But before Montagu received the remonstrances and arguments of his friends (which, as usually happens in such cases, proved quite unavailing), he had met with an adventure which connects his change of faith with one of the most curious episodes in the religious history of the period. At this time all France was talking of the terrible fate of the Ursuline nuns at Loudun, who were manifestly possessed by the devil, and of the wonderful exorcisms whereby certain holy men were able to overcome his wiles and machinations. It was quite a fashionable amusement to ride out to Loudun, visit the "possessed," and witness the ceremonies of exorcism; and one day at the end of November, 1635, Montagu, accompanied by Thomas Killigrew, a literary friend whom he had met in Paris, set off and arrived in due course at the convent of which Satan had made his stronghold. There the two Englishmen, who were provided with a letter of introduction from the Archbishop of Tours, saw some of the marvels which are recorded in the _Histoire des Diables de Loudun_. The poor possessed nuns crawled about before them gnawing and bellowing like wild beasts and uttering fearful blasphemies, until the devil was forced to relinquish his prey by the application of various relics and the recitation of appropriate prayers. Strangers were always welcome at these spectacles, though sometimes they came away calling the poor nuns "impostorious," an epithet applied to them by honest John Evelyn, who knew them but by repute; but Montagu, as an Englishman of noble birth high in the favour of the Queen of France, was treated with special distinction, Father Surin, the exorcist, who had been told by the Archbishop of Tours "so to manage matters that the English lord might receive edification,"[187] even permitting him to hold the hand of one of the most distinguished of the patients, Mother des Anges, from whom eventually four demons were chased. On this occasion she was possessed by an evil spirit named Balaam, who had boasted that on his exit he would print his name upon his victim's hand. But the good Father, "judging it more proper that a religious person should bear on her hand the name of a saint than that of a devil,"[188] forced him to another course of action. As Montagu gazed upon the poor struggling woman, who required several persons to hold her in her paroxysm, he beheld, as he had been led to expect, the name of Joseph write itself on the back of her hand in small red dots. This strange occurrence, which seemed to him explicable on no natural ground, impressed his mind as much as it was intended that it should,[189] and he convert returned to Paris with an increased appreciation of the advantages of belonging to a Church which held in her hand the power of such marvels. He hastened to communicate his impressions to Richelieu, who took an interest in the nuns, and who was wont to extend a condescending patronage to the Englishman, whom in his heart he despised and distrusted.