Henrietta Maria, Queen, consort of Charles I, King of England, 1609-1669
On September the 14th the foundation-stone was laid. The site of the new
building, which was the tennis courtyard of Somerset House, was fitted up
as a temporary church with tapestries for walls and stuffs of great price
for roof. A large and brilliant company, numbering at least two thousand
persons, was present, while at the beautifully decked altar stood M. du
Perron to sing a Mass, which was accompanied by rare voices and choice
instrumental music, and at which the attendant ceremonies were so
magnificent that a Frenchman who happened to be present confessed[124] that
nothing more splendid could be seen at Notre-Dame de Paris, even when a
King of France honoured that cathedral with his presence. The Mass ended,
Henrietta stepped forward, handed by her brother's ambassador, M. de
Fontenay-Mareuil, to whom the establishment of the Capuchins was so largely
due. A trowel delicately fringed with velvet was offered to her, together
with mortar served in a silver-gilt bowl. Thrice she threw the mortar on to
the stone of foundation, which was then lowered into its place, bearing on
a plate an inscription telling how she, the Queen of England and the
daughter of France, had founded this temple for the honour of Catholicism
and for the use of her servants the Capuchin Fathers.
This was one of Henrietta's brightest days, in which she tasted the joy her
disappointed life knew so seldom, of seeing a happy result of her works and
prayers. It began by a devout confession and reception of the Eucharist. It
ended with cannon and fireworks and every sign of public rejoicing. So
cordial seemed the attitude of the London populace that the rosiest hopes
for the future were entertained, specially by the French,[125] who would
have welcomed the conversion of England by a French Queen as a delicate
triumph, not only over the heretic, but over the Spaniard.[126] These
sanguine persons did not go about in the streets and taverns of the city to
hear, under the official rejoicings, the curses, "not loud but deep," of
the Puritan citizens.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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