of by the Catholics even in Rome as one of the chief relics of the ancient religion, was torn down, and it was decided that "the Lead about the Crosse" should "be cast into Bullets, and bestowed on the Papists in armes."[294] This was bad enough, but even more trying to the Queen's feelings were the piteous accounts which came of the sufferings of her poor Capuchins, who, after more than a year of terrified waiting, saw themselves and their property in the hands of a ruthless mob, which was none the better because it acted in the name of the House of Commons, and which was led by Henry Martin, a man of unusually violent character, who was afterwards one of the regicides. All the remonstrances of the French agent and the House of Lords, "whose members have learned by their travels that there are other countries besides England,"[295] were brushed aside. Hideous orgies and blasphemous revels were witnessed, testifying to the anti-Catholic hatred of the populace. The beautiful chapel which had been built with such high hopes only a few years earlier was sacked, and the ornaments, pictures, and vestments destroyed, except such of the latter as Martin carried off for his mistress. The picture by the brush of Rubens which adorned the High Altar was wantonly spoiled; the seat of the Queen was broken up with peculiar violence. Outside in the garden some of the rough soldiers played at ball with the heads of a Christ and of a St. Francis, while others indoors trod underfoot the escutcheons of Henry IV and his wife, which were kept for use on their anniversaries. Only one consolation had the unhappy Fathers. Such a scene would not have been complete without its miracle, and they had the satisfaction of tracing the hand of Providence in the blindness of their spoilers to a small box of consecrated hosts hidden away in a cupboard, whose contents were turned upside down by rough hands of the mob. Henrietta's wrath may be imagined when she heard of this fresh insult offered, not only to her but to her parents and to her country under whose protection the Capuchins lived. It probably outweighed the grief she felt for the destruction of her beautiful chapel. As for her husband, he was so incensed that he is said to have specially excluded from pardon all those concerned in the riot. Again, just as the Queen entered Oxford, another trouble fell upon her, which was another proof of the remorseless hatred of the Puritans. Edmund Waller, who in happier days had made verses to her charms, raised a plot in London in the King's interest. It was discovered, and among its victims was a faithful servant of Henrietta, Master Tomkins, who, condemned by "a new counsell of war (consisting of Kimbolton, Mainwaring, Venn, the Devill, and a few others),"[296] was executed outside his own door in Holborn by the common hangman.