ones with contempt, and with the danger of in­curring the Kings displeasure, who had both given him a charge, and engaged his Mother, that there should bee no change in Religion laboured for. But to both the Duke added a complaint, that they should offer to assault him, with either of those considerations in the absence of his Tutor, who was fittest to judge of their proposalls.

When hee came therefore the shock was renew'd, and sustained so firmly, that the stay at Pontoyse was sooner en­ded than wee hoped for. To our great content we see our young Prince again frequent and constant at the same devo­tions with us, but complaining much hee should bee trou­bled by his Fathers and Brothers subjects, especially to be­come of another Religion, than they and his conscience di­rected him to keepe to.

But the Queene now must appeare to own the thing, and to profess that she cannot but labour to have her son shew'd the right way to Heaven; and though shee promised hee should not bee forced by her, yet to have that way proposed to him shee found requisite: and since Mr. Lovell (his Tutor) had expressed hee could not, nor must not see him so as­saulted, and therefore press'd the forbearance of such dis­courses in the Dukes presence, being ready to satisfie any one himselfe; she would put him into another Governors hands, for a while at least, and so under Mr. Mountagus wing hee is carried to Mr. Crofts house, being contrary to his owne earnest entreaty hurried away on Saturday, and not suffer'd to stay till Monday, though he pleaded hard for it upon want of a warme coat, and there he must tarry till Monday seven­night [Page 9]after. Meanwhile no body with him that might help his resolution save Mr. Griffin of his Bed-chamber: a yong Gentleman, though an old servant of his (once my Lord of Manchesters Page) who is indeed zealous against their design, even with resolution to quit the service, if any change should happen; but his yeares and breeding make him not invincible as to himself, and if hee yield any considerable assistance to his Master, must bee left behind too, the next remoove at least.

They have sent notice of these straights to the King and Duke of Yorke long since, but t'is carefully provided that the Duke of Yorke must not come home yet, and when he does prepare to come, if they cannot find themselves Conque­rors and secure, they will (rather than hazard the loss of this Prey) not scruple to encloystre him from any Heretikes view whatsoever.

In such a case as this, you cannot presume enough of the zeale and indignation the little Prince ha's against his Usage heere, against the wrong done him by the Councell that left him in such dangerous hands, against every obtruded Servant of that pack about him, against his new Governor, himself crossing him in divers things, even of lesser moment, as if hee were the only English, whom experience hath taught, how narrowly men ought to watch against Usurpa­tion; in fine, hee apprehends his danger seriously, and the honour of resisting most nobly and heroically, both for re­solution of Endeavour, and for confidence of Successe: that and the odds of the cause, and Gods power to perfect praise ex ore infantium, is almost the only hopes we have.

Let us have yours, and all good Protestants Prayers for this Confessor, who as he sees (unmov'd) an evident want of all things fit for a Gentleman of better sort, slighted of the French Court, his Mothers Frowne and endless impor­tunity [Page 10]before him, if hee be not perverted: So I doubt not is now under the Mew-Discipline, and the Manage of their Spirituall, or rather Ecclesiasticall Faulconers, who will not ever cease watching & dieting, &c. and whatever else is neces­sary to bring this yong Eaglet to stoop and vaile, and to do all things at their Lewre, even to take Hood too, if need bee. For they that make such a Court-worke of every little childes, and discontented debauch'd servants conversion, will spare none of their little or great Arts to get this Noble Bird of so Royall a Wing, as being the only one of that Airay they hope for now, having lost so much pains on the two former, and so fit to awe and dare lesser Birds by; of which there are Wagers layd of no few or mean ones already.

I foresaw this unmeasur'd excursion before hand, and was therefore so loth to write at all: and the truth is, I can neither scribere, nor nonscribere, til this Crisis be over Though I foresee what news this will be in Gath, furnishing the Par­liament with a ready answer, when the next bold man asks, What have the poor Gentlemen done abroad? And there are sagacious souls that would never understand till now the reason why the Parliament decreed to send him abroad, ere he was out-grown the danger of perversion. But certainly they that pretend to have true Protestant hearts, and will for either fear or love of money, suffer the Defenders of their Faith, to be led into the Wilderness of want, and prepare them with hunger for the Divels temptations of Turning any stone to get Bread, doe deserve the lash of persecution, which in time may justly light upon them, if God and they doe not timely prevent it.

By former Letters you may perceive how they prevailed with the Queene to take the Duke out of his Tutors hands, hurrying him first to Pontoyse, and then to Mr. Crofts house. [Page 15]During which, as fully as they possess'd him, every houre and much less parts of the day, one or other of the Bees ever humming about him; yet at night hee had one that lay in his Bed-chamber, who entertain'd him more to his hearts desire, and (like Penelope's Web) unspun (as well as they could two little yong things some few years above thirty between them) what ever had past in publique, or the day before.

And indeed they did well to spend and improve their nights in this manner; for when once they were up (as his Grandfather said of my Lord of Carliste, he was in perpetuall torments, Eatings, Huntings, Dancings, Visits, Journeys, En­tertainments of Males and Females; so) our little Duke was continually tortur'd with Arguments finely imbelish'd with, True Church, Roman Catholick Church; To be of the King of France, his Mothers Religion: Being made a Cardinall, To become that King which must restore what Henry 8. took away, and the appendices.

However he was not so strictly lookt unto at first, but that there might bee now and then stolen into his hand a Con­fortatory Letter from his Friends at Paris; but these shifts were to last but for a while: A terrible Ferule was polish'd for him, and such a one, as the a we of it kept him from flat rejecting and affronting his new Governor Mountagu, lest he being throughly vex'd, might resigne him up into the Je­suits hands; to whose College the Duke knew himselfe destin'd within few dayes, even by Violence it selfe, it relief came not from Germany.

And now when all his stock of Replies (which my Friend tels me, were hugely ingenious, and indeed solid, such as one would say, could not bee in those yeares but Ex traduce) were spent, and his last refuge of peremptory silence, and upbraiding them for pressing their Sophismes on such a one as he was, while the Deane his Tutor and friends were de­clin'd [Page 16]basely, grew stale helps, behold a grave friend of his Fathers, Sir G. R. comes with a Letter in his pocket from the King; and was indeed admitted to see him, and talke with him before witness, but so far from possibility of priva­cy, that hee was faine to leave the Letter behind him to bee conveyed at an opportuner occasion into his hand. That Letter, saies my Intelligencer, begins and ends so Brother­like, so Christian-like, so King-like, that hee hath set my longing on fire to hear it: 'tis promis'd me I shall, and when I doe, I shall be carefull to present you with that Jewell.

It puts him in minde of the strict command hee left with him at parting; of the monstrous injury to his conscience; to his state; to his Family; the vanity of their Motives, the emptiness of their promises; the more Eligibleness of any degree of suffering; Gods promises, whose love he must rec­kon to lose as well as his so loving a Brothers, if he were per­verted by any inticings whatsoever: And to make all he said more valuable; that he would reflect on their dead Fathers last charge, which he solemnly gave him, with the entaile of his blessing annexed.

In fine, he closed his instructions with that which would have been severe enough alone; That if he either chang'd his Religion, or put himselfe into the Jesuites College, he had the last letter from him, and must never look to see Eng­land or his Face again: And that if (which God forbid) their business miscarried, the whole ruining of their Familie, and all the Nations too, must lay the mischiefe at his doore as the great Cause of it.

Now no sooner had he read this Threatning Comforter, but he hugg'd it in his Bosome, and with all possible speed transcrib'd a Copie of it for his Mother, sending it forthwith to her; and begging her leave to come to Paris, both upon those commands of the King, and upon the newes of his [Page 13]Brothers being come from the Army. Of this the Answer was, she could not cease wishing his so great and eternall good; but she would not force him; but wish'd him to hearken to what Mr. Mountagu should further deliver unto him: & that was, that he would bee willing to go to the Jesuites College however, where hee should have strange freedome in every thing. But all would not perswade on the one side, nor secure on the other, till most welcomely about ten dayes since, my Lord of Ormond came from Germanie with letters, and instru­ctions to boot; to second with a duplicate, and new Charges by word of mouth, the force of the former Letters. His bu­siness (namely, the setting free of this yong Prince,) was of high concernment, else so great a person would never have been spar'd from his Master at such a time, in so ill a season of weather, to take so long and dangerous a Voyage, just up­on the dissolving of the Armies, who had beset all wayes, and robb'd all Convoyes; and had he staid but foure dayes longer, he might as well have staid foure years, it would then have been too late to have done any good.

But now the Duke is return'd to his old Prayers, and to old Faces, to whom he tels such Stories of his Adventures, as (he sayes) has made him almost mad. But others say, have made him much wiser then a longer time and better Tutor could easily have done.

Since the Dukes return to the Palais-Royal, his Bro­thers company, and the exercise of his own Religion, he has met with many assaults: obedience to his Mother in all things possible, engaged him not to refuse whom she set o­ver him and sent about him; and though she has promised him some respit for a while at least, in respect to his Bro­thers straight charge, yet she findes enow that pursue a truceless warre. How he answers all their Varietie of smooth [Page 14]and sharp Assaults, tis very prety to heare, and did not the Posts interruption give me suspition that our Letters keep not their daies to you, no more than yours to us, I should send you constantly the proceedings in the business.

But if there be not strange unnaturall carriage used, we shall enjoy his Concurrence in Communion with us as we do every day, and which will most vex them, on Sunday next at Church at the Residents house: which he is resolv'd shall not be neglected or omitted upon any perswasion what­soever: though that be not in the number of those things which he is fortified for by the Kings Letter. For he has a serious indignation against them that have with so many wiles hindred him (indeed by plain moral Violence, which no entreaty, no policy of his could either prevent or mollifie) so many Sundayes from Paris; and at the Reports which were begotten betweene lying tongues and credulous cares, that he was already turn'd, upon no other ground of his giving, but bare being away from Church; which could no way be effected but by hurrying him out of Towne; nor could that be obtained of him without establishing a new Governour upon him, which thing so indirectly trenching on Religion, he could not have refused without disobeying his Mother: Yet the advantage of that, as it was really great against the poore Youth, produc'd so great a pledge to the Roman party, that the Curates in divers Churches gave thanks for his Reconciliation a Sunday or two agone; So that they will be now exposed to disrepute of their Parishio­ners, and mockerie of the adversary, the first Sunday of their supposed Proselytes appearing at our Church, which is like­ly to kindle no small wrath amongst them, and therefore we stand in feare of some shrew'd Crisis between this and Sun­day morning as neere as it is: I doe not meane of hazard, but of greater violence of assault.

He has been on his Visit at the Louvre, and past those pikes already: though both Queen and Cardinal joyntly, and both severally, have pressed him, that hee is now to obey his Mother since his Father death; and they cannot finde any occasion he should have to regard other directions. Here hee thought hee had most need of his Bro­thers Letter, which enjoyn'd him silence to any disputes: But manners would not suffer him to say nothing, and much less to say what he could have done, of the inconvenience of preferring Mothers commands before his Soveraignes: But it would have been too hot; and therefore glad he was to come off that brunt, with a general promise of dutifulness to his Mother as much as any Son in the world could or ought to use; and a protestation that it was ever a thing abhorr'd of him to harken to any Counsell to the contrary. And besides that the very getting off was a Triumph, he made great prize of their promise, that it was but for his greater good, and the advantage they should have of high­lyer doing him good, that they look'd upon the hopes of his change of Religion; they knew however that they ought to look on him as a Childe of France, of whatsoever religi­on he was.

There was besides, a passage which hee was not very free of relating, yet it came out; that there had beene a promise betweene the Crownes articled upon at the Marriage-Treaty of his Father and Mother, that the Queen should have the bring­ing up of all the children till twelve years of age, in lieu and compensation of which being so notoriously violated, it was but reason and great condescention, that the third Son should be intirely committed to her disposall, especially she being in France. You will easily grant it out of the Sphere of his Age to reply to such high assaults: it was highly enough for his honor that hee was thought fit to bee so pleaded with; but that it wrought not with him, is a signe of [Page 10]Gods great vigilancy over him, and a Pledge that hee ha's a Blessing for him.

In fine, all these Addresses abroad, and other renew'd at home, gave such a testimony of his firmness, that the Queen on Saturday morning tooke him apart from all his and her Servants, and very seriously bemoan'd her case with his too, in that the earnest desire of his and the whole Families good met with such difficulties, as should put her to use such se­verity with him. Shee could not but pity him, as wearied already with so many perswasions; and truly the tender affection she ever had for him, and had constantly shew'd to him, could not but make her selfe weary of such tedious courses: Therefore she was resolv'd to make a sudden end; and for that cause charg'd him to retire himselfe, and give one hearing more to Mr. Mountagu, and afterwards to lay her and his words seriously to his heart, and bring her an answer full and finall ere night. What the particular Pro­posals she made were, may come out hereafter: At the first appearance of this intended privacy with him, hee very dex­terously contrived an opportunity to speake to his Servant Griffin, to seek out my Lord of Ormond to be ready to speake with him, by then he might come from his Mother; which is a fair Omen: But the Post must not be presum'd on, &c.

You were left I think at the state of things on Saturday morning, and was come to the charge the Queen had given him to attend her alone. The Duke had in the little Interim of clearing the room, sent Griffin for my Lord of Ormond pre­sently to be with him, or at least so soone as the Queen had done: And it was but Propheticall Providence; for the Queens business was of so great import as might require it well. She began with all sweetness possible, repeated the ma­nifest signes of her great and tender affection for him, and [Page 11]how much it griev'd her that that very love it selfe should compell her to proceed now with such seeming severity: She presum'd he was weary of it, and truly so was shee too, therefore for his ease sake, shee would shorten his Time of Triall; and therefore proposing all the good she aym'd at in this designe of hers, and the Duty hee owed her, and the disability of the King to maintaine him, &c. She wish'd him to withdraw presently, and sequestring himselfe from any diversion after he had given Mr. Mountagu the hearing, for a while to ponder seriously what shee and hee had said, and bring her his finall answer ere night.

The Duke obey'd; for reply then he must not: Goes to his Chamber; Mr. Mountagu comes, presses, is refused: but after an houres Discourse, retires, begs to be sent for againe when my Lord of Ormond was come, within an houre; if not, hee must come of himselfe. But my Lord of Ormond comes, no Mountagu sent for, or comes for two houres. The Marquess and the Duke soone resolv'd what should bee an­swered: spent the time onely in ordering circumstances for the manner.

After these three Discourses, it was time for a yong Prince to have a little breath, and therefore hee retires to a Lady's Chamber on the other side, where he might give his eares a little ease, and if he must heare more, that it might bee lesse materiall discourse, therefore chooses one that would beat no more upon that Theme. No sooner is hee gone, but Mr. Mountague comes, misses him, hunts up and downe for him, chides him for being off his station of pensivenesse, for not having sent for him.

Well Sir sayes the Duke, my Task is done, I have resolv'd: what did my Mother bid more? there is time enough to tell. And so it was, as it prov'd to be; for the answer was such, that the en­tertainment it had, was a charge to see her face no more. Which [Page 12]Sentence was no sooner pronounc'd, but executed by French haste: Out he must; and then hee that had nothing but a­mazement to reply with, had now a Cue to speake on, and beg the parting Blessing at least, till hee could prevaile for her pardon. It will not bee; Out hee must; and so full of Tears and Astonishment, to finde out his Brother hee goes, and they share the sorrow till Youth and Night parts them by drowsinesse.

But the Edict, that it may not seem Scenical, or in terrorem, goes forth to all the Officers of the House; neither to pro­vide nor lend any Necessary either to spend, or so much as to use. While the yong Innocent slept soundly, and upon the advantage sorrow had given, long in the morning; drea­ming but of one Task at most, stealing a Blessing of his Mo­ther, either by Sisters or Brothers Intercession; or stealing at least a means of begging it ere shee went to her Monaste­ry, or himselfe to Church, a much long'd for (and often wrangled for) contentment. But in stead of a Mother, hee is admitted to no converse on her side but of a Step-Tutor, who again solicits, aggravates the perill of his Mothers an­ger, knowing indeed more then the little Duke did of it (as Causes can prophesie, and Counsellors know all that was al­ready.) Now was the time, if ever, sayes Mountagu: Get to her this very present instant, (almost Sermon-time,) shee has easier Pro­posals for you, but I cannot name them now. The Duke answers; Then will I; where ere I go, I must have not a quiet only for a while, but the exercise of my Religion; neither her Proposals, and lesse yours, promise that.

The Coach went now by with his Mother for the Nun­nery: The backside whereof made him warm: Mr. Moun­tague need not aggravate the sadness of the spectacle, which as appear'd afterwards, was more like the last remote View, than the child could think of. Hee answered; Such as it is I [Page 13]may thank you for, Sir; and tis but reason, What my Mother sayes to me, I say to you; I pray be sure I see you no more; and so shew'd his back. And to the last question, Whither are you going, good Sir? The Duke answered (over the shoulder) To Church. Where hee was indeed somewhat sadder than be­came the cheerfullnesse of the rest of the Congregation: But ere night we all pardoned him, finding much of its cause the story which we knew not then, and besides that a great deale of Augurie which hee could expreslie then know: for after Sermon hee had a (No-Sunday) thought lay on him to finde a Dinner: to the Cooks he must send; neither Meat, Wine, Bread, Napkin, nor diet to bee had else; so heavy, so generall the Proscription.

Yet after Evening Prayer he hop'd one interval of content, by his Mothers absence to goe see his Sister. The newes of his adventure frights her poore childe into Teares and shrikes; and though the visitant was by his servant named a Gentleman onely, yet shee starts up, and cries out, Oh God, my Brother! Oh me! my Mother! I am undone for ever! What shall I doe? Not one among her attendants old or yong, could answer her but in Teares and shrikes as impotent. The poore Duke attends; the messenger dissembles their postures till he was got farther off. Ere long home, was the Queene come, and how full by this time she was of his Re­ply to Mr. Mountague, a new advance of the sentence shewes; a Groom comes up at 8, or 9, at night to know what he should do with the Dukes two Horses: the Comptroler was come with a charge to put them out instantly: The Clowne pleaded, To morrow would be time enough; Now 'twas too late: with a great oath or two, the yong Comptroller re­plies, Yes, and I shall be out of my place ere morning.

The resolutions on Munday of the Duke were to give way to this Passion; and in order to it since his verball Passe [Page 14]was given him on Saturday night, Dee what you please: onely see not my face: he would not be so neare his Mother (all the while hee was providing necessaries wanting for a Germanie journey,) but retire to Mr. Crofts his house a while, a little out of the way, whence he might beg a grant to bee admit­ted to take leave. The Queen heares of this also: checks Crofts for now seeming willing to receive him, whom shee has often commanded to invite. The like penaltie almost lay on him if he lent him his house: he tells the Duke, and submits however to his pleasure. The Duke thankes him, but would not displease her so much: and so resolves after Dinner, when the Queene of France was to come, (and it would bee uncomely for him to bee in the house, and not waite on h [...]r; as in his Mothers lodgings hee might not) to goe over the water and visit my Lord H. but even in that there would be a danger to the good Lord from London: yet considering there was great odds betweene his and his Bro­thers presence, hee adventured, though the deliberations made it somewhat over late: but there grew on an occasion, that the next night he was to lie there also, for there was no longer staying in the Palais royall

The Lord and his Lady cannot refuse (a double exile, for his Fathers and his owne Religion, and for his owne crime loyaltie) to admit such a Guest, while hee can provide for his Voyage, for which t'was presum'd he could find but two Horses, and the relikes of his new-given 10 l. for the monthly privy purse.

We were last night in some apprehensions too of danger by reason of the situation of the house, alone in the utmost Fauxbourgs, from either the zealots welwillers to the hor­ribly and notoriously disappointed; or from the disrellish of the Courts that might happen. But all is well to day, saving that his abode there is not yet so known, but that [Page 15]divers of each French Religion thinke hee remov'd from the Palais to the Jesuites College: all things being there so con­fidently ready long agone, and the desires of both Queens so concentrally tending to that designe, even since the perem­ptory commands of his Brother from Coloigne triplicated to him, and seconded with divers fince.

On Munday the Queene had not forgot her severe threat and interdict to the Duke: yet having taken all the courses shee could finde in her owne Spheare, had it seems enga­ged the Queene of France to try once more her Authority with him. But the expectation of her comming to the Palais was diversly interpreted, some imagined it was to make the Dukes peace; some that shee might retract his resolution by fresh assaults; some to shew him how little he must look for the favour of their presence: but his High­nesse could not endure the uncouthenesse of his confine­ment to his chamber, nor car'd much to hazzard the sight of the Queen of France, he had been so fearfully assaulted of late.

But so it was, that so soone as shee came, shee sent her son the Duke of Anjou to visit him, who returned with newes he was not at home: The Queene of France sent then his Governour to enquire where he was, and having heard, sent him immediately over to the Lord H. to labour to bend him to the Queens resolution for him, and the Jesuites College was vehemently press'd againe. To the Kings con­trary command, the Marquesse (Duke of Anjou his Gover­nour) replied with the greatest advantage of his owne parts, that it belonged to the Queen to dispose of her son since his Fathers Death entirely; he disputed whether he was in his Brothers power, onely for being his Soveraigne: and the discourse growing now somewhat publicker, and the Lords ioyning in with the Duke, the Marquess had now his match; [Page 16]and the debating that ill favoured nicety of Authority be­tweene Queen Mother, and Brother King, was so agita­ted by the English, that the French Gentleman, a man of huge parts indeed, was put out of hopes of prevayling in his Errand. The Queen, in confidence of her Envoyè, expects he should bring her home entire newes of the change of the yong Prince his mind, and till almost 8. shee tarried for him there; but the report of the Discourse did soone satisfie her, no alteration could be made in his Resolutions.

The next day therefore a Report is rais'd how uncivilly the Queene of France her Message was receiv'd with affront, & the last step of alienation and distance between the Queen and her Son came to the height: The great Palace of Cardi­nall Richelieu is not big enough for these two great Hearts ex­tracted from Henry the 4.

Since his departure all things are better then we imagin'd, save that the presumption they had of him heretofore is not yet worn away. It lasted to my knowledge till Thursday, in so great a strength of Tumour, that one of the French Mini­sters assured an Englishman that came to visit him, that the Duke was for certaine in the Jesuites College. The Duke had made a Resolution that would have confuted the very Relikes of that mistake, by an intention to have come every day to Prayers to us, but because that might perchance have aggravated the heat, and lookt like a fresh affront, it was advised to be omitted.

Wee begin now, since I began writing, to bee assured the Passion begins to abate: The Queen they say, ha's condescen­ded to give him leave to go with my Lord of Ormond, and it is hoped may admit him to beg her blessing: which makes my Letter somewhat the shorter: and I presume you wil be content to goe to the burying of past four circumstances as soone as may bee with the Vindication of the Dukes sincere and heroike constancy.