As the German spirit at the epoch of the Reformation, so the English spirit at the beginning of the seventeenth century, took its place among the rival nationalities which stood apart from one another on the domain of Western Christendom, and on whose exertions the advance of the human race depends.
[379] In a letter to Casaubon he says 'vitam et res humanas et medias earum turbas per contemplationes sanas et veras instructiores esse volo.' (Works vi. 51).
[380] Sam. Cox in Nicolas' Memoirs of Hatton, App. XXX.
BOOK V.
DISPUTES WITH PARLIAMENT DURING THE LATER YEARS OF THE REIGN OF JAMES I
AND THE EARLIER YEARS OF THE REIGN OF CHARLES I.
It has been my wish hitherto in my narrative to suppress myself as it were, and only to let the events speak and the mighty forces be seen which, arising out of and strengthened by each other's action in the course of centuries, now stood up against one another, and became involved in a stormy contest, which discharged itself in bloody and terrible outbursts, and at the same time was fraught with the decision of questions most important for the European world.
The British islands, which in ancient times had been the extreme border-land, or even beyond the extreme border-land of civilisation, had now become one of its most important centres, and, owing to the union just effected, had taken a grand position among the powers of the world. But it is nevertheless clear at first sight that the constituent elements of the population were far from being completely fused. In many places in the two great islands the old Celtic stock still existed with its original character unaltered. The Germanic race, which certainly had an indubitable preponderance and was sovereign over the other, was split into two different kingdoms, which, despite the union of the two crowns, still remained distinct. The hostility of the two races was increased by a difference of religion, which was closely connected with this hostility though it was not merged in it. As a general rule the men of Celtic extraction remained true to the Roman Catholic faith, while the Germanic race was penetrated by Protestant convictions. Yet there were Protestants among the former, and we know how numerous and how powerful the Catholics were among the latter. Besides this, moreover, opposite tendencies with regard to ecclesiastical forms struck root in the two kingdoms. It was now the principal aim of the family by whose hereditary claim the two kingdoms and the islands had been united, not only to avert the strife of hostile elements, but also to reconcile them with one another, and to unite them in a single commonwealth under its authority, which all acknowledged and which it was desired to extend by such an union. This was a scheme which opened a great prospect, but at the same time involved no inconsiderable danger. Each of the two kingdoms watched jealously over its separate independence. They would not allow the dynasty to bring about a common government, which would thus have set itself up above them, and would have established a new kind of sovereignty over them. While the crown sought to enforce prerogatives which were contested, it had to encounter in both kingdoms the claims advanced by the holders of power in the nation, whom in turn it endeavoured to repress. The quarrel was complicated by a conception of the relations of the crown to foreign powers answering to its new position, and running counter to the national view. At the same time very perceptible analogies to this state of things were offered by the religious wars, which began to convulse the continent more violently than ever, and aroused corresponding feelings in the British isles. The dynasty which tried to appease the prevailing opposition of principles might find that, on the contrary, it rather fomented the strife, and was itself drawn into it. This in fact took place. Springs of action of the most opposite nature and antagonisms growing out of nationality, religion, and politics, which could not be understood apart from one another, co-operated in giving rise to events which do not form a single continuous course of action, but rather present a varied and changing result, due to elements which were grand and full of life, but still waited for their final settlement. It is clear how much this depended on the character and discernment of the king.
CHAPTER I.
JAMES I AND HIS ADMINISTRATION OF DOMESTIC GOVERNMENT.
At one period of his youth James I had been accustomed to vary his application to his lessons with bodily exercises. At that age he had divided his days between learned studies and the chase of the smaller game in Stirling Park, accompanied in both pursuits by friends and comrades of the same age; and he retained during all his life the habits he had then formed.[381] He spent only a couple of months in the year in London, or at Greenwich: he preferred Theobald's, and still more distant country seats like Royston and Newmarket, where he could give himself up to hunting. Even before sunrise he was in motion, surrounded by a small number of companions practised in the chase and selected for that object, amongst whom he was himself one of the most skilful. He thought that he might vie with Henry IV even in field sports; but he was not hindered by his fondness for these amusements from continuing his studies with unwearied application. He was impelled to these not, strictly speaking, by thirst for general knowledge, although he was not deficient in this, but principally by interest in the theological controversies which engaged the attention of the world. He more than once went through the voluminous works of Bellarmin; and, in order to verify the citations, he had the old editions of the Fathers and of the Decrees of the Councils sent him from Cambridge. In this task a learned bishop stood at his side to assist him. He endeavoured with many a work of his own to thrust himself forward in the conflict of opinions. He had the vanity of wishing to be regarded as the most learned man in the two kingdoms, but he could only succeed in passing for a storehouse of all sorts of knowledge; for a man who overestimates himself is commonly punished by disregard even of his real merits. These may not meet with recognition until later times. The writings of James I wore the pedantic dress of the age; but in the midst of scholastic argumentation we yet stumble upon apt thoughts and allusions. The images which he frequently employs have not that delicacy of literary feeling which avoids what is ungraceful, but they are original and sometimes striking in their simplicity. Naturally thorough and acute, he labours not without success to prove to his adversaries the untenableness of the grounds on which they proceed, or the logical fallacy of their conclusions. Here and there we catch the elevated tone of a consciousness that rests upon firm conviction. Even in conversation he sought to turn away from particulars as soon as they came under discussion, and to pass to general considerations, a province in which he felt most at home. In his incidental utterances which have been taken down, he displays sound sense and knowledge of mankind. It is especially worth noticing how he considers virtue and religion to be immediately connected with knowledge—the confusions in the world appear to him for the most part to arise from mediocrity of knowledge[382]—and how highly moreover he estimates a sense for truth. He finds the most material difference between virtue and vice in the greater inward truthfulness of the former. King James delivers many other well-weighed principles of calm wisdom: it is only extraordinary how little his own practice corresponded with them.[383] When in one of his earlier writings we mark the seriousness with which he speaks of the duty incumbent on a king of testing men of talent, of measuring their capacity, and of appointing his servants not according to inclination but according to merit, we should expect to find him in this respect a careful and conscientious ruler. Instead of this we find that he always has favourites, whose merits no one can discover; to whom he stands in the extraordinarily compound relation of father, teacher, and friend, and to whom he allows a share in the power which he possesses. He could never free himself from a ruinous prodigality towards those about him, in spite of resolutions of amendment. How soon were the costly objects flung away which Elizabeth had collected and left behind at her death![384] How many possessions or sources of revenue accruing to the crown did he allow to pass into private hands! Any regulation of his household expenditure was as little to be expected from him in England as in Scotland. Like the princes of the thirteenth century he considered that the royal power assigned him privileges and advantages in which he had a full right to allow his favourites and servants to share. Not seldom the most scandalous abuses were connected with these: for instance, when the court was to be provided with the common necessaries of life during its journeys, it was required that they should be delivered to it at low prices: the servants exacted more supplies than were wanted, and then sold the surplus for their own profit. In grotesque contrast with the disgraceful cupidity of his attendants is the exaggerated conception which James had formed for himself of the ideal importance of the royal authority, which at that time some persons attempted with metaphysical acuteness to lay down almost in the same terms as the attributes of the Deity. He had similar notions about his dignity and the unconditional obligation of his subjects. Even in his Parliamentary speeches he did not refrain from expressing them. He made no secret of them in his life in the country, where he met with unbounded veneration from every one. It was remarked as a point of contrast between him and Elizabeth, that while she had always spoken of the love of her subjects, James on the contrary was always talking of the obedience which they owed him on the ground of divine and human right. And people recognised many other points of contrast between them besides this.[385] When the Queen had formed a resolution, she had never shrunk from the trouble of directing her attention to its execution even in the minutest details. King James did not possess this ardour; for he could not descend from the world of studies and general views in which he lived, to take a searching interest in the business of the government or of justice. He had indeed been known to say that it was annoying to him to hear the arguments on both sides quietly discussed in a question of right submitted to him; for that in that case he was unable to come to any conclusion. The Queen loved gallant men and characters distinguished for boldness: the King was without any sense of military merit, and felt uncomfortable in the presence of men of enterprising spirit. He thought that he could only trust those whom he had chained to himself by favours, presents, and benefits. The Queen served as a pattern of everything which was proper and becoming. James, who restricted himself to the intercourse of a few intimate friends, formed attachments which he thought were to serve as the rule of life. He himself was slovenly; in England, as formerly in Scotland, he neglected his appearance, and indulged in eccentricities which appeared repulsive to others, and were taken amiss from him. Even at that time there was a common feeling in England in favour of what is becoming in good society; and although the feeling was for a long time less deeply engraved on men's minds, and less sensitive to every outrage than it became at a later period, men did not pardon the King for coming into collision with it.
Hence this sovereign appeared in complete contradiction with himself. Careless, petty, and at the same time most unusually proud; a lover of pomp and ceremony, yet fond of solitude and retirement; fiery and at the same time lax; a man of genius and yet pedantic; eager to acquire and reckless in giving away; confidential and imperious; even in little matters of daily life not master of himself, he often did what he would afterwards rather have left undone. With all his knowledge and acuteness, the high flight of his thoughts was often allied to a moral weakness which among all circles did serious injury to that reverence which had hitherto been reserved for those who held the highest authority, and which was partly bestowed even on him. It could not seem likely that such a man should be able to exercise great influence on the fortunes of Britain.
He did however exercise such an influence. He gave the tone to the policy of the Stuart dynasty, and introduced the complication in which the destiny of his descendants was involved.
In the first years of his reign in England, so long as Robert Cecil was alive, King James exercised no deep influence. The Privy Council possessed to the full the authority which belonged to it by old custom. James used simply to confirm the resolutions which were adopted in the bosom of the Council under the influence of the Treasurer: he appears in the reports of ambassadors as a phantom-king, and the minister as the real ruler of the country.[386] After the death of Cecil all this was changed. The King knew the party-divisions which prevailed in the Council: he let its members have their own way, and even connived at the relations they formed with foreign powers for their own interest; but he knew how to hold the balance between them, and in the midst of their divisions to carry out his own views. In those country seats, where no one seemed to take thought for anything except the pleasures of the chase and learned pursuits, the business of the state also was carried on in course of time with ever-increasing ardour.[387] The secretaries about the King were incessantly busy, while the secretaries' chambers in London were idle. Great affairs were generally transacted between the King and the favourite in the ascendant at the time, in conferences to which only a few others were admitted, and sometimes not even these. The King himself decided; and the resolutions which were taken were communicated to the Privy Council, which gradually became accustomed to do nothing more than invest them with the customary forms. If it be asked what the object of the King's efforts was, the answer must be that it was to set the exercise of the supreme power free from the controlling influence of the men of high rank to whom the King had deferred on his first accession. This was generally the aim of the great rulers of that century. This had been the principal end of the policy of Philip II of Spain during his long political life: however the Kings and Queens of France may have differed on other points, they were all, both Henry III and Henry IV, Mary de' Medici while she was regent, and Lewis XIII so soon as he succeeded to the exercise of power, at one in this endeavour. James, who was a new sovereign in one of his kingdoms, and almost always absent from the other, had more difficulties in his way than other monarchs. Wherever it was possible he proceeded with energy and rigour. People were astonished when they reckoned up the number of considerable men who served him in high offices, and were then deprived of them. He laboured incessantly to make way for the impartial exercise of justice in the King's name throughout Scotland, in spite of the privileges of the great Scottish nobles as its administrators. In his ecclesiastical arrangements in that country, he was fond of insisting on his personal wishes: in cases of emergency indeed he made known that all the treasures of India were not of so much value in his eyes as the observance of his ordinances; and he threatened the opponents of the royal will with the King's anger, to which he then gave unbridled indulgence.[388] As he looked upon the Church of England as the best bulwark against the influence of the Jesuits which he feared on the one side, and that of the Puritans which he hated on the other, it was naturally his foremost endeavour to fortify his power, and to unite the two kingdoms with one another by the promotion and spread of the forms of that Church. The essential motive of his system of colonisation in Ireland was the wish to establish the Church, by the aid of which he designed to subjugate or to suppress hostile elements. In England he imparted to it a character still more clerical and removed from Presbyterianism than that which had previously distinguished it: he wished it to be as much withdrawn as possible from the action of civil legislation. But in proportion as he supported himself on the Church he fell out with the Parliament, in which aristocratic tendencies and sympathies with popular rights and with Puritanism were blended with a feeling of independence that was hateful to him. He once said that five hundred kings were assembled there, and he thought that he was fulfilling a duty in resisting them. The most momentous questions affecting constitutional rights in regard to the freedom of elections, freedom of speech, the limits of legislative power, and above all the right of granting taxes, were brought forward under King James. And on every other side he saw himself involved in a struggle with hostile privileges and proud independent powers, from whose ascendancy both in Church and State he was careful to keep himself free, while at the same time he did not proceed to extremities or come to an absolute rupture. He was naturally disposed, and was moreover led by circumstances, to make it a leading rule of conduct, to adhere immovably to principles which he had once espoused, and never to lose sight of them; but, having done this, to appear vacillating and irresolute in matters of detail. His position abroad involved the same apparent contradiction. Placed in the midst of great rival powers, and never completely certain of the obedience of his subjects, he sought to ensure the future for himself by crafty and hesitating conduct. All the world complained that they could not depend on him; each party thought that he was blinded by the other. Those however who knew him more intimately assure us that we must not suppose that he did not apprehend the snares which were laid for him; that if only he were willing to use his eyes, he was as clear-sighted as Argus; that there was no prince in the world who had more insight into affairs or more cleverness in transacting them. They say that if he appeared to lack decision, this arose from his fine perception of the difficulties arising from the nature of things and their necessary consequences; that he was just as slow and circumspect in the execution as he was lively and expeditious in the discussion of measures; that he knew how to moderate his choleric temperament by an intentional reserve,[389] and that even his absence from the capital and his residence in the country were made to second this systematic hesitation; that, if a disputed point awaited decision, instead of attending a meeting with the Privy Councillors who were with him, he would take advantage of a fine day to fly his falcons, for he thought that something might happen in the meanwhile, or some news be brought in, and that the delay of an hour had often ere now been found profitable.
It was then through no mere weakness on King James's part that he conceded power to a favourite. In a letter to Robert Carr he describes what he thought he had found in him, viz. a man who did not allow himself to be diverted a hair's-breadth from his service,[390] who never betrayed a secret, and who had nothing before his eyes but the advantage and good name of his sovereign. The greater share that he secured for such a man in the management of affairs the greater the power which he believed that he himself exercised in them. The A.D. 1613. favourite who depended entirely on the will of the king and knew his secrets, he supposed would be both feared and powerful as a first minister, and would pave the way by his influence upon the state for the carrying out of the views of the sovereign. He thought that he could combine the government of the state and the advance of monarchical ideas, with the comfort of a domestic friendship with an inferior.
James himself brought about the alliance, which we noticed, between Robert Carr, whom he raised to the earldom of Somerset, and the house of Howard. By the union of the hereditary importance of an old family that had almost always held the highest and most influential offices, with the favour of the King which carried with it the fullest authority, a power was in fact consolidated which for a while governed England. Henry Howard, Earl of Northampton, the Lord Treasurer Thomas Howard, Earl of Suffolk, and Robert Carr were considered the triumvirs of England.[391] In the midst of this combination appears Lady Frances Howard, the daughter of the Earl of Suffolk, whose divorce from Essex and marriage with Somerset had sealed the political alliance between the two families. She was young and beautiful, with an expression of modesty and gentleness, but at the same time stately and brilliant, a fit creature to move in a society that revelled in the enjoyment of life, in the culture of the century, and in the possession of high rank. But what an abyss of dark impulses and unbridled passion sometimes lies hid under such a shining exterior! The Lady Frances had once sought to draw Prince Henry into her net. Many said that she had employed magic for this purpose; indeed they assumed that the early death of the Prince had been brought on partly by this means.[392] Her marriage with the king's favourite was, if this be true, only a secondary satisfaction of her ambition, but yet a satisfaction which she could not forego. Somerset had an intimate friend, whose advice and services at a former period A.D. 1615. had been very useful to him, but who opposed this marriage and fell out with him on account of it—his name was Overbury.[393] Lady Frances swore to effect his death. We are revolted at the licence which personal hate enjoyed of misusing the power of the state, when we read that Overbury was first brought to the Tower, and then had creatures who could be relied on set about him there, with whose help the victim was removed out of the way by means of poison. Lady Frances was not the only female poisoner among the higher classes of society. This mode of assassination had spread in England as it had done in Italy and at times in France. In these transactions the most abandoned profligacy allied itself with the brilliancy and the advantages of a high position, but they foreboded a speedy ruin. The authority of Somerset awakened discontent and secret counterplots. He was naturally turbulent, obstinate, and insolent, and had the presumption to behave in his usual manner even to the King whom he set right with an air of intellectual superiority which revived in the King's breast bitter recollection of the years of his childhood. James put up with this conduct for a while; he then, against the will of the favourite, set his hand to raise to a level with him another young man, for whom he entertained a personal liking: at last the misunderstanding came to an open rupture. And at the same time an accident brought to light the circumstances of Overbury's death.[394] All Somerset's old enemies raised their heads again, and proceedings were instituted against him and his wife which terminated in their condemnation.[395] The King pardoned them, to the extent of allowing them to lead a life secluded from the world; they resided afterwards in the same house, but, as far as is known, in complete separation without even seeing one another.
Shortly before this event Henry Howard had died. Thomas Howard, whose wife was accused of exercising a pernicious and corrupt influence upon affairs, lost his office of High Treasurer. The place of Carr was occupied by the young man above referred to, whom Carr's adversaries had combined to push forward, George Villiers, a native of Leicestershire, where his family had lived upon their own ancestral property from the time of the Conquest. After the early death of his father, his mother, a Beaumont by birth, a lady still young and full of ambition and knowledge of the world, had educated him not only in the training of English schools but in French ways and manners, and had then brought him to court. He differed from Carr in being naturally good-tempered, and of a courteous obliging disposition, which won the heart of every one.[396] Although no one doubted that he would be spoilt by a higher position, yet people thought that he could never become malicious like Somerset. Lord Pembroke and Archbishop Abbot both gave him a helping hand in his rise: the latter moved the Queen also, although she was not without scruples, to aid in it. Villiers was a man after the King's own heart, well-formed, capable of intellectual cultivation, devoted: in consequence of the favour and confidence of the King the youth, who after a time was created Duke of Buckingham, acquired a ruling position in the English state. The old Admiral Effingham, Earl of Nottingham, resigned his office in order to make room for him: some other high officials were appointed under his influence and according to his views; in a short time the white wands of the royal household and the A.D. 1617. under-secretaryships and subordinate offices had been transferred to the hands of his adherents and friends.
But foreign as well as domestic relations were affected by this change. Somerset had stood in the most confidential relations with the Spanish ambassador: he was accused of having betrayed to him the secrets of the state from his office.[397] His wife, if not himself, was thought to have drawn money from Spain. Probably the intelligence of this behaviour, which came to the King's ears, contributed most to the downfall of Somerset. This event did not in itself involve a change of policy. In the advice which was given to the young favourite from a well-informed source, it is presupposed that the good understanding with Spain would continue: but it was now possible for the adversaries of this power to bestir themselves again. Some of the most conspicuous men of the other party, such as Winwood, the Secretary of State, would even have been glad if open war with Spain had immediately broken out.
The mutual opposition between these powerful tendencies, and the men who made them their own, brought the career of Walter Ralegh to a close.
Somerset was Ralegh's personal enemy, and had gained possession of his best estate. After his fall Ralegh was liberated from the Tower. He still lay under the weight of a sentence which had been pronounced against him on the occasion of the plot which bears his name. He might have purchased its removal; but he was assured by the most influential voices that he had nothing more to fear from it; and he thought that he could apply the money more profitably to the execution of the great design which he had long ago formed, and which he had never for an instant lost sight of during his captivity. A story was then afloat that after the destruction of the kingdom of Peru the descendants of the Incas had founded another kingdom between the Amazon and the Orinoco, the Dorado of the Spaniards. It was Ralegh's ambition to open to his countrymen this region which would be easily accessible from the coasts, of which he had formerly taken possession in the name of England. The old reputation of Ralegh's name procured him sufficient support for his expedition, not only from the merchants, but also from wealthy private individuals; and the King gave him a patent which empowered him to sail to the ports of America still in possession of the heathen, in order to open commercial intercourse with them, and to spread the Christian, especially the Reformed, faith among them.[398] In July 1617 Ralegh set sail from Plymouth harbour for this object, with seven ships of war and a number of small transports carrying about 700 men.
It was presupposed that in such an enterprise all hostilities against the Spaniards would be avoided. When the Spanish ambassador complained of this expedition undertaken by a man who had already on one occasion been very troublesome to the Spanish colonies, the Privy Council answered that Ralegh was pledged by his instructions to do no damage to the Spaniards; and that 'if he violated them his head was there to pay for it.'[399] The King himself repeated this answer to him.
Ralegh in fact guarded against any collision with the Spaniards on his voyage. He was said not to have taken a single Spanish vessel, and he directed his course without stopping to Guiana, the goal which he had set before himself. But the Spaniards had become powerful there, although not until after his former visit. From Caraccas they had conquered the natives, who were engaged in internal wars, and had firmly established themselves at a short distance from the coast. What was likely to happen if they opposed the forces which Ralegh landed to search for the gold mines which he had formerly seen there? Ralegh remembered full well what a danger he ran if he engaged in a struggle and fought with them: he knew that he was thereby forfeiting his life. But on the other side, was he to return without fulfilling his purpose, and to burden himself with the reproach of not having told the truth? Worst of all, was he to fail in effecting the object which he had entertained all his life long, and not to achieve the discovery on which he staked the future glory of his name? It was perhaps the greatest moment in a life that almost always lifts itself above the ordinary level, when the thirst for discovery gained the victory over considerations of legality and the danger involved in discarding them. And well might he have hoped that not only pardon but praise would have been accorded him, if he had actually obtained possession of the gold mines, by whatever means. He commanded his men when they advanced inland to behave to the Spaniards as the Spaniards behaved to them. A collision was thus unavoidable. It took place at S. Thomas, which was destroyed, but the Spaniards nevertheless had completely the superiority: Ralegh's only son was killed; and the captain who had the charge of the expedition was so disheartened that he committed suicide. These disasters involved the utter failure of the expedition. His crews, who were naturally insubordinate, quarrelled among themselves, and on the voyage home the fleet dispersed. Ralegh came back to England without an ounce of gold, and without having effected any result whatever: he appeared in the light of an adventurer who had wantonly desired to break the peace with Spain. And when the ambassador of this power asked for full and signal satisfaction, in order to restore the good understanding which Ralegh's enterprise had at once interrupted, was it to be expected that the King should take under his protection the man who had not complied with the conditions prescribed to him, and whom for other reasons he did not love? And moreover the pulse of free generosity which befits a sovereign did not beat in the breast of King James. He A.D. 1618. consented that the old sentence of condemnation, for fifteen years suspended over Ralegh's head, should now be enforced against him. It had been pronounced against him for entering into a secret alliance with Spain; an attack on Spain led to its execution. Ralegh and the King exhibit a contrast between ambition that scorns danger on the one side, and caution that supports itself by the forms of law on the other, such as even in England has hardly ever been so sharply drawn. The King could not possibly get any good by his conduct. The position of England in the world depended upon the resistance that she offered to the preponderance of Spain in both the Indies and in Europe. The King detached himself from one of the chief interests of the nation when he allowed a felon's death to be inflicted on the man of lofty genius, who had undertaken, by an ill-advised attempt it is true, to give effect in America to this feeling of world-wide opposition. James thought that his welfare lay in maintaining the peace with Spain. But we know that at an earlier date he had entered on a course adverse to Spain, and that even now he had not entirely renounced it. What confusion must eventually follow from this divided policy!
[381] Ant. Foscarini, Relatione 1618: 'Il re ritiene questa sorte di vita nella quale fu habituato, e spende tutto il tempo che puo nella caccia e ne studj.'
[382] 'Crums fallen from King James' Table, or his Table Talk.' MS. in the British Museum.
[383] Wilson, James I, 289: 'He had pure notions in conception, but could bring few of them into action, though they tended to his own preservation.' Wilson, Weldon, and the notices in Balfour, are certainly all of them deeply tinged with party feeling. The elder Disraeli is quite right in rejecting them: but his own conception is very unsatisfactory. Gardiner (1863) avoids unauthenticated statements; but the views of James' character which have grown up and established themselves owing to the commonplace repetition of such statements, control his representation of it.
[384] Foscarini: 'A due sorti di persone dona particolarmente, a grandi et a quelli che gli assistono che sono quasi tutti Scocesi, e non vaca cosa alcuna della quale possino cavar utile, che non la demandino e nello stesso momento obtengono.'
[385] Harrington: Nugae Antiquae i.
[386] Niccolo Molino, Relatione 1607: 'A abandonato e messo dietro le spalle tutti gli affari li quali lascia al suo consiglio ed a suoi ministri, onde si puo dire con verità ch'egli sia principe di nome e Più tosto d'apparenza che d'effetto.'
[387] A. Foscarini 1618: 'In campagna gli viene di giorno in giorno dal consiglio che risiede per ordinario in Londra dato conto di quanto passa et inviatigli spacci e corrieri: tratta e risolve molte cose con il consiglio solo de suoi favoriti.—Risolve per ordinario in momenti et havendo seco segretarii per gli affari d'Inghilterra, per quelli di Scotia e Ibernia comanda ciascuno di essi, quanto occorre e vuol che si faccia in tutti i suoi regni.'
[388] Calderwood, vii. 311, 434, &c.
[389] Girolamo Lando, Relatione 1622: '(S. M. è) inclinata all'ambiguita et alla dimora non gia per naturale complessione impastata di foco, colerico et molto ardente, ma perche vuol darsi a credere di cavare della protrattione del tempo ciò, che desidera—conli scemi dell'ira tenendo pure quelli della mansuetudine.'
[390] 'Unmoveable in one hair that might concern me against the whole world.' James to Somerset, in Halliwell ii. 127; certainly one of the most important documents in this collection.
[391] Narrative of Abbot in Rushworth i. 460.
[392] A. Foscarini, 1615 Nov. 13. 'Si mantiene viva la voce e sospetto del principe defonto.' Nov. 20, 'Avanthieri parti il re, che per questo accidente e per le gravi dissensioni ed odii che regna in corte si mostra molto addolorato.'
[393] The personal motive of the estrangement might have lain in Overbury's speech to Somerset, mentioned by Payton during the trial: '"I will leave you free to yourself to stand on your own legs." My lord of Somerset answered his legs were strong enough to bear himself.' (State Trials ii. 978.) He wished to show that he could dispense with Overbury.
[394] According to Wilson, Ralph Winwood was informed by a confession made at Vliessingen. From a letter of Winwood extracted by Gardiner (History of England ii. 216) we only learn that Winwood received the first intimation: he reckons it as a proof of the justice of the King of England that he allowed the investigation to be made.
[395] Somerset intimated that he possessed secrets the disclosure of which would compromise the King: and there is nothing, however conjectural or infamous, which has not seemed to some among posterity to be probable on this ground. James I says, 'God knows it is only a trick of his idle brain, hoping thereby to shift his trial. I cannot hear a private message from him without laying an aspersion upon myself of being an accessory to his crime.' (Halliwell ii. 138.)
[396] Girolamo Lando, Relatione 1622, praises him for 'apparenza di modestia, benignita e cortesia,—bellezza, gratia, leggiadria del corpo, a tutti gli esercitii mirabilmente disposto.'
[397] 'Che le lettere Più importanti del re sono passate in mano di Spagna.' Ant. Foscarini, Nov. 13, 1615. There is a letter of James I of October 20 which likewise supposes acts of treachery of this kind. What is true in this supposition we now learn from Digby's letter, in Gardiner, App. iii. 2.
[398] 'To the south parts of America or elsewhere within America possessed and inhabited by heathen and savage people.' So run the words of the commission: it is therein said expressly 'Sir Walter Ralegh being under the peril of the law.'
[399] Dispaccio Veneto Feb. 10, 1617: 'Che le cose erano concertate che S. M. cattolica non avrebbe occasione di riceverne disgusto—che era fermamente del re, che il Rale andasse al suo viaggio, nel quale se avesse contravenuto alle suoi instruttioni—haveva la testa con che pagherebbe la disubbidienza.'
CHAPTER II.
COMPLICATIONS ARISING OUT OF THE AFFAIRS OF THE PALATINATE.
During these years there had been persons at the helm of state in most countries, who either from natural disposition or from a calculation of present circumstances had cherished peaceful views. In spite of all the activity of Spanish policy, Philip III and his minister Lerma clung to the principle that the rest needed to restore the strength of the exhausted monarchy must be granted to it. The Emperor Matthias owed the crown he wore to his alliance with the Protestants: his first minister Klesel, although a cardinal, was a lukewarm Catholic, and a man of conciliatory views in general. The Regent of France, Mary de' Medici, had surrendered the warlike designs of her husband when she entered on the exercise of sovereign power. Christian IV of Denmark held similar views. He declined the proposals of the Poles, which were aimed at a renewal of the war against Sweden: he preferred, with the approval of his council of state, to proceed with the building of towns and harbours in which he was engaged.
Hence it was possible on the whole to carry out a policy such as that maintained by James I. It corresponded to the tone prevalent among the other powers.
From time to time it seemed probable that the opposing forces which were contending with one another in the depths of European life, would burst forth and shatter the peaceful state of affairs. For the advancing revival of Catholicism roused the hostile feelings of Protestants, while the union of the German and the independent feeling of the Italian princes resisted the extension of the alliances of Spain. In the A.D. 1617. year 1615, on the Netherland frontier, and in the year 1616 on the boundaries between Austria and Venice, warlike movements began which threatened to prove the commencement of a general struggle: but these were disputes of an essentially local nature, and peaceful dispositions still maintained the upper hand.
But in the year 1617 and 1618 a question arose which no longer allowed this state of things to continue. It concerned the imperial dignity of Germany, but it exercised so powerful a secondary influence upon affairs most thoroughly English that even in a history of England a short discussion must be devoted to it.
The increasing weakness of the Emperor Matthias rendered his speedy end probable; and all preparations were already being made in the house of Austria to secure the succession of the Archduke Ferdinand of Styria to the imperial throne, as well as to his own hereditary kingdoms and provinces. No arrangement could in itself have been more suitable in the nature of things. Ferdinand was the most vigorous scion of his house; and both the German Archdukes laid their own well-founded claims at his feet. A resignation on the part of Philip III of the claims which he inherited from his mother was thought indispensable: but even this created no difficulty. It was merely stipulated that Ferdinand should indemnify him for resigning them; and this he was willing to do. It only remained that the crown of the German Empire should also be assured to him. The Archdukes were eager for an immediate negotiation on the subject, and were already certain of the support of the spiritual electors.
It is clear however that the succession was not merely a change of persons. The place of the peaceable and moderate Matthias would be filled by one of the most devoted pupils of the Jesuits in the person of Ferdinand, who had made himself terrible to the Protestants by an unsparing restoration of Catholicism in his own country. Moreover the alliance between the German and Spanish line, which had been loosened in the last few years, was to be consolidated into a union resting on common interests: so that it seemed likely that Austria would enjoy a supremacy like that which had been established in the time of Charles V. The letters which passed between the members of that house, and which had accidentally been divulged, excited surprise by the note of general hostility which they struck, while the share of the Palatinate and of Brandenburg in the election was treated in them as a formality which could be dispensed with in case of necessity.[400]
It is quite intelligible that the Protestants should be agitated by this discovery, and should entertain the idea of opposing the election of Ferdinand. Not that one of them thought of acquiring the throne for himself; they did not resist the election of a Catholic emperor as such, but they wished to guard against the resumption of the combination between the Austro-Spanish power and the prerogatives of the imperial crown. At first their eyes fell upon Duke Maximilian of Bavaria, whom they would by this means have for ever detached from that power. The Elector Frederick controlled the jealousy which, as Elector Palatine, he felt for a branch of the same house, and went to Munich in order to prevail on his cousin to consent to this arrangement; for, according to the plea advanced on grounds of imperial right, the imperial crown could not be allowed to become hereditary in the house of Austria. He hoped that the Archbishop Ferdinand of Cologne, the brother of the Duke of Bavaria, would support him, and that his influence would win over the other spiritual electors also. The Union and the League would then have combined to oppose the house of Austria.
But meanwhile open resistance to the claims of this family had already broken out in its own provinces. While the Emperor Matthias was still alive, the Archduke Ferdinand, through the combination, as prescribed by Bohemian usage, of an election with the recognition of his hereditary claims, had been acknowledged future King of Bohemia, and had been already crowned, on condition that he would not mix in public affairs before the death of his predecessor. But immediately after the coronation people thought that they could discover his hand in every act of the government. Cardinal Klesel, the man in whom the greatest confidence was reposed, especially by the Protestant portion of the Estates, had been overthrown owing to the influence of the Spanish ambassador. In opposition to the influence thus exercised, 'against the practices and snares of the Jesuits,' as the phrase ran, the zealous Protestants who, when Ferdinand was accepted as King, had been thrust into the background or had retired, now obtained the upper hand in the country, and proceeded to open insurrection while the Emperor Matthias was still alive. This Prince was the first who was overturned by the collision of the two parties, whose enmity was again reviving, and between whom he had thought of mediating. He was bitterly disappointed by his failure. After his death the Bohemians thought themselves justified in refusing any longer to acknowledge Ferdinand as their King, and in seeking on the contrary for a worthier successor to the throne, on the ground that in Ferdinand's election the traditional forms had not been accurately observed, and that he was undermining all religious and political freedom. Their eyes had even fallen on Catholic princes; but as the motive which prompted their resistance was certainly the religious one, their attention was still more drawn to the most eminent Protestant prince in their vicinity, Frederick Elector Palatine, who as head of the Union was himself the principal opponent of the election of Ferdinand as Emperor.
On the very first steps taken in this matter, the King of England was affected by these movements. We learn that, on the occasion of the overtures made by Frederick, Maximilian of Bavaria had been moved to write to James I, and to express to him his satisfaction at the family connexion which had sprung up between them. The interest of the Palatinate and of England seemed one and the same, especially as the King was still considered a member and protector A.D. 1618. of the Union. The presumption that the son-in-law of the King of England would find support from his power, contributed greatly to the importance which the Elector at this moment enjoyed.
But at the same time it was evident in what an embarrassing position James I was now placed, and that not only on account of the danger threatening the continuance of peace, which he thought no price too high to secure: his hands were tied not merely by this general consideration, but by another special reason as well. He was at that moment seriously engaged in a treaty for the marriage of his son with a Spanish infanta, which was to carry out the long-talked-of alliance between his family and the Austro-Spanish line.
The first overtures in regard to the present Prince of Wales had been made by the Duke of Lerma to the English envoy, Digby, to whom he opened a proposal for the marriage of Prince Charles with Mary, daughter of Philip III. The Spanish ambassador, Gondomar, had then taken the management of the affair in hand. We should do him wrong by supposing that he wished to deceive the King. Gondomar rather belonged to the party who looked for the welfare of the Spanish monarchy in the maintenance of peace, especially with England. The scheme of the marriage was part of the system of powerful alliances by which it was sought to prop the greatness of Spain. Even the uncertain rumour of this scheme, which was instantly propagated, sufficed to agitate the Protestant party in Europe and in England itself. The King declared that he moved only with leaden foot towards the proposal which had been made to him; and that, if it were seen that the alliance was dangerous to religion or to existing agreements, it should never take effect. But even the Secretary of State, Ralph Winwood, who repeated this declaration, disapproved of the scheme, as did also the whole school of Robert Cecil. They had wished to marry the Prince to the daughter of a German line, perhaps to a Brandenburg princess; and the States General offered their money and their services in order to win the consent of any such princess, and to convey her to England. Many would have preferred even a domestic A.D. 1619. alliance after the old fashion. Opposition was also offered on the part of the Church of England. Archbishop Abbot only delayed to urge it until the conditions of the marriage should come under discussion. But the King likewise had the approval of influential voices on his side. It was considered possible to conclude the marriage, and yet to preserve the other alliances of the country. People thought that England would in that case be only the more courted by both parties, and that the peace of the world would rest on the shoulders of the King.
But what a contradiction was involved in the ascendancy which these ideas obtained? The hereditary right to the crown of Bohemia, which the estates of that country would no longer acknowledge, belonged to the house of Spain. It was intended that the Elector Palatine should step into its place by election; and this prince was son-in-law to the King. After James had married his daughter to the head of the Protestants in Germany, he conceived the thought of marrying his son to the member of a family which had made the patronage and protection of Catholicism its special calling. It seemed as if he was purposely introducing into his own family the disunion which rent Europe in twain.
The negotiations in Germany after a time resulted in the victory of the house of Austria, which in spite of all opposition carried the day in the election of the Emperor. The Elector Palatine acknowledged Ferdinand II without hesitation. But almost at the same moment he received the news that he had himself been elected king by the Estates of Bohemia. It cannot be proved that he was privy to this beforehand: even the rumour that his wife urged him to accept the crown because she was a king's daughter meets with no confirmation. They were not so blind as not to perceive the enormous danger in which the acceptance of this offer would involve them. In reply to a question of the Elector, his wife answered that she regarded the election as a divine dispensation, that if he determined to accept it, which she left entirely to his consideration, she for her part was resolved to undergo everything that might follow from it. We must not regard as hypocrisy the prominence which the prince and the princess alike gave to religious considerations. Such was the fashion of the times generally, and especially of the party to which they belonged.
The Elector Frederick however did not yet declare his decision. The question of the acceptance of the crown of Bohemia was debated from every point of view by the very councillors who had just been present at the election of the Emperor. Their decision was in favour of the prince inviting first of all the advice of his friends in the empire, of the States-General, but especially of the King of England, and making sure of their support.[401] The Bohemian envoys, who most urgently requested an immediate answer, were put off with the reply that the Elector must first of all be certain of the consent of the father of his consort. Count Christopher Dohna was sent to England to persuade King James to give it. He was commissioned to deliver to him a letter from the Princess-Electress in which she most urgently entreated her father to support her husband and to prove his paternal love to them both.
King James came now face to face with the greatest question of his life, which summed up and brought to light, so to speak, all the cross purposes and conflicting political aims among which he had long moved. A word from him was now of the greater consequence, as the States-General declared that they would act as he did. But what was his decision to be? He was not unmoved by the thought that the prospect of possessing a crown was opened to his son-in-law and grandchildren. On the other hand he was greatly impressed by a representation which the King of Spain forwarded to him, that his right to the crown of Bohemia was indisputable—as in fact the Spanish line had a contingent claim to the succession—and that he would contend for it with all his strength: on which King James said that he also as a great sovereign had an interest in seeing that no one was deprived of his own. The theories of James I about the hereditary rights of princes, the electoral rights of the Estates, and the influence of religious profession in these matters, presented themselves to his mind together with his wishes on the question of the aggrandisement of his dynasty. He remarked that it could not be allowed that subjects should presume to fall away from their sovereign on a question of religion; he even feared that this doctrine might react to his own prejudice on England. In these considerations the balance evidently was in favour of a refusal. James would have deserved well of the world if he had given utterance to that refusal, and had decisively dissuaded his son-in-law from accepting the crown. And from his oft-repeated assertions at a later period, to the effect that the Elector had proceeded on his own responsibility, we might think that he had expressed himself in definite terms in favour of a different course.
In reality however this is not the case. He condemned the revolt of the Bohemians against Matthias: in regard to Ferdinand it was his opinion that they should prove from the old capitulations their right to declare his election and coronation invalid, and to proceed to a new election, in which case he would himself support them.[402] He expressed himself in such a manner, that even members of the Privy Council received the impression that he would approve of and even support the acceptance of the crown when once it had taken place. Christopher Dohna relates that in the negotiations at that time he one day declared that his master, the Elector, was ready to refuse the crown if the King required him to do so; and that James replied, 'I do not say that.'[403]
Monarchs are set in authority in order that they may pronounce definitive decisions according to the best of their own judgment. It is sometimes their duty to take a decided line. James, who hitherto had always stood between different parties, could not nerve himself at this eventful moment for a firm and straightforward resolve. In the monstrous dilemma in which the various questions at issue were becoming involved he could not come to any decision. The kindest thing that can be said of him is that at this moment his nature was not equal to the requirements of the situation.
Count Dohna, following the example of James's councillors, concluded from his expressions that he was not only not opposed to the acceptance of the crown, but that he would allow himself to be enlisted in its favour, and would support it. And there is no doubt that this view exercised a decisive influence upon the final resolution of the Elector Frederick. He certainly was already strongly inclined to accept the crown in opposition to his more clear-sighted and sagacious mother, but in agreement with his ardent wife: but he had not yet uttered the final words when Dohna's report came in.[404] When he learned from this that the King was not decidedly unfavourable, the Elector thought that he recognised a dispensation of God which he would not decline to carry out. In the presence of his councillors at the castle of Heidelberg he declared to the Bohemian ambassadors that he accepted the crown; and soon afterwards he set out for Bohemia. In October 1619 (Oct. 25/Nov. 4) he was crowned at Prague.
What unforeseen consequences however for himself and his friends, for Germany and for England, were destined to spring out of this undertaking!
In London, where the popular party had already from the first fixed their eyes on the Princess, this step was welcomed with the most joyous approval. It was represented to the King that the most brilliant prospect was A.D. 1620. thus opened to his family; that on the next vacancy his son-in-law, who already himself held two votes in the electoral body, could not fail to be chosen Emperor; and that England would by this means acquire the greatest influence on the continent. It was expected that these feelings for his family, and the successful issue of events, would work together to detach him again from Spain.
James on one occasion, on receiving the news of the confinement of his daughter, drank a bowl of wine 'to the health of the King and Queen of Bohemia.' He went so far as this, and people thought it worth while to record the event; but he could not be brought to acknowledge Frederick openly. He was not satisfied with the proof of their right advanced by the Bohemians: in conversation he advocated the right of Austria.
Spain and the League, as was inevitable, joined forces with Austria. In the first instance the Palatinate itself was the object of their joint attack. How could men have helped thinking that King James would resolutely take the inheritance of his grandsons under his protection? The Union invited him to do so, reminding him of the obligation imposed on him by his connexion with them mentioned above: they said it was no favour, but justice which they demanded of him. But James replied that he had pledged himself only to repel open and unjustifiable attacks, but that in the present case the Palatinate was the attacking party, and that Austria stood on the defensive. The Union presently saw itself compelled to conclude a treaty with the League, which left that power free to act against Bohemia. The Palatinate however was not secured thereby against the Spaniards.[405] To effect this, it would have been deemed advisable to make an attack from Holland on the Spanish Netherlands; for if a single fortified place had been occupied there, the Palatinate would have had nothing more to fear from Spain. But to this measure also James refused his consent: he thought that this would be equivalent to beginning war, which he did not wish.
The general sympathy of the nation was strong enough at last to cause a large English regiment of 2500 men, under Horace Vere, to be sent on the continent, in order that the Palatinate, on which the Spaniards now advanced, might not become utterly a prey to them. The Earls of Essex and Oxford, who had contributed most to raise the regiment, themselves took part in the campaign. They were joined by many other young men of leading families, who wished to learn the art of war. But they had received from the King positive commands to commit no act of hostility. The troops of the Union, who showed themselves quite ready to fight the Spaniards, were withheld by the threat that in that case the King would recall these troops instead of sending two more regiments to join them, the hope of which he held out to them in the event of their obedience. It was enough for the King that the English troops occupied the most important places. Vere held Mannheim, Herbert Heidelberg, Burrows Frankenthal; while the greater part of the country fell into the hands of the Spaniards.
Europe had reason to be alarmed at the advantage which accrued to the Spanish monarchy from this affair. The Tyrol and Alsace were already promised them to form links between Lombardy and the Netherlands: the possession of the Lower Palatinate completed their chain of communication.
The action of Spain and England presented a marked contrast. Spain, while it forsook Lerma's policy, held together all its friends—Germany, Austria, the League, the Pope, the Archducal Netherlands—and combined their forces for joint action on a large scale; while King James, in clinging to the policy of peace, let his allies fall asunder and crippled their activity.
But if James so acted in the case of the Palatinate which he wished to save, what might be fully expected in the case of Bohemia, with regard to which he openly declared, after some hesitation, that he could take no further part in its affairs? The new King found no hearty obedience among the Bohemians, partly because they found themselves deceived in their expectation of being assisted with troops by the Union, and with money by England. But worse than all, the ill-disciplined soldiery being without pay, broke out in mutiny: they were almost more ready to help themselves to their arrears by an attack upon the capital than to defend their sovereign or their country. On the other hand the soldiers of Austria and of the League, well paid and well disciplined, were spurred on by zealous priests. On their first attack they scattered the troops of Frederick to the four winds (November 1620). It would not have been impossible for Frederick to wage a defensive war in Bohemia; but regard to the danger into which the Queen would have been thrown in consequence prevented the attempt. That one day cost them both crown and country.
It is impossible to describe the impression which the news of this defeat produced in London. The King was held blameable because not a single soldier commissioned by him had been found beside his daughter to draw the sword in her defence. This was attributed either to culpable negligence of his own affairs, or to the influence of the Spanish ambassador. Not Gondomar himself, who was too shrewd to act thus, but certainly his friends and Catholics generally, let their joy at this event be known. The citizens responded with manifestations that were directed against the King himself. A placard was put up in which he was told that he would be made to feel the anger of the people, if in this affair he any longer followed a policy opposed to its views.
James I could no longer put off the question what steps he was to take. The tidings reached him at Newmarket, where he was spending the cold and gloomy days in hunting. He broke off this amusement and hastened to Westminster, in order to attend council with his ministers.
Towards the end of December a meeting was held, in which the secretary Naunton depicted the whole position of the foreign policy of England, and drew from it the conclusion that the King must above all arm, as in that case he could carry on war, or at least negotiate with firmness and some prospect of success. King James himself brought the affair of Bohemia under discussion. He complained, and seemed to feel it as an injury to his paternal authority, that the Elector Frederick even now continued to make the acknowledgment of his right to the crown of Bohemia a condition of his accepting the mediation offered by the King. Viscount Doncaster, who had just returned from a mission to Germany, fell on his knees before him, in order to remark to him that Frederick deserved no blame for clinging to a right which he supposed to be valid: that his refusal was not addressed to James as a father, but as King of England.[406] James I distinctly stated afresh that he could not and would not espouse the cause of his son-in-law in Bohemia. But by this time not only was Frederick's new crown as good as lost, but his whole existence was endangered; the greater part of his hereditary territory was in the enemy's hands. James declared with unusual decision that he would not allow the Palatinate, which would one day descend to his grandchildren, to be wrested from them; that he was resolved to send to the Continent in the next year an army sufficient to reconquer it. It might be asked if this measure also would not inevitably lead to a breach with Spain. King James did not think so. He thought that he could carry on a merely local quarrel, and yet at the same time avoid a war on the part of the one power against the other. He did not intend to attack the King of Spain's own dominion, so long as that sovereign did not meddle with his.
But however that might be, whether he was to begin war, though only on a limited scale, or whether he wished to prosecute negotiations with success, in any case it was necessary for him to arm. But for this purpose he required other means besides those of which he could dispose at his own discretion.