Queen Henrietta Maria was received with all kindness in England, which she found in such a fever of loyalty as to make it quite needless to think of the dowry of Mazarin's niece. The ever-fickle populace welcomed her with joy which made it difficult to believe that she had even been unpopular. Her dowry was restored to her, and her son rewarded his mother's faithful servants. Jermyn, whose advocacy of the Duchess of York had not perhaps been quite disinterested, received the title of Earl of St. Albans; and Montagu no doubt might also have obtained the recompense of his fidelity had he not by now regarded France and the Church as a truer _patria_ than his own country. As Grand Almoner to the Queen he presided over her ecclesiastical establishment, which was again settled at Somerset House, whither the Capuchin Fathers had returned to carry on a vigorous religious campaign, in which their superior, Father Cyprien,[424] who preached sermons "to touch the heart of demons," took an active part. The palace had been much knocked about during the war, and it was one of Henrietta's pleasures to restore it to its former beauty, an achievement which her old admirer, Sir William Waller, celebrated in smooth, polished verses of the type which was rapidly ousting the literary fashions of an earlier day. The Queen showed a surprising memory for the persons and things of the past, and delighted her son's courtiers by the graceful tact with which she recalled their circumstances and asked after their wives and families. But she was not very happy. Probably she felt the loss of her former political influence. Certainly she felt all the bitterness of returning a lonely and widowed old woman to the scenes of her happy married life. Sometimes, when all was bright around her, she would be found in some retired corner, where, with eyes full of tears, she was dwelling in thought upon the happy days of the past, and thinking of him to whom her will had been law.