Chapter XVIII: JAMES I. (concluded) (4)

During the recess the king performed an act calculated to conciliate the Commons. By the advice, as it was said, of Williams, the Lord Keeper, he had abolished thirty-seven of the most oppressive of the patents and monopolies, of which the Commons had so long complained. But the effect of this was totally neutralised by other measures of a contrary tendency. Complaints had been made of the growing audacity of the Algerine pirates, who had not only seized several English merchant ships in the Mediterranean, but even on the British coast. James requested Spain, which also was a sufferer from these robbers, to join in an expedition to burn all their ships and destroy Algiers itself. Sir Robert Monsell was sent with a squadron for this purpose, but the Spaniards did not join him, and he was said to have a royal order not to risk his ships. Under such circumstances, nothing very vigorous was to be expected, yet on the 24th of May Monsell sailed up to the fort, and the sailors set fire to the ships and then retired. No attack was made on the town, and the firing of the vessels was so imperfectly done, that the Algerines soon put out the flames, and threw booms across the harbour to prevent the re-entrance of the English. Only two of the pirate vessels were consumed, and the Algerines, like a swarm of hornets irritated in their nest but not injured, rushed forth soon afterwards in such force and fury, that they speedily captured no less than five-and-thirty English merchantmen. Loud and bitter were the complaints in the country of this worse than useless proceeding.

To add to the ill-humour generated by this imbecile transaction, the public had been greatly incensed by the arrest of a number of liberal-minded men--the Earls of Oxford and Southampton, Sutcliffe, Dean of Exeter, Brise, a Puritan preacher, Sir Christopher Neville, Sir Edward Sandys, and Selden, the great lawyer and antiquary; and a prosecution had been commenced against Sir Edward Coke, on no less than eleven charges of misdemeanour during the time that he was a judge. Coke, unlike Bacon, had amassed great wealth during his official life, and it was understood that these charges of peculation and bribery had been got up at the suggestion of Bacon and Coke's own wife, Lady Hatton.

The Commons took up zealously the cause of their members, Sandys and Coke. Sandys had been examined on some secret charge before the Council, and after a month's detention was discharged. Being confined to his bed at the commencement of the Session, two members were appointed to wait on him and learn the cause of his arrest, notwithstanding the assurance of the Secretary of State that it had no connection with his conduct in the House. They also ordered the Serjeant-at-Arms to take into custody the accusers of Coke, and appointed a committee to examine witnesses. They felt assured that the proceedings against these gentlemen originated with their popular conduct in Parliament.

At the same time, Coke, in the Commons, proposed a petition to the king against the increase of Popery and the marriage of the Prince of Wales to a Catholic. It represented that the success in Germany against the Elector Palatine had so encouraged the Papists, that they flocked in crowds to the chapels of the foreign ambassadors; sent their children abroad for education, and were treated with so much lenity that, if not prevented, they would soon again be in the ascendant. Spain was represented, without directly naming it, as the worst enemy of England, and the king was implored to recall all the children of Catholic noblemen and gentlemen from abroad, to marry his son to a Protestant princess, and to enforce the laws with rigour against the Papists.

James received a private copy of this petition, and was thrown into a paroxysm of rage at its perusal. To dictate to him how he should marry his son; to recommend that he should invade the territories of Spain, and to reflect on the honour of his ally, the Spanish king, were examples of intolerable interference with his dearly valued prerogative. He wrote at once to the Speaker, denouncing certain "fiery, popular, and turbulent spirits" in the House, and desiring them not to concern themselves about such matters as were included in the petition. Adverting to Sandys, he denied that his offence was connected with the House of Commons, but at the same time declared that the Crown possessed a right to punish subjects, whether members of Parliament or not, and would not fail to exercise it.

The House received this missive with much dissatisfaction, but with dignity, and vindicated their right of liberty of speech in a firm memorial. James replied that though their privileges were no undoubted right, but were derived from the grace of his ancestors on the throne, yet so long as they kept them within the limits of duty, he should not exercise his prerogative and withdraw those privileges. The House declared its high resentment at this language, which reduced their right into mere matter of royal favour, and the expression of feeling ran so high that James became alarmed, and wrote to Secretary Calvert, instructing him to qualify his assertions a little. But the House was not thus to be satisfied where the question of its privileges was directly raised, and on the 18th of December it drew up the following protest:--"That the liberties and jurisdictions of Parliament are the most ancient and undoubted birthright and inheritance of the subjects of England; that arduous and urgent affairs concerning the king, the State, and defence of the realm, and the Church of England, the making and maintenance of laws, and the redress of grievances, are proper subjects of counsel and debate in Parliament; that in the handling of these businesses every member hath and ought to have freedom of speech; that the Commons in Parliament have like liberty to treat of these matters in such order as they think proper; that every member hath like freedom from all impeachment, imprisonment, and molestation, other than by the censure of the House itself, concerning any Bill, speaking or reasoning touching Parliament matters; and that if any be complained of for anything said or done in Parliament, the same is to be showed to the king by assent of the Commons before the king give evidence to any private information."

This was speaking out; the Parliament threw down the gage and James, in his wrath, took it up. Forgetting that he was represented as ill, he rode up to London in a fury and ordered the clerk of the Commons to bring him the Journals of the House. According to Rushworth, he tore out the obnoxious protest with his own hands, in full Council, and in presence of the judges; at all events he cancelled it; had what he had done entered in the Council-book; and on the 6th of January, 1622, by an insulting proclamation, dissolved Parliament, assuring the public that it was on account of its evil temper that he had dissolved the House of Commons, and not with any intention of doing without one; that he should soon call another; and in the meantime the country might rest assured that he would endeavour to govern well.

The first proof of his notions of governing well was the summoning of the Earls of Oxford and Southampton from the House of Peers, of Coke, Philip, Pym, and Mallory from the Commons, and of Sir John Selden, to appear before the Council. Some were committed to the Tower, some to the Fleet, and others to the custody of private individuals. Though nothing in either House could have occasioned these arrests, various reasons were assigned for them. Moreover, Selden was not a member of the Commons, and he therefore could have incurred no blame there. But he was the legal adviser of Sandys and others, who had made themselves prominent in the popular cause, and he was known as one of the ablest legal advocates of Parliamentary and public rights. The two Peers were also at the head of a popular party which had sprung up in the Lords, and the whole matter was too palpable for mistake. Nothing could, however, be fixed on any of the prisoners which the Government dared to charge as a crime, and after a sharp rebuke they were liberated. There were still other members whose conduct had excited the anger of the Court, but against whom no specific charge could be established. These were Sir Dudley Digges, Sir James Parrott, Sir Nathaniel Rich, and Sir Thomas Carew. To punish them a singular mode was devised. They were appointed to a commission in Ireland to inquire into the state of the army and navy, into the condition of the Church and of public schools, into the abuses in the collection of revenue and in the settlement of the plantations, and into the existence of illegal and mischievous patents. As it was extremely inconvenient for these gentlemen to absent themselves on such business, they protested decidedly against it; but they were told that the king had a right to the services of his subjects, in any way that he pleased; and though these gentlemen had stood boldly with their fellows in a collective capacity for the rights of the subject, they were not sufficiently screwed up to the pitch of martyrdom to stand upon their individual freedom, and refuse at all costs. Coke, who had now taken the lead in the popular cause, because the Court had repelled and dismissed him, offered to accompany them, and assist them with his legal advice and experience, but his offer was declined. The subjects of inquiry, of themselves, were of a nature to furnish much strength and information to the reformers, and the mode of punishing these men was as short-sighted as it was arbitrary. But the great contest was now fully begun, in which the blindness and tyranny of the Stuarts, and the firm intelligence of the people, were to fight out the grand question of constitutional government. Those who regard this as a matter only of Charles I.'s reign have strangely overlooked the doings and doctrines of James, who was the real author of the conflict, and opened it himself with all the dogmatism which distinguished the royal side to the end. This very session Prince Charles had been a diligent attender of the House of Lords, but seems to have had no perception whatever of the spirit which was dominant in the House of Commons, and rapidly diffusing its electric fire through the nation. The names of Pym, Coke, Wentworth, and Laud, were already in men's mouths, the heralds of that mighty host, which, for good or for evil, was soon to engage in terrible combat; the issue of which was to be the morning-star of governmental science to the nations, determining the true powers, uses, and limitations of governments, as well as the liberty of the people protected, by its own popular safeguards, from licence and anarchy.

In foreign affairs James was placed in particular difficulties. The two objects which he had more than all others at heart, were the marriage of his son, the Prince of Wales, to the Infanta of Spain, and the restoration of the Elector Palatine to his hereditary possessions. He had tried too late to secure the Princess Christine of France. She was already affianced to Philip of Spain. He had since negotiated for the hand of Donna Maria of Spain. If he could accomplish this marriage, he should be at once able to secure by it his other grand desire--the restoration of the Palsgrave,--for Spain would then be induced to withdraw its forces from the assistance of the Emperor against the Palatinate, and to add its earnest co-operation in arranging for the Palsgrave's re-instatement.

But against this project of marriage--the stepping-stone to these measures in Germany--stood the aversion of the people in England to a match with so pronouncedly Catholic a country as Spain, and so bigoted a family as that of its Sovereign. Just as adverse were the Spaniards, and especially the priests, to the young Infanta coming into a heretical country, and to any impediment thrown in the way of the Emperor of Germany exterminating the Protestants there. During the life of Philip III., the father of Donna Maria, little progress was made in these negotiations, but on the accession of his son Philip IV., in 1621, the prospect brightened. Both James and Charles wrote to the new king and his favourite Olivarez. In England Gondomar, the Spanish minister, was warmly in favour of the alliance, seeing in it a guarantee for the relief of the Catholics and of increased strength against France. Lord Digby, now Earl of Bristol, late ambassador at Madrid, was equally zealous for the marriage; and James was the more eager for it as he saw no hope of aid in his German project from France. There the feeble monarch, Louis XIII., was wholly in the hands of a despicable favourite, De Luynes, who was insolently opposed to the English interests, though the French people, from the hereditary hatred of the house of Austria, would have gladly marched against the invaders of the Palatinate.

The affairs of Frederick, the Elector Palatine, were desperate. The Palatinate, in fact, was already lost. Count Mansfeldt--the ablest general who had fought for the Elector's interests--and the Prince Christian of Brunswick, had evacuated the Palatinate; Heidelberg and Mannheim were in the hands of the enemy; and these generals had entered the service of the Dutch. The Emperor, in reward for the successful services of Maximilian of Bavaria, had conferred on him the Electorate of the Palatinate with the greater part of the territory.

James himself, to get rid of the maintenance of the garrison, had given up Frankenthal to the Spaniards, on condition that if, within eighteen months, a satisfactory peace were not made, it should be returned. Everything, therefore, was lost, and James fondly hoped that the Spanish match might yet recover everything.

Circumstances appeared to favour his hopes. The young King of Spain and his minister, Olivarez, responded cordially to James's proposal; Gondomar hastened on to Madrid to promote the object, and was soon followed by the Earl of Bristol, equally earnest for the accomplishment of the marriage. It was, however, necessary to procure a dispensation for this union from the Pope, and this the King of Spain undertook to procure through his ambassador at Rome. James was not to appear at all in the affair, but with the unconquerable propensity to be meddling personally in every negotiation, he could not help despatching George Gage, a Catholic, with letters to the Pontiff, as well as to the Cardinals Ludovisio and Bandini; and Buckingham, to complete the intercession, sent Bennet, a Catholic priest, on the same errand.

The Pope was not likely to grant the favour to James without a _quid pro quo_, and therefore, as might have been expected, replied that the canons of the Church could only be suspended for the benefit of the Church; that the King of England had been very liberal of his promises to the late King of Spain, but had performed nothing; he must now give proof of his sincerity by relieving the English Catholics from the pressure of his penal laws, and the request would be accorded. This was a demand _in limine_ which would have shown to any prudent monarch the dangerous path he was entering upon; but James trusted to his tortuous art of king-craft, and rashly set to work to undo all that he had done throughout his reign against the Catholics. He caused an order under the Great Seal to be issued, granting pardons to all recusants who should apply for them within five years; and the judges were commanded to discharge from prison those who gave security for their compliance with these terms.

There was a glad and universal acceptance of the proffered lenity by the Catholics. The doors of the prisons were opened, and the astonished Puritans saw thousands on thousands of the dreaded Papists once more coming abroad. There was instantly a cry of terror and indignation from John O'Groat's to the Land's End. The pulpits resounded with the execrations of enthusiastic preachers on the traitorous dealing of the Court, and the depicted horrors of Catholic and Spanish ascendency. James trembled, but ordered the Lord Keeper Williams and the Bishop of London to assure the public that he was only seeking to gain better treatment for the Protestants abroad, whom the Continental princes declared they would punish with the same rigour as James had punished the Catholics in England, unless the British severity was somewhat mitigated; and that, moreover, there was no danger; for the recusants, though out of prison, had still the shackles about their heels, and could at any moment be remanded. This, without satisfying the Puritans, undid all confidence amongst the Catholics. They recalled the habitual duplicity of James and felt no longer any security; and when Gondomar boasted in Spain that four thousand Catholics had been released in England, those Catholics only remarked, "Yes; but we have still the shackles about our heels, and may at any moment be thrust again into our dungeons."

His only consolation was that the Spanish match now seemed really to progress. On the 5th of January, 1623, the twenty articles securing the freedom of her worship to the Infanta in England, the cessation of persecution of the Catholics, and the exercise of their religious rites in their own houses, were signed by James and Prince Charles. The dower of the princess was to be two millions of ducats. The espousals were to take place at Madrid by proxy, within forty days from the receipt of the dispensation; and the princess was to set out for England within three weeks. The time for the final consummation of the marriage, and the intervals between the several payments of the dower, were all fixed, and Gondomar and Bristol congratulated themselves on the completion of their arduous negotiation.

At this crisis, however, arrived two Englishmen at the Earl of Bristol's residence at Madrid, under the names of John and Thomas Smith. To the ambassador's astonishment and chagrin, on appearing before him, they turned out to be no other than the Prince of Wales and Buckingham, who had arrived in disguise, and with only three attendants. But how this extraordinary and imprudent journey had come about requires to be told with some detail. It was said to have originated with Gondomar; it had been planned on his visit to London the preceding summer, and had since been stimulated by his letters. He is declared to have represented to the prince, who complained of delay, that all obstacles would vanish at once if he were to suddenly appear and press his own suit. The idea caught the imagination of the prince, and was warmly seconded by Buckingham, who not only longed to seek adventures among the beauties of Madrid, but also hoped to snatch the achievement of the match out of the hands of Bristol, whom he hated. If it were really the scheme of the wily Spaniard, he must have prided himself greatly on its success; a success, however, which produced its own ruin.

When the plan was first opened to James by Charles and Buckingham, he gave in to them without hesitation so much did he desire to have the affair settled. But on thinking it over alone, he was immediately sensible of the danger and the impolitic character of the enterprise. He therefore begged the prince and the favourite to give it up, pointing out, with great justice, how much they would put themselves in the power of the Spaniards, what advantages they would give them over them, and what a storm of anger and alarm would break out at home as soon as it became known. The two knights-errant bade him dismiss his fears, saying that all would go well and that they had selected Sir Francis Cottington and Sir Endymion Porter to attend them. James approved their choice, but commanded Cottington to tell him plainly what he thought of the project. Cottington, who did not seem yet to have been let into the secret, on hearing it, was much agitated and declared that it was a rash and perilous adventure; whereupon James threw himself upon his bed in an agony, crying--"I told you so; I told you so before. I shall be undone, and lose baby Charles." The prince and Buckingham were furious at the behaviour of Cottington, and handled him severely; but after all, James, with his usual weakness, gave his consent, and the travellers set forward on the 17th of February, 1623, and after an adventurous journey arrived at their destination.

Lord Bristol had despatched a messenger immediately on the prince reaching his house, informing the king that his son and friend were safe in Madrid, after a journey of sixteen days. Meanwhile, strange rumours began to run about the Spanish capital that some great man from England had arrived, supposed to be the king himself; and it was deemed best to make the fact known to the Court. Accordingly they sent for Gondomar, who hurried off to Court with the welcome news. There were first private but stately interviews, and then a public reception. The prince was first privately conducted to the Monastery of St. Jerome, from which the Spanish kings proceed to their coronation, and was then brought back publicly by the king, his two brothers, and the _élite_ of the Spanish nobility. Charles rode at the king's right hand through the whole city to the palace, when he was conducted to the apartments appropriated to him. He had then a formal introduction to the queen and Infanta. Charles had two keys of gold given him, by which he could pass into the royal apartments at all hours, yet Spanish etiquette did not allow him to converse with the Infanta except in public. Tired of this restraint, Charles determined to break through the Court formality, and speak unceremoniously with his proposed wife; wherefore, hearing that Donna Maria used to go to the Casa de Campo on the other side of the river to gather Maydew, he rose early and went thither also. He passed through the house and garden, but found that the princess was in the orchard, and between him and her a high wall, and the door strongly bolted. Without further ceremony he got over the wall, dropped down, and seeing the princess at a distance, hastened towards her. But the princess, on perceiving him, gave a shriek and ran off; and the old marquis, her guardian, falling on his knees before the prince, entreated him to retire, as he should lose his head if he permitted the interview. Accordingly he let him out and rebolted the door.

Great were the public rejoicings, however, on account of this chivalric visit. The king professed to feel himself much complimented by the reliance of the English prince on the Spanish honour, on the earnestness it evinced in the prosecution of his suit; and the people as firmly calculated on his conversion to the Catholic faith. The prisons were thrown open; presents and favours were heaped upon him, the king insisted on his taking precedence of himself, and assured him that any petition which he presented to him for a whole month should be granted. There were bull-fights, tournaments, fencing matches, feasts, and religious processions, held in his honour and for his amusement.

But at home, dire was the consternation when it was known that Charles had gone off with slight attendance to Spain. It was stoutly declared that he would never escape alive from amongst the inquisitions and monks of that priest-ridden country, or if he did, it would only be as a Papist. The freedom of comment on the occasion in the pulpits caused James to issue an order through the Bishop of London that the clergy should not in their prayers "prejudicate the prince's journey, but only pray to God to return him home in safety again to us, and no more." Whereupon a preacher, with an air of great simplicity, prayed that the prince might return in safety again, and _no more_--that is, as it was understood, without a Catholic wife. Yet to pacify his subjects, the king informed them that he had sent after them two Protestant chaplains, together with all the stuff and ornaments fit for the service of God. And he added, "I have fully instructed them, so as all their behaviour and service shall, I hope, prove decent and agreeable to the purity of the primitive Church, and yet so near the Roman form as can lawfully be done. For," says this stern persecutor of Catholicism, "it hath ever been my way to go with the Church of Rome _usque ad aras_."

In so very complying a mood was James at this moment, that when these chaplains asked him what they were to do if they met the Host in the streets, he replied they must avoid meeting it whenever they could; when they could not, they must do as the people did there. And poor James soon found that he had need of all his moral pliability. The Spanish Court, as might have been foreseen, once having the prince in their power, resolved to benefit by it. They soon let the prince and Buckingham know that the Pope made grave difficulty about the dispensation, and the Papal nuncio was sternly set against it, and it was inquired how far the prince could go in concession. Buckingham wrote, therefore, to the king in these ominous words:--"We would gladly have your directions how far we may engage you in the acknowledgment of the Pope's special power, for we almost find, if you will be contented to acknowledge the Pope chief head under Christ, that the match will be made without him."

This was asking everything and James was brought to a stand. He wrote in reply that he did not know what they meant by acknowledging the Pope's spiritual supremacy. He was sure they would not have him renounce his religion for all the world. "Perhaps," he wrote, "you allude to a passage in my book against Cardinal Bellarmine, where I say that if the Pope would quit his godhead and usurping over kings, I would acknowledge him for chief bishop, to whom all appeals of Churchmen ought to lie _en dernier ressort_. That is the farthest my conscience would permit me to go; for I am not a monsieur who can shift his religion as easily as he can shift his shirt when he cometh from tennis."

That Buckingham would have advised Charles to abandon his religion for the achievement of his object, had he dared, there is little question, for his mother was an avowed Papist and was his constant prompter in his policy. Before leaving London, the two adventurers had obtained the king's solemn promise in writing, that whatever they agreed to with the Spanish monarch he would ratify; so that James might well be alarmed at their suggestion. Charles, in fact, did not hesitate, in reply to a letter from the Pope, to pledge himself to abstain from every act hostile to the Catholic religion, and to seek every opportunity of accomplishing the reunion of the Church of England with that of Rome. The letter--which, Lord Clarendon truly says, "is, by your favour, more than a compliment"--may be seen in the Hardwicke papers. Charles afterwards said that it was only a promise that he never meant to keep; we may therefore see that already his father's notions of king-craft had taken full possession of him, which, with his large self-esteem and a persevering disposition, produced in him that fatal mixture of determination and unscrupulous insincerity which ruined him. Instead of a firm resistance to the palpable schemes of the Pope and the Spaniard, and a truthful candour which would have convinced them that they had no chance of moving him, he led them by his apparent acquiescence to believe that they could win him over; and when they had carried him beyond the bounds of prudence, and much beyond those of honesty, he had no alternative but to steal away and repudiate his own solemn words and acts. Is it at all to be wondered at that neither foreign nations nor his own could ever after put faith in him? The sophistry and absolutism of the father had already destroyed the son, by perverting his moral constitution. It is probable that Charles also acquired a strong taste for ecclesiastical pomp and circumstance during this visit and its religious shows and ceremonies, which falling in afterwards with the ambitious taste of Laud, also tended to direct him towards the same "_facilis descensus Averni_."

James had despatched after the prince a great number of people, to form a becoming attendance on the heir of England. Others flocked thither of their own accord and especially Catholic refugees, who swarmed in the prince's court, and particularly about Buckingham. The Jesuits did their best to convert them, and were encouraged by every appearance of success. Though James had sent what he called the "stuff and ornaments" for public Protestant worship, we are informed that these were never used; for though the Prince had the Earl of Carlisle, and the Lords Mountjoy, Holland, Rochfort, Andover, Denbigh, Vaughan, and Kensington, besides a number of other courtiers and their dependents around him, they had no public worship, as if they were ashamed of their heretical faith, or feared to offend their Catholic friends. Charles contented himself with bed-chamber prayers. The consequence was, as Howell, who was there, wrote, that the Spaniards, hardly believing the English Christians and seeing no evidence of worship, set them down as little better than infidels. This occasioned great discontent amongst the more conscientious of the retinue, and they did not hesitate to avow their religious belief, and their contempt of the mummery which they saw around them, which led to much scandal and anger. Archie, or Archibald, Armstrong, the famous Court fool, whom oddly enough James had sent as well as the Church plate and vestments, seemed to think himself privileged by his office to say what he pleased, and he did not hesitate to laugh at the religious ceremonies, and argue on religious points with all the zeal of a Scottish Presbyterian, as he was. Others even proceeded to blows. Sir Edward Varney, finding a priest at the bedside of a sick Englishman, struck him under the ear and they fell to fighting till they were thrust asunder.

This state of things would not have been tolerated so near the Inquisition except for the great end in view--the belief that Charles would become a Catholic. Gregory XV. had written to the Inquisitor-General to this effect:--"We understand that the Prince of Wales, the King of Great Britain's son, is lately arrived there, carried with a hope of Catholic marriage. Our desire is that he should not stay in vain in the courts of those to whom the defence of the Pope's authority, and care of advancing religion, hath procured the renowned name of Catholic. Wherefore, by apostolic letters, we exhort his Catholic majesty that he would gently endeavour sweetly to reduce the prince to the obedience of the Roman Church, to which the ancient kings of Great Britain, with Heaven's approbation, submitted their crowns and sceptres. Now, to the attaining of this victory, which to the conquered promiseth triumphs and principalities of heavenly felicity, we need not exhaust the king's treasures, nor levy armies of furious soldiers, but we must fetch from heaven the armour of light, whose divine splendour may allure the prince's eye, and gently expel all errors from his mind. Now, in the managing of these businesses, what power and art you have, we have well known long ago; wherefore, we wish you to go like a religious counsellor to the Catholic king, and to try all ways which, by this present occasion, may benefit the kingdom of Britain and the Church of Rome. The matter is of great weight and moment, and therefore not to be amplified with words. Whoever shall inflame the mind of this royal youth with a love of the Catholic religion, and breed a hate in him of heretical impiety, shall begin to open the kingdom of heaven to the Prince of Britain, and to gain the kingdom of Britain to the Apostolic See."

It was easy to foresee that this absurd journey would lead to these determined attempts to regain the rich islands of Great Britain to the Catholic Church. The Catholics everywhere regarded the rupture to have been occasioned by Henry VIII.'s Protestant marriage, and nothing appeared so likely as that a Catholic marriage would heal it. It was not so easy to foresee that Charles, at the age of twenty-three, should so consummately act the hypocrite. He wrote to the Pope, in reply to a most gracious and paternal letter from his holiness, calling him "Most Holy Father," telling him how much he deplored the division of the Churches and longed to restore union. Gregory was dead before this extraordinary epistle arrived at Rome, but Urban VIII., the new Pope, lifted up his hands in joyful astonishment on reading it, and "gave thanks to the Father of Mercies, that on the very entrance of his reign a British prince performed this kind of obeisance to the Pope of Rome." Having apparently so favourable a subject to operate upon, Olivarez now told Charles that the treaty entered into through the Earl of Bristol had been rather for show than use, and that now, as the prince and his able adviser were there themselves, they should make a real and effective compact. Accordingly, in spite of the strenuous remonstrances of the two British ambassadors against re-opening the question already settled, Charles and Buckingham permitted it; and the Spanish minister found little difficulty in introducing several new and more favourable clauses. There was, in fact, a public and a private treaty agreed to. By the public one the marriage was to be celebrated in Spain and afterwards in England; the children were to remain in the care of their mother till ten years of age; the Infanta, was to have an open church and chapel for the free exercise of her religion, and her chaplains were to be Spaniards under the control of their own bishops. By the private treaty it was engaged that the penal laws against Catholics should be suspended; that Catholic worship should be freely performed in private houses; that no attempts should be made to entice the princess to abandon her hereditary faith; and that the king should swear to obtain the repeal of the penal Statutes by Parliament.

When this treaty was sent home, James was struck with consternation. He had pledged himself to Charles and Buckingham not to communicate any of their proceedings to the Council; but the present responsibility was overwhelming and he therefore opened his difficulty to the Council. After making what the Secretary of the Council calls "a most sad, fatherly, kind, wise, pious, manly, stout speech as ever was heard," the lords of the Council came to the conclusion, though reluctantly and with fear, that the prince's honour must be maintained and the oath to keep the treaty taken. This, however, was only the public treaty; James kept the private one to himself and swore to it separately.

Having got the English Court, as they supposed, thus secured, both the Pope and the Spaniard raised their heads still higher and showed that they meant to exact the utmost possible concession. In Spain the Papal dispensation for the marriage was already in the hands of the nuncio, but he refused to deliver it till the King of England, according to his oath, had obtained the repeal of the penal Statutes by Parliament; while in England James refused to go a step farther till the marriage was celebrated and the first instalment of the dower paid. When the king's resolve was known, it was conceded that the marriage should at once take place, but that the princess and the dower should remain in Spain till the stipulated indulgence to the English Catholics was obtained from Parliament. James refused this, and sent word that the marriage must be celebrated and the prince bring home his bride, or come without the wedding: this brought the Spaniards down a little. The ambassadors in London assured James that a royal proclamation would satisfy them, but he replied that a proclamation without the added sanction of Parliament was no law; that, however, he would issue an order for Catholic indulgence under the Great Seal. This they were obliged to be satisfied with; but when it came, to the Lord Keeper Williams, he refused to put the Great Seal to it, as a most dangerous act, without precedent.

As there was no prospect of a speedy settlement, Charles, who had probably grown tired of a princess surrounded by such a hedge of difficulties and delays, desired his father to send him an order for his recall. It would appear as if the prince had planned the mode of his retreat, for the preparations for the marriage of the Infanta proceeded, on the understanding that she was to continue in Spain till spring. James was apparently occupied in preparing grand wedding presents for the bride, and a small fleet to bring her home. This, if carried out, must have been very onerous to him; for he had already made doleful representations to Charles and Buckingham, of the exhaustion of his treasury by his remittance of five thousand pounds, and three thousand pounds for their "tilting stuff," &c. At Madrid the marriage articles were signed and confirmed by oath, the Infanta assumed the title of Princess of England, and had a Court formed of corresponding importance.

Never was the marriage so far off. Charles and Buckingham had resolved to steal away and abandon the whole affair. They felt that they were regularly entrapped through their folly; and other causes rendered a speedy exit necessary. Buckingham--vain, empty, and sensual--had given way without caution or control to his licentiousness and love of parade. To make him more fitting for the companion of his son, James had raised him to the rank of duke since his departure. His extravagance, his amours, his haughty bearing, and unceremonious treatment of both his own prince and the grandees of Spain, astonished all Madrid. He introduced the very worst people, men and women, into the palace, and would sit with his hat on when the prince himself was uncovered. His behaviour in the presence of the King of Spain was just as irreverent, and the minister Olivarez was so incensed at his insolence that he detested him. He had the soul of an upstart lackey under the title of a duke, and was never easy unless he could outshine all the grandees at the Spanish Court. He was perpetually importuning the king to supply orders, jewels, and money. Georges and garters were sent over in numbers to confer on different courtiers, and the constant cry of Buckingham's letters was "Jewels, jewels, jewels." He represented how rich the Spaniards were in jewels, and how poor those looked which they themselves already had. He described the prince as quite mean in his appearance, compared with the Spanish splendour. "Sir, he hath neither chain nor hatband, and I beseech you consider first how rich they are in jewels here; then in what a poor equipage he came in; how he hath no other means to appear like a king's son; how they are usefullest at such a time as this, when you may do yourself, your son, and the nation honour; and lastly, how it will neither cost nor hazard you anything. These reasons, I hope, since you have already ventured your chiefest jewel, your son, will serve to persuade you to let loose these more after him:--first, your best hatband, the Portugal diamond, the rest of the pendent diamonds to make up a necklace to give his mistress, and the best rope of pearl, with a rich chain or two for himself to wear, or else your dog must want a collar, which is the ready way to put him into it. There are many other jewels, which are of so mean quality as deserve not that name, but will save much in your purse, and serve very well for presents."

The prince quite aware that he had entangled himself in engagements that he could only keep at the risk of his father's crown, and Buckingham equally aware of the hatred which he had excited in a proud and vengeful nation, the two agreed to put the most honest possible face on the matter, and get away. Charles, therefore, presented his father's order for their return, and pledging himself to fulfil the marriage according to the articles; nay, appearing most eager for its accomplishment before Christmas, they were permitted to take their leave, loaded with valuable presents. The king gave the prince a set of fine Barbary horses, a number of the finest pictures by Titian and Correggio, a diamond-hilted sword and dagger, and various other arms of the richest fashion and ornament. The queen gave him a great many bags of amber, dressed kid-skins, and other articles; and Olivarez also presented him with a number of fine Italian pictures and costly articles of furniture. In return, Charles gave the king diamond-studded hilts for a sword and dagger, to the queen a pair of rich earrings, and to the Infanta the string of pearls recommended by Buckingham, to which was attached a diamond anchor, as an _emblem of his constancy_. He affected the utmost distress at leaving his bride even for a short time only, and the princess ordered a Mass for his safe journey home.

Never did appearances look more real, never were they more hollow. The Spaniards had endeavoured by every act, into which the sacred name of religion had been dragged, to make the most of their advantage in the presence of the prince, and to extort terms beyond the original contract; they were, therefore, properly punished. But nothing could justify the deep and deliberate falsehood, and repeated perjury of a young Protestant prince, whose conduct stamped a deep stain on his country and on Protestantism itself. The Protestants had long and loudly denounced the jesuitry of the Catholics, and asserted that no faith could be put in their most solemn engagements. Here, however, was a voluntary surrender of the pure and lofty morality of Protestantism, a willing abasement of its honour to the level of the worst Catholic duplicity. We shall see that the whole of Charles's conduct was lamentably in keeping with this unprincipled beginning.

Buckingham was impatient to be in England, from news which he had received that certain courtiers were busily at work in endeavouring to undermine his credit with the king. Behind him he left nothing but detestation, which Olivarez, the chief minister, took no pains to conceal. When the prince and he set out they were attended by the king himself, and a brilliant assemblage of the nobles, who added to the prince's presents a number of fine Andalusian horses and mules. They halted for several days at the Escurial, where they were splendidly entertained, and then the king rode on with them as far as Campillo. The parting of the affianced brothers-in-law was of the most affectionate kind, and the king ordered a column to be erected on the spot, as a lasting monument of it. So Charles rode on, attended by several nobles and entertained most honourably at their castles. He visited the cell of a celebrated nun at Carrion, who was held to be a saint, and to whom Donna Maria had given him a letter.

Arrived at the port where the English fleet was waiting for him, he no sooner stepped on board than he laughed at the credulity of the Spaniards, called them fools, and wondered at his easy escape from them. They landed at Portsmouth on the 5th of October, and there and all the way to and through London their reception was one piece of exultation at the safe return of the prince from the clutches of the dreaded Spaniards. The country resounded with the ringing of bells, the firing of cannon, the whizzing of fireworks, and the shouts of the people. The clergy, without waiting for royal orders, put up thanksgiving in the churches for the prince's happy arrival.

Meanwhile, the prince's perfidy was awaking the Spaniards from a trance of astonishment to a tempest of rage. From Segovia, he had sent back Clerk, a creature of Buckingham's, to the Earl of Bristol. Calculating that the Papal dispensation would by that time have arrived, Clerk was to hand to Bristol an order from the prince not to present the proxies left in his hands--which were to be given up immediately after the delivery of the dispensation--till he received further orders from home. The reason alleged by Charles was that he feared on the marriage by proxy the Infanta would retire into a convent. The idea was so absurd that Bristol saw at once that it was a mere pretence to break off the match. As his honour as well as the honour of the nation was implicated, he at once hastened to the king and laid the doubts of the prince before him. The astonishment of the king may be conceived. He had fixed the 29th of November for the espousals, the 29th of December for the marriage: orders for public rejoicings were already issued, a platform covered with tapestry was erected from the palace to the church, and the nobility had been summoned to attend. He gave Bristol every assurance that the princess should be delivered to the English without delay, and Bristol despatched these assurances in all haste to James. Meanwhile, the Countess Olivarez communicated privately to the Infanta the prince's message, at which she laughed heartily, saying that she never, in all her life, had a mind to be a nun, and thought she should hardly turn one now merely to avoid the Prince of Wales.

Only four days before the one appointed for the espousals, three couriers on the heels of each other arrived from England, bearing from James the message that he was perfectly willing for the marriage to proceed, on condition that the King of Spain pledged himself, under his own hand, to take up arms for the restoration of the Palatine and to fix the day for hostilities to commence. At an early period of the negotiation, Philip had declared that on the completion of the agreement for the marriage, he would give James a _carte blanche_ regarding the affairs of the Elector Palatine, and whatever terms James required, he pledged himself to accede to. Now he repeated that although he could not in honour proclaim war against his nephew the Emperor--being engaged as mediator between him and the Palsgrave, at the instance of James--yet he would pledge himself in writing never to cease, by intercession or by warfare, till he had restored the Palatine to his hereditary dominion. Bristol and his fellow ambassador thought this assurance amply satisfactory; they sent off a messenger in hot haste, bearing their assurances that all possible difficulty was removed; and they went on putting their households into velvet and silver lace, to do honour to the marriage ceremony, as if it were really to take place. Bristol wrote more earnestly to the king, reminding him that the honour of king, prince, and ambassadors was most solemnly pledged; that the matters of the Palsgrave had been treated of separately, and that his majesty had always represented to Bristol himself that he regarded the marriage as a certain pledge of the Palatine's restoration. He added that the prince and my lord duke had also acted entirely on that opinion during their stay there. Charles and Buckingham, in fact, seem to have taken very little trouble about the ex-King and Queen of Bohemia.

But all was in vain; the prince had determined not to complete the marriage. It was believed that the view which he had had of the Princess Henrietta at Paris had, even before his reaching Spain, changed his intentions; and a courier brought from James an order for Bristol not to deliver the proxy till Christmas, "because that holy and joyful time was best fitting so notable and blessed an action as the marriage." When we add that the proxy was well known to the king and prince to expire before Christmas, we can duly estimate this awful language of hypocrisy. The King of Spain saw at once that he had been imposed upon; he gave instant orders to stop the preparations for the marriage, for the Infanta to drop the title of Princess of England, which she is said to have done with tears, and to return to her usual state. The fury of indignation against the English in Spain may readily be conceived.

The Earl of Bristol had acted too much the part of a faithful and honourable servant of the Crown to escape the censure of such a Court, and the vengeance of such a man as Buckingham. He had not hesitated, in spite of the remonstrances of the prince, to represent to James, during their sojourn in Madrid, the disgraceful conduct of that despicable libertine. James had the folly or the wickedness to show to the favourite these letters, and Bristol received his recall. The ambassador wrote to James requesting a remittance sufficient to bear him home, having pledged all his lady's jewels, and incurred a debt of fifty thousand crowns for Prince Charles, so that he had not funds even for his journey.

It does not appear that James or Charles took any notice of this most reasonable appeal; but Philip not only exonerated Bristol from any share in the disgraceful proceedings, but warned him of the danger which threatened him at home, and offered to make him one of the most distinguished men of his own realm, if he would take up his abode in Spain. Bristol, however, declined the noble offer, saying that he would rather lose his head in England, conscious as he was of innocence, than live a duke or Infantado in Spain with the imputation of treason, which was sure in such a case to be cast on him. Though he was ordered to quit Spain without delay, he was instructed to travel slowly, and on his landing he was commanded to retire to his house in the country, and consider himself a prisoner. The malicious Buckingham did his best to have him committed to the Tower, but the Duke of Richmond and the Earl of Pembroke opposed this injustice with effect.

James had got his baby Charles and his dog Steenie home again, but he soon found that they had involved him in troubles and debts, which very much abated the pleasure of their company. They had brought home neither wife nor her much desired money; on the contrary, they had spent his last shilling, increased his debts, thrown away the greater part of his jewels, had left the cause of his daughter and son-in-law in a worse position than before, and now were vehement to engage him in a war with Spain. Under the gloomy oppression of these embarrassments, he lost even his appetite for hunting and hawking, shut himself up alone at Newmarket, and wrote to the Palatine, recommending him to make his submission to the Emperor; to offer his eldest son, who was to be educated in England, to him for his daughter; to accept the administration of his hereditary territory, and to allow the Duke of Bavaria the title of Elector for life. Under the advice of Charles and Buckingham the Palsgrave positively declined any such arrangement.

The only resource now was to call a Parliament, but this was a step which had rarely brought him satisfaction. Before doing this he took the opinion of the Privy Council during the Christmas holidays on these points:--Whether the King of Spain had acted sincerely in the negotiations for the marriage? and whether he had given sufficient provocation to call for war? The Council unanimously supported the idea of the King of Spain's sincere dealing, and a majority declared that there was no just cause for war.

This result, so hostile to the wishes of Buckingham, filled him with chagrin, and his wrath fell with especial weight on Williams the Lord Keeper, and Cranfield the Treasurer. These men had been his most servile creatures; they were, in fact, altogether his creatures; but during his absence they had seen such evidence of displeasure in the king towards him, that they imagined his power was about at an end and they were emboldened to oppose him. But his fierce displeasure and the symptoms of even growing popularity which showed themselves round him, terrified them and they made the most humble submission.