AS Charles’s courtiers and clergy were bustling out through one door, Fr Huddleston, disguised with a wig, slipped in by another.

‘Sir,’ said James to his brother, ‘this good man once saved your life. He now comes to save your soul.’

To receive an honest Englishman into the Popish religion was a hanging offence, but there in the royal bedchamber the monk heard Charles’s confession, and asked if he wished to receive communion. ‘If I am not unworthy’, was the reply. A glass of water was called for, as Charles found swallowing the dry bread difficult.

When his courtiers were readmitted, they found the King more cheerful, and eager to welcome his children - none of them eligible to inherit his crown - to his bedside for a blessing.

That was late in the evening. At sunrise on Friday, February 6th, the King, with apologies for keeping everyone waiting all night, asked for the curtains to be opened, and took his last look at the day.