The following article concerns a controversial, and quite unknown, Cause of Canonisation. Reactions towards it may be instinctive, depending on one’s view of the historical record, and it seems important to caution against such reactions. The historical context is just that - it doesn’t necessarily reflect the fidelity to God that may have been present, nor does it disqualify the Cause. What it does do is situate it within an interesting period of history, and help us to understand certain aspects of Christian virtue in a better way.
James Stuart was born on the 14th October 1633, to Charles I, king of Scotland and of England, and his wife Henrietta Maria. His mother was the daughter of the French king, Louis XIII. From an early period in his life, there was Civil War across Britain, and this culminated in the execution of his father Charles, in 1649. From then on, the Stuarts were forced to remain in French exile. During this period, James was involved in the military, and almost built a career for himself in this way. As it happened, the crown was restored to his brother in 1660, who became Charles II. James returned to London, where he settled once more.
At this juncture in his life, we find quite a revealing aspect to James’ moral character. In 1659, he engaged in an affair with Anne Hyde, promising he would marry her when the time came. She fell pregnant, and James announced his engagement to her, after the Restoration in 1660. Despite strong opposition, the couple married in secret, before having an official ceremony later that year. They had eight children together, although six died in infancy. Two of their daughters went on to become Queens in their own right: Mary II and Anne. The important point is that we see here a side to James that indicates a loyalty and faithfulness, to a degree that was unusual among his peers.
It is true that James had extramarital affairs, notably with Arabella Churchill and Catherine Sedley. Of his illegitimate children, two died in infancy, and four went on to marry and to have children of their own. One daughter, Arabella FitzJames, became a Nun, dedicating her life to Christ. Although we might rightly judge these affairs as immoral, James’ marriage remained intact, and the couple seem to have remained close. Indeed, we know that Anne Hyde had her last child by James only around a month before her own death.
We could go into more detail concerning the political career of James, but suffice it to say that he continued to work within the English Court, until his accession to the throne in 1685 as James VII & II. His reign was brief, lasting only 3 years, but it was turbulent. One of the most challenging parts of his reign was to suppress the revolt of his nephew (the illegitimate son of Charles II) James Scott, Duke of Monmouth. At the end of this difficult period, he felt forced to condemn Monmouth to death, and we may perhaps sense one of the more tragic events of his reign. To be sure, Scott had fought against his father, and against his uncle, with the full intent of having them killed. Nevertheless, the episode highlights the unfortunate circumstances of the Stuart family, and perhaps the consequences of its excesses. James appears to refer to this rebellion in his Mediations, where he says:
‘Impute not to me, O Lord, the blood of my subjects, which with infinite unwillingness and grief hath been shed by me in my just and necessary defence, but wash me with that precious Blood which hath been shed for me by my great Peace-maker, Jesus Christ.’
These words are revealing of his humanity, and perhaps of some regret regarding the harsh measures he felt obliged to take.
In any case, James had married the Italian princess, Mary of Modena, by whom he had twelve children, in 1673. Many of these children died young, but a son was born to the couple in 1688. His name was James Francis Edward Stuart, and since he would become a Catholic heir to the throne, resistance grew to James’ reign. James was forced out of Britain later that year, and after putting up a fight in Ireland, he eventually was forced into exile again. The rest of this history culminates with the well-known Jacobite rebellions of 1715, and of 1745. James was now exiled in the castle of St. Germain-en-Laye. It was during this period that people began remarking on his piety. By most accounts, he had a strong devotion to the Holy Eucharist, and attended Mass regularly. He also accepted the reality of his situation in good faith, and his Meditations attest to quite an introspective character.
After his death on the 16th September 1701, there was some interest in his possible Canonisation. His son, who now took the name James VIII & III, was keen to see his father Canonised. This might make us sceptical, as it wouldn’t be the first time that political interests had sought to use the Church for their own glorification. However, there does seem to be a genuine case - miracles were soon reported at James’ provisional tomb in Paris, with the English Benedictines. These continued for some years, and the Archbishop of Paris formally opened the Cause for Canonisation in 1734. From then on, he became a Servant of God, the first step towards Canonisation. Following on from this, it was the Benedictines who continued to take an interest in James’ potential sanctity and this seems to have continued until the French Revolution.
At this point, it is entirely understandable that the Cause was gradually forgotten: the French Revolution caused upheaval throughout the country, and forced the Church to the margins. There were more pressing matters than Canonisation. However, there were always some people who knew about the Cause, or who admired James’ character. Hilaire Belloc, the famous 19th century Catholic writer, praised James for his conviction. Historians more generally began disputing how James should be interpreted, and there was a change in the orthodoxy that had denounced James VII outright.
In 1984, Geoffrey Scott OSB published a text discussing the Cause with the Royal Stuart Society. Later, in 2019, Charles Coulombe published a short article in the Catholic Herald on the same subject. Personally speaking, I only heard about it upon coming to Paris to study Theology, supported by the FCE which is in continuity with the old Scots College. This college was a centre of Jacobitism, and an incarnation of the Auld Alliance, but it was also a place in which future Priests were trained and sent out on mission. James generously supported the institution, and became part of its history, which continues into the present day. In the chapel of St. Andrew, at the old College building, there was housed a Relic of James VII - specifically, his brain, since the College was a place of study!
At some point, in the 19th century, this Relic were given to the Scottish Bishops, and it seems to have been lost since then. However, Relics may also be found in the Church of St. Germain-en-Laye, at one of the side Altars dedicated to James. It is quite likely that Masses were celebrated on this Altar for his soul. Incidentally, it had a picture of the late Queen placed on top of it alongside some flowers, shortly after her death in 2022.
All of this made it seem quite interesting, and there was also the history of Jacobitism, which had a lasting effect on Scottish Catholicism. With family roots from South Uist, this history is often quite palpable. Whatever we may think of the wisdom behind the Jacobite rebellions, the rising of 1745 certainly revivified Catholicism in the north of Scotland. It helped Scottish Catholics, many of whom were victims of the Highland Clearances, to maintain a sense of identity, and a continuity with their history. This was all in James’ name, even if he died before these events took place.
If we could summarise, James VII is notable for many reasons. During his lifetime, he was quite free-spirited, and he appears to have lived more authentically than some of his peers. His marriage was borne out of what seems to have been genuine love, and he is said to have been close with his children, playing with them as any good father would. In general, his life was one of upheaval, and his political career was fraught with difficulties. Monmouth’s rebellion, and the events of 1688, were probably among the most challenging periods for him. In France, he nevertheless continued to have a genuine faith, and to engage in continued introspection. He was generous to the Church, and maintained a lively Catholicism. Some might consider his entire story as one of naivety - this point is interesting, since it detracts from the idea that he was a corrupt politician. In fact, he seems to have acted according to his own conscience, without the political tactfulness that may have been necessary to secure his reign.
The Cause remains as it is, but there has been renewed interest among a small group of faithful Catholics. More work will be required to investigate it further, and to build interest.
By Anthony MacIssac