But the King of England humiliated himself in vain. Rosetti and those who directed him were aware of both the circumstances and the character of the man with whom they had to deal. They knew that only one thing could irrevocably bind Charles to the Catholic cause, and to the performance of his difficult promise. "The true way of getting help from the Holy See," said Rosetti severely, "is the conversion of the King." It was of no avail that Henrietta hastily asserted that such a step was impossible, not from any dislike on her husband's part to their holy religion, but because it would cost him his crown. The King's acts, and not his motives, were the envoy's concern, and he offered no comment on this wifely explanation, but hastened to bid the Queen farewell. He left England immediately, and Henrietta never saw him again. A month later, in the August of this sad summer, Henrietta wrote a letter to her sister Christine, which is the best description of the despair which was taking possession of her. "I swear to you," so it runs, "that I am almost mad with the sudden change in my fortunes. From the highest pitch of contentment I am fallen into every kind of misery which affects not only me but others. The sufferings of the poor Catholics and of others who are the servants of my lord the King touch me as sensibly as can any personal sorrow. Imagine what I feel to see the King's power taken from him, the Catholics persecuted, the priests hanged, the persons devoted to us removed and pursued for their lives because they served the King. As for myself, I am kept as a prisoner, so that they will not even permit me to follow the King, who is going to Scotland." She goes on to speak of one of the chief aggravations of her misery, the utter helplessness which she felt. "You have had troubles enough," she exclaims to her sister, "but at least you were able to do something to escape them; while we, we have to sit with our arms folded, quite unable to help ourselves. I know well," she adds sadly, commenting on her little daughter's marriage, which might have seemed rather beneath the dignity of the eldest daughter of England, "I know well that it is not kingdoms that give contentment, and that kings are as unhappy and sometimes more so than other people."[257]