It was therefore the greater disappointment when the persecution of 1625 fell. Nor was it a slight and passing storm. Never, even in the days of Edward VI or Elizabeth, had the Catholics been in such evil case, except that the death penalty, to which the King had an invincible repugnance, was not exacted.[113] But the most loyal of laymen, such as the Marquis of Winchester, suffered in their goods, while the prisons became veritable cloisters of religious. It is not surprising that the persecuted contrasted the peace and security of the days of mere negotiations with Spain with the misery brought about by a consummated marriage with France, or that Richelieu and his emissaries in England ground their teeth with rage to see those whom they had hoped to capture flung back again into the arms of His Catholic Majesty. Henrietta herself, though much distressed, did not despair. She had already discovered that her husband was naturally inclined to mercy, and she knew that persecution was to a great extent a financial expedient to fill the empty coffers of the State. Young as she was, she understood the task to which, religiously speaking, her marriage had called her,[114] for the performance of which the papal dispensation had been granted, and of which the importance had been impressed upon her by her mother, by Bérulle, and by the Bishop of Mende, all of whom saw in her another Bertha who was to effect a new conversion of England. Even in the dark days of April, 1626, she did not falter. She was praying, she wrote to the Pope, who had honoured her with a Brief, not only that she might stand firm in the true religion, but that also she might "procure all the peace and comfort which I can for the Catholics of the Kingdoms, hoping that the natural goodness of the King my Lord, touched by a holy inspiration and by my ardent prayers, will produce some sweet and favourable effect for their comfort. And although up to now there has been little fruit of my endeavours, yet I promise myself that my persevering constancy, aided by divine assistance, will not always be useless to them."[115] The first step towards a better state of things was the reconstruction of the Queen's religious establishment which had been so abruptly broken up. Charles was at first quite obdurate to the requests of the French Government, and refused not only to receive a Bishop as Grand Almoner,[116] but even to entertain the idea of the establishment of a religious Order in England. But in this case, as in many others, he was talked over. Years before, in Spain, he had been acquainted with some Capuchin Fathers who had impressed him by their good sense and piety. The Order was a humble one, not likely to mix in politics, and eventually he intimated that he would be willing to receive some of its members in the capacity of chaplains to his wife.