:^XV^01P^ ^J BLACKWELL'S rivfnvit Kvialnnd 'Jt ^^ V' ^ ^1-^S iZ^ Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2007 with funding from IVIicrosoft Corporation http://www.archive.org/details/commentariesonre01disruoft COMMENTARIES * ON THK LIFE AND REIGN OF CHARLES THE FIRST, KING OF ENGLAND. BY ISAAC DISRAELI. A NEW EDITION, REVISED BY THE AUTHOR, AND EDITF.D BY HIS SON. IN TWO VOLUMES. VOL I. LONDON : HENEY COLBURN, PUBLISHER, GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET. 1851. LONDON : BRADBUBV AND EVANS, PRIHTICR8, WHITBFBIAKS. ADYERTISEMENT BY THE EDITOE. Although this work, which was completely revised by my father, has been a long time in the press, and would, under any circumstances, have been pubhshed at this period, it so happens, that it appears at a moment when the subjects of which it treats, not only attract, but absorb, the mind of the nation. Its chapters on " the Genius of the Papacy," on the " Critical position of our earlier Protestant Sovereigns, with regard to their Roman Catholic subjects," from the consequences of the oaths of Allegiance and Supremacy ; on " the Study of Polemical Diviixity prevalent at the commencement of the Seventeenth Century," and kindred themes, are in fact the history of the events, the thoughts, the passions and the perplexities of the present agitated epoch. Nor does the domestic portion of these volumes disprove the principle, that history but repeats itself; and when we read of the conversions to the Roman faith then rife, especially among 62 ^ iv ADVERTISEMENT BY THE EDITOR. the elevated orders of the community, we seem to be listening to the startling narrative of the hour ; and instead of the names of the Countess of Buckinghamshire, the Lord Keeper Weston, or the Lady Falkland, are almost tempted to substitute those of personages, who live in our sight and personal knowledge. These volumes form the second part of that complete edition of my father s works, of which the edition of the " Curiosities of Literature," in three volumes, recently published, supplies the first. His Miscellaneous works, containing his " Fragment of the History of EngUsh Literature," will conclude this edition, and form three additional volumes. D. HOOHENDEH MaNOR, December, 1850, rREEAOE TO THIS NEW EDITION. BY THE AUTHOR I HAVE long considered the age of Charles the First as the most favourable epoch for the purposes of historical and philosophical investigation. It was an age when unsettled opinions and contested principles produced such a variety of human conduct, that all that has happened, or is happening, since, seems only a repetition of attempts at what was then first discovered to be impossible ; a consummation of what was then left unfinished ; or a furtherance of what then remained imperfect. This history has been frequently written, and even now occupies the studies of foreigners. It has excited such vehement but opposite feelings among the most eminent men in our nation, that we almost despair of an impartial narrative. An inteUigent foreigner has observed, that since the days of our first Charles, English histories are the polemics of politics. The Monarchist and the Common- wealth-man have bequeathed their mutual recriminations and their reciprocal calumnies. At a later period, when Whigs and Tories infused their controversies into their degraded history, trying events and persons by their own vi PREFACE TO THIS NEW EDITION. conventional tests, they judged of their ancestors as of their contemporaries ; narrowing their views by their own notions, their own interests, and their own passions. Such partial estimates of human actions and modes of tliinking, may become anachronisms in morals and in politics. This work which was published, at intervals, many years ago, in a domestic revolution (1830-2), has not been unsuccessful in obtaining the sympathy of the public, probably, in a chief degree, from the novelty of its plan ; and, it is to be hoped, to some extent, from the impartiality of its researches and the justness of its views. I have assuredly not written these pages as a partisan. I was attracted to the subject early in life, because it seemed to me rich in all that interests the moral speculator. I believe that I have composed these volumes solely as the history of human nature. These " Commentaries " aim at forming a necessary supplement to our knowledge of an eventful age, by investigating still controverted topics of paramount and enduring interest, and by throwing light upon personages and occurrences through the combination of secret with public history. With regard to my authorities, I have not chosen to cover the margin with perpetual references for facts with which few readers are unacquainted, and to books too well known to require a transcription of their titles. When- ever my narrative, or my opinions, are founded on manu- script information, I have scrupulously registered the PREFACE TO THIS NEW EDITION. vu authorities. During the many years in which this period has attracted my study, I have, at various times, examined a variety of unpubHshed diaries, and a vast mass of unpubHshed correspondence, connected with it. We are furnished with materials for the history of human nature, to which the ancients could have no access. One parti- cular department seems peculiar to our own times — the history of negotiations in the despatches of ambassadors. By them we may best learn the genius which prevailed when the transactions occurred. The narrative opens a living scene, and the motives of the personages are some- times as apparent as their actions. It is not fanciful to say, that we often know more of our ancestors than they themselves knew. Many a secret for them is none for us. The letter which was prayed to be thrown into the flames when read, we hold in our hands : the cabinet conversa- tion, unheard but by two great statesmen, we can listen to. They viewed the man in his occasional actions ; we scrutinise into his entire life. They marked the beginnings, but we the ends. The reader will not fail to observe, that the " Mercure Francois" is frequently quoted in these volumes as authority. Many years have elapsed since, struck by the curious and important information which was constantly afforded by this journal, I observed that " the ancient ' Mercure Francois ' is a sort of official annual register of the times, and contains a good deal of our own secret history, which I have found to my surprise, so accurate, that I am viii PREFACE TO THIS NEW EDITION. convinced that it must have come from a well-informed correspondent in England. It is, perhaps, singular enough that I have found in two or three instances, circumstances and conversations in this ' Mercure ' which I have myself drawn from contemporary manuscripts, and which had never been printed in any Enghsh Work." Since these observations were made, I have discovered a fact apparently unknown even to the French Biblio- graphers : viz., that Cardinal Richelieu was a frequent correspondent of this journal, and that even the king him- self, Louis the Thirteenth, often contributed to its columns. Many articles in the royal hand-writing and corrected by the royal hand, are still in existence. With regard to the Cardinal, the style and the hand of the great minister are easily to be recognised. Besides exercising a constant supervision over the " Mercure," and himself waging the war of words whenever the contest was important, Richelieu furnished treaties of alliances, capitulations, narratives of battles and sieges, written by the commanders, and the despatches of ambassadors whenever they contained any facts which he desired should be known to Europe. Many, of these articles are found in the Manuscripts of De Bethune. T will not omit in this, the last preface that I shall ever write, the acknowledgment of the obhging confidence of the present Earl of St. Germans, in entrusting me with the manuscripts of Sir John Ehot. His lordship called my attention to the notice, which I had taken of his memorable ancestor, in a communication alike distinguished for its PREFACE TO THIS NEW EDITION. ix elegance, its courteousness, and its information. By the aid of these papers, I was enabled to throw some fresh light upon the character of a very eminent personage, whose career had hitherto baffled the researches of our historians. To my ever kind and valued friend, the Rt. Hon. John Wilson Crokee, whose luminous and acute intelligence is as remarkable in his love of literature and art, as it has been in the course of a long, an honourable, and distin- guished public life, I stand deeply indebted for access to the Conway Papers, which, by permission of the late Marquess of Hertford, to whom these volumes had de- scended, he afforded me. I have received aid from other friends, and gther manuscripts, which I have acknowledged in my notes. I have particularly drawn much information from the MS. negotiations of Melchior de Sabran, who was the French resident in England during the years 1644 and 1645. Of these there are two folio volumes in our National Library, but there are eight volumes of these inedited negotiations in the extraordinary collection of Sir Thomas Phillipps, Bart., of Worcestershire ; a collection of many thousand manu- scripts, which must rank its zealous owner among the Sloanes and the Harleys of former days. Maif, 1847. CONTENTS OF VOLUME 1. CHAPTER I. PAGE CHARLES THE FIRST ........ I CHAPTER II. OF CHARLES THE FIRST DURING HIS BOYHOOD .... 4 CHAPTER III. OF THE STUDY OP POLEMICAL DIVINITY, PREVALENT AT THE COM- MENCEMENT OF THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY . . .15 CHAPTER IV. SECRET HISTORY OF THE SPANISH MATCH . . . . . 26 CHAPTER V. SECRET HISTORY OF THE FRENCH MATCH. ROYAL AND POLITICAL MARRIAGES 48 CHAPTER VI. OF THE CRITICAL AND VARIABLE SITUATION OF THE ENGLISH SOVEREIGNS, WITH REGARD TO THEIR ROMAN CATHOLIC SUBJECTS 77 CHAPTER VII. THE GENIUS OF THE PAPACY . . . . . . .109 CONTENTS. CHAPTER VIII. PAOB CHARLES ASCENDS THK THRONE. THE FIRST PARLIAMENT. ARRIVAI. OF THE QUEEN. SECRET HISTORY OF THE KINo's FIRST mNISTERS. BUCKINGHAM. WILLIAMS. — LAUI) . 122 CHAPTER IX. THE coronation: POLITICAL ETIQUETTE . . . .139 CHAPTER X. THE EXPEDITION TO CADIZ. — THE EARL OF WIMBLEDON . J45 CHAPTER XI. MEETING OF THE SECOND PARLIAMENT. — THE CONTENTION BETWEEN THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM AND THE EARL OF BRISTOL . 15 J CHAPTER XII. IMPEACHMENT OF BUCKINGIL^M BY THE COMMONS . . . 16l CHAPTER XIII. OF THE PRINCIPAL ARTICLE OF THE IMPEACHMENT OF BUCKING- HAM : SECRET HISTORY OF THE LOAN OF ENGLISH SHIPS TO SERVE AGAINST THE FRENCH PROTESTANTS . . . 174 CHAPTER XIV. MEANS RESORTED TO BY THE KINO TO RAISE SUPPLIES WITHOUT IHE AID OF PARLIAMENT . 18' CHAPTER XV. •SECRET HISTORY OF THE QUEEN's HOUSEHOLD, AND OF THE ATIEMPT TO ORGANISE A FRENCH AND CATHOLIC FACTION IN THE ENGLISH COURT » 100 CONTENTS. CHAPTER XVI. PAGE WAR WrXH FRANCE. CAUSES OF THE WAR. NATURE OF THE PROTESTANT PARTY IN FRANCE. EXPEDITION TO LA ROCHELLE '219 CHAPTER XVII. STATE OF AFFAIRS AFTER THE FAILURE OF THE EXPEDITION TO LA ROCHELLE 241 CHAPTER XVIII. MEETING OF THE THIRD PARLIAMENT, 1628 .... 240 CHAPTER XIX. THE HISTORY OF THE KING's CONDUCT WITH REGARD TO THE PETITION OF RIGHT . . . . . . . . 254 CHAPTER XX. RECONCILIATION WITH WILLIAMS. SIEGE OF ROCHELLE, SECOND EXPEDITION. ASSASSINATION OF BUCKINGHAM . . . 275 CHAPTER XXI. CHARACTER OF THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM . . . . . 986 CHAPTER XXII. OF ROYAL FAVOURITES . . . . . . . .295 CHAPTER XXIII. CHARLES THE FIRST AFTER THE DEATH OF BUCKINGHAM. DIS- SOLUTION OF THE THIRD PARLIAMENT, 1629 . . . . 305 CHAPTER XXIV. THE FIRST PATRIOTS 315 xiv CONTENTS. CHAPTER XXV. I'AOE ORIGIN OF THE ANTI-MONARCHICAL PRINCIPLE IN MODERN EUROPi: 33« CHAPTER XXVI. CHARLES THE FIRST CORRECTS TWO GREAT ERRORS IN HIS CONDUCT 360 CHAPTER XXVII. SOME OBSERVATIONS ON THE CHARACTER OF THE KING . 366 CHAPTER XXVIII. OF THE NEW ADMINISTRATION . . . . . . . 370 CHAPTER XXIX. THE FIRST POLITICAL APOSTATES. — SIR T. WENTWORTH. — NOY, THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL . . 378 CHAPTER XXX. OF THE NEW MINISTERS. — LAUD 390 CHAPTER XXXI. PRIVATE LIFE OF CHARLES THE FIRST. — LOVE OF THE ARTS . 399 CHAPTER XXXII. THE INFLUENCE OF THE QUEEN ON THE KINO's CONDUCT . . 420 CHAPTER XXXIII. THE PERCY FAMILY. ALGERNON, EARL OF NORTHUMBERLAND, AND THE COUNTESS OF CARLISLE 441 I CONTENTS. CHAPTER XXXIV. PAOB THE CORONATION IN SCOTLAND . . . . . . . 457 CHAPTER XXXV. A CRITICAL HISTORY OF THE PURITANS. OF THEIR ORIGIN . 408 CHAPTER XXXVI. THE CRITICAL HISTORY OF THE PURITANS CONTINUED. HISTORY OF THE MAR-PRELATES . 475 CHAPTER XXXVII. CRITICAL HISTORY OF THE PURITANS CONTINUED. — OF THE POLITICAL CHARACTER OF CALVIN 489 CHAPTER XXXVIII. CRITICAL HISTORY OF THE PURITANS CONCLUDED. OF THE PER- PLEXING CONTRADICTIONS IN THEIR POLITICAL CHARACTER, AND WHY THEY WERE AT ONCE THE ADVOCATES AND THE ADVERSARIES OF CIVIL AND RELIGIOUS FREEDOM . . . 498 CHAPTER XXXIX. HISTORY OF AI-EXANDER LEIGHTON, AND OF THE FAMOUS STATE- LIBEL OF " SIONo PLEA AGAINST PRELACY*' . . . 514 APPENDIX. SIR JOHN ELIOT. HIS CORRESPONDENCE DURING HIS IMPRISON- MENT IN THE TOWER 629 ■^Rr LIFE AND REIGN CHARLES THE FIRST. CHAPTEE I. CHARLES THE FIRST. Two centuries have elapsed — a short period in the history of national revolutions^ since Charles the First ascended the throne of England, and the name of this monarch still awakens the most conflicting opinions. Yet a right understanding of the character and conduct of one who involuntarily became a most eminent actor in a mighty revolution, can never be a matter of indifference to the philosopher and the politician ; nor should such an exhibition of human nature, where the ennobling and the degrading passions are at the same time called forth, fail to interest our common sympathies. Charles the First ascended the throne under circumstances in which no monarch had hitherto been placed. The course of events had rendered necessary a great change in the condition of mankind throughout Europe ; for the social system was constructed on a scale which bore no relation to the increased and complicated- interests of society. The impending Revolution was not to be a partial change, as had sometimes happened, when the rule and power had been merely transferred to the aristocracy, or to the hierarchy, or. assumed by the abso- lute sovereign ; nor was it to be a temporary concession to the excited apathy of a suffering people, a chasgg which merely VOL. I. B 2 CHARLES THE FIRST. reduced the privileges of the few and the miseries of the many. But it was to be a total change ; to abolish certain fundamental doctrines, to mark out new classes in society, to raise up new interests, to define new rights, and to substitute new modes of thinking. And, finally and chiefly, it was to develope the true principles of government, and to explain and confirm the source and object of all delegated authority. It was long doubtful in which country the great Revolution was to commence. During the minority of Louis the Thirteenth, the ambition of the turbulent princes of France, the republican character of the Duke of llohan and the Hugonots, and the bold remonstrances of the Parliaments or Law-Courts, exhibit some faint outlines of the Revolution under our Charles the First, which all these had preceded. In an ingenious parallel we might detect some very apt resemblances. The genius of one man directed for a time the tempest from France, and conse- quently from the Continent ; for there are reasons to believe that the social condition of the Continent of Europe will never be materially afifected, except through the agency of our great neighbour. The Frondeurs, under the later administration of Mazarin, often appealed to the English revolt under Charles the First; and finally the vast concussion of France in our days opened in imitation of our own, and terminated with a similar catastrophe. There were peculiar reasons which might have justified the supposition, that England would be the spot in which the important struggle would commence. The establishment of the reformed faith had habituated the English to a greater freedom of inquiry than their neighbours, a freedom of inquiry unknown in preceding times, when authority was the sole test of opinion ; and a long and luxuriant peace had raised up among the Commons of England a new class of men ; — new, by possess- ing a weight and influence in society which they had never before held. There were other causes, which, though not so evident, were scarcely less influential, but which must be deve- loped as we proceed. It was fated that England should be the theatre of the first of a series of Revolutions which is not yet finished. Authorised in believing, by the doctrines of the age, by his CHARLES THE FIRST. 3 consequent education, and by the natural gravity and elevation of his own mind, that he ascended the throne as the anointed of his Creator, it was the doom of Charles the First to witness the divine authority of his crown trampled upon, the might of his magnificent hierarchy overwhelmed, the civil institutions of his realm swept away, all that he deemed sacred profaned, all that he held received denied, all that he considered established subverted ; and in their stead new doctrines and new practices introduced, many of which were monstrous, and all extraordinary. In this unparalleled state of affairs, for we must never forget that in our Revolution history afforded no parallel to instruct and to warn, instead of disappearing from the stage, like an insignificant actor overwhelmed by the unexpected importance of his part, we find, on the contrary, the English monarch the most eminent, the most energetic, and the most interesting' personage, during the long, the fearful, and the dubious struggle* When the struggle was over the King came forward, and closed his career by a most memorable death — dying with the same decision with which he had lived ; and while he was covered with execration and obloquy as the Tyrant by one party, who feared that if he were not a tyrant they would necessarily be considered traitors, he was hailed by the greater portion of the nation with prayers and tears as the Martyr. It is difficult to believe that a man who thus lived and thus died could have been that individual whom it has always been the supposed interest of a successful party to represent. Tyrant and Martyr are rarer characters than mankind is accustomed to consider them ; and they often vanish before the impartial student, who, searching neither for the tyrant nor the martyr, dares to seek into history for the man. We have hitherto obtained but a slight acquaintance with the personal character of Charles the First ; for it has been assumed by those who have been unable to make the King despicable, that the private character of a monarch stands unconnected with his public one. But it is as impossible to form a just conception of the character of a king without becoming acquainted with his private history, his motives as well as his conduct, as it is to form a just conception of the individual, without becoming acquainted with the times in B 2 4 CHARLES THE FIRST wliicli he lived. We are not, therefore, surprised that those who maintain that the private character of Charles the First is unconnected with his public one, have judged of that public character as if he were their contemporary. The characteristic of the mind of Charles the First was that inflexible firmness to which we attach the idea of strength of character. Constancy of purpose, perseverance to obtain the object, and fortitude to suffer for it, this is the beautiful unity of a strong character. We should, however, observe, that this strength of character is not necessarily associated with the most comprehensive understanding, any more than the most com- prehensive understanding is necessarily supported by this moral force. Hence the stronger the character of the man the stronger may be its errors, and thus its very strength may become its greatest infirmity. In speculating upon the life of Charles the First, through all the stages of his varied existence, from the throne to the scaffold, we may discover the same intellectual and moral being. Humiliated by fortune, beneath the humblest of his people, the King himself remained un- changed j and whether we come to reproach, or to sympathise, something of pity and terror must blend with the story of a noble mind wrestling with unconquerable Fate. CHAPTER II. OF CHARLES THE FIRST DURING HIS BOYHOOD. We may be excused for unfolding the minuter characteristics of a young prince, those obscure intimations of the future per- sonal dispositions, which Alfieri has called Sviluppo delV indole indicato da vari fattarelli, " development of the natural dis- position indicated by various little matters," for in this respect princes differ from other men; their early characteristics are not likely to change. The youth of princes is seldom passed in submission. Surrounded by those who seek by compliance, or officiousness, to cultivate a friendship with their future sovereign, princes are unfortunate enough to be flattered even in their boyhood. This, and the impossibility of being influenced by DURING HIS BOYHOOD. 5 those circumstances which make other men the creatures of events, and dependent on the caprice of fortune, effectually pre- vent their early character from changing, and render the conduct of their life subordinate to their constitutional dispositions. In the history of one who was remarkable for a hardy frame tried by unwearied activity, who during his long imprisonment had never need of a physician, and who, at his death, exhibited those physical appearances which are indicative of longevity, it may deserve notice that he was born, and lived some years, in a state of extreme debility, and that he struggled with, and over- came, several personal defects. Circumstances, apparently trivial, in the history of Charles the First, had often the fatality of connecting themselves with the unsettled disputes of the Church and the State. The acci- dental circumstance of the birth of this royal babe in a state of weakness, threatening a speedy dissolution, occasioned a hasty baptism; the place of ceremony unrecorded, the officiating person unnamed ; whose was the episcopal hand which had sprinkled the Martyr of the Church ? or had a Presbyterian teacher, as it was rumoured, administered the baptismal rite ? Such were the tormenting inquiries which agitated Church- men and Dissenters, in the protracted controversy of Lay- baptism. The ecclesiastics insisted that all non-conformists were mere laymen, a principle which was designed to invalidate their baptisms. Burnet, not hostile to the Presbyterian cause, at a later period alluded, in one of his charges, to the circum- stance recorded of Charles's un episcopal baptism ; this renewed the old heats with those who persevered in their axiom, that " Bishops and Presbyters were the same." The Dissenters had long exulted, and the Churchmen had long been mortified, that Charles had not received any of the benefits of episcopal baptism, when, a hundred and fifty years after the event. Carte startled the contending parties, and settled the dispute on the side he wished to favour, by referring to the document of " John Blin- sale. Hay Herald, who assisted at the baptism." In that hitherto unnoticed narrative was specified the name of the bishop, the royal chapel where the ceremony had passed, the minutest occurrences of the magnificent solemnity, the pall of 6 CHARLES THE FIRST gold, silver, and silk, " wrought as it was spoken, by his Ma- jesty's umqhuile mother," on which the bairn was laid, the names of tlie lords who bore the ducal crown, the laver, the towel, the bason, and, finally, the "Marchioness of Huntley, who bare the bairn instead of the nourrice." This discovery of Carte's instantly changed the former appearance of the question, and the Dissenters could no longer triumph in the obscure baptism of a prince, administered by a Presbyter. But if the ceremony of Charles's baptism had been thus solemnly performed, with all the pomp and regality of the Court, could it possibly have escaped the knowledge or the notice of Spotswood, who tells us, that " the christening was hastened because of the weakness of the child," or of Perinchief, the eulogist and advocate of Charles, who positively informs us, that " he was deprived of the usual ceremonies wherewith such royal infants are admitted into the Church." Who then is this Hay Herald Avho has marshalled knights, lords, and ladies, and heralds, preluding with a flourish of trumpets. Harris asserts, from internal evidence, the whole narrative to be a clumsy forgery ! Thus at the very threshold of our history we stumble on error, or imposture, a circumstance not rare in more important matters than the present,* relating to Charles the First. It must, however, be observed, that some circumstances which Harris brings forward as the mere inventions of an ignorant person, are not of the nature which he supposes them. The Hay Herald, he observes, represents " the Chancellor Cassils as present at the solemnity, though there was no such Chancellor then in being ; and he tells us that Monsieur de Rohan, and his brother called Monsieur de Soubise, were his Majesty's gossips, though the Scotch historians never mention their being in that kingdom." The Chancellor Cassils I must leave to the ♦ An idle antiquary might employ an hour in examining into the authenticity of this suspected record, it being in MS. in the Heralds' Office at Edinburgh (the Lyons' Office), written by John Blinsale, Hay Herald, who assisted at the baptism. It is entitled " An Account of the Birth and Baptism of King Charles the First." The subject ceases to interest us, but the detection of an historical forgery is always gratifying. This document was first printed by the Rev. Henry Cantrell, in " The Royal Martyr, a true Christian," &c., &c., 171G, long before Carte wrote. The Presbyter Harris fiercely disputed its authenticity, merely from party-feeling. DURING HIS BOYHOOD. 7 researches of the Scottish antiquary ; but as for Monsieur Soubise standing at the christening in Scotland as Charleses godfather, I find this very circumstance incidentally noticed in the Diary of Sir John Finett, the Master of the Ceremonies. Soubise^s brother, the Duke of Rohan, the eminent chief of the French Hugonots, was also in Scotland, and, by the desire of James, stood as godfather to Charles ; the circumstance is men- tioned in his life, and is incidentally alluded to by John Cookes, the Solicitor-General of the Commonwealth, in his statement of the King's case. This strongly corroborates the suspected narrative of the Hay Herald. By the expression of Spotswood, w^e can by no means infer that the episcopal and regal ceremo- nies were not performed ; and as for the vague style of Perinchief, as that book was written by one man, and published under the name of another, a circumstance none of our writers notice, its authority is not unquestionable.* It is certain that the infant Duke long continued in a weakly state, for many ladies who had been proud suitors for the keeping of the royal child were now deterred from soliciting this anxious charge. When in his fourth year, he was delivered to Lady Cary; that perfect courtier, her husband (afterwards the Earl of Monmouth), declares, that " those who wished him no good w^ere glad of it, thinking that if the Duke should die in our charge, then it would not be thought fit that we should remain in Court after.^' The EarFs candour is as admirable as his loyalty, for he was at least as fearful of losing his place, as of losing his Prince. The Earl of Monmouth has also alluded to "many a battle my wife had with the King, about slitting the string under the child^s tongue, and putting his legs into iron boots." The parental care of James was accompanied by all the force of argument, but, as was usual with him, he yielded up the point of debate. * Perinchief 's Life of Charles the First is of little value, but that little may be authentic, and it is frequently referred to. Perinchief must not, however, be con- sidered as writing from his own knowledge, for the materials were chiefly collected by the learned William Fulman, who at his death left them unfinished. Colonel Titus, the author of the famous political pamphlet " Killing no Murder," also sup- plied him with some notices for the two latter years of the King's life. Such assist- ance only proves that Perinchief himself was a poor workman. 8 CHARLES THE FIRST This physical weakness cast a sullen air over the manners of the young Prince, and Lilly sends down a tradition of the evil nature of his infancy " from the old Scottish lady his nurse/' His debility withdrew him from those sports and exercises in which his brother excelled, and contracting retired habits, Charles loved the hours of study. It is probable that these untoward circumstances led to the early formation of the reserved and thoughtful character of the future monarch, as well as conduced to the variety of his acquired knowledge. Charles had a vigilant tutor in Thomas Murray, a learned Scotchman, whom afterwards he chose for his secretary, and whose zeal he finally remunerated by the provostship of Eton. The unalterable aftection of the pupil for the tutor is a strong indication of the man. James the First, who has been so freely taxed with pusilla- nimity and folly, cannot, however, be reproached with having engendered them ; his children, Henry, Charles, and Elizabeth, alike sustained their princely character in the heroic elevation of their minds. There was no royal family in Europe which put forth such a promise of future excellence as these accom- plished Princes. Jonson was struck by the paternal zeal of James the First, whom, without court flattery, he addressed in a masque : " You are an honest, good man, and have care of your bairns ! " * King James, to provoke Henry to apply himself more ardently to his closet studies, had intimated that his brother, who already loved his books, would prove more able in the manage- ment of affairs, and the science of his favourite " king-craft," than he, who chiefly consumed his days in the tilt-yard, and passionately pursued his military exercises. The fatherly admo- nition was received in silence, but when his tutor. Sir Adam Newton, reiterated the King's reprimand, the Prince asked whether he really thought tliat his brother would prove so good * I find a curious anecdote of that zealous paternal attention of our " Pedant King," which I have not met elsewhere. James took such minute care of their education, that " the children of James were well instructed in music and dancing : his Majesty desired them to keep up their dancing privately, though they whistle and sing to one another for music." Harl. MSS. G987 (24). DURING HIS BOYHOOD. 9 a scholar ? Sir Adam was of tliat opinion. " Then," rejoined Henry, ^^ will I make him Archbishop of Canterbury." A spark of rivalry had been kindled between the royal brothers. When Charles was about ten years of age, the young Prince had already attracted observation by the progress of his studies, and by the warmth of his temper. The Princes, with Abbot, the Archbishop of Canterbury, and other noblemen, were waiting in the privy-chamber for an audience. Henry, in allusion to his brother^s proficiency in his studies, jocularly placed the Archbishop^s cap on his head, observing, " that if he continued a good boy, and followed his books, he would make him one day Archbishop of Canterbury." The little Prince indignantly flung down the square cap and trampled on it. Duke Charles, it would seem, had heard too frequently of the future Arch- bishopric, and the taunts from his heroic brother stung the little Prince into an ebullition of momentary feeling. This feeling was constitutional. Warm and hasty passion was long an infirmity with Charles, and one of which he was very sensible. At various periods of his life, the King used preventive means against being overcome by his natural impatience. In more than one interview, which was likely to lead to subjects where his feelings might seize on him unawares, it was preconcerted that these topics should not be debated by him, but left to his council. This defect in his temperament was one which, like his stammering, could only be mastered by a stronger impulse of the mind, as when he stood calm and unsubdued in the greatest day of his adversity. From this anecdote of the royal boys, the contemporaries of Charles, in the taste of the times, deduce opposite inferences. One detects a mystical presage of the future fall of episcopacy under his administration; to another it seemed peculiarly ominous of the fall of the Archbishop himself, who afterwards was suspended from his offices by the displeasure of his sove- reign ; a third, with the malignity of a Commonwealth's man, accepts it as an evidence of the latent suUenness and stubborn- ness of the future monarch; while an ultra-royalist, in the depth of his wisdom, discovers in it " a sign of bigness of spirit, and a humour that did not love jesting or levity." It is evident, that every one of these philosophers would have composed the 10 CHARLES THE FIEST history of Charles, on the principle which they had already so happily discriminated. So many historians, so many Charleses! The fraternal intercourse between the sons of James was, however, rarely interrupted ; for we have still left several familiar notes written in English, French, and Latin, by the Duke to the Prince. They are despatches of the hour, perhaps also the playful exercises of his studies. " Sweet sweet brother, I thank you for your letter. I will give anything that I have to you, but my toys and my books." Sometimes the little Duke visits Prince Henry's stables, and mounts his great horses, ^' that on his return he may wait on him in that noble exercise." Then there are thanks for two bidets which Henry sends him — or it is an invitation to walk together — or a detail of the studies of the week. Welwood says of Charles, that he wrote " a tolerable hand for a King." The republican whig grudgingly allows a Stuart, and a monarch, even the humble distinction of caligraphy. The truth is, that the hand-writing of Charles, like all his other acquirements, was elegant, and opposite to the slovenly scribble of his father, who, careless in all exterior things, too lightly esteemed the habit of distinct writing; a habit, it may be worth observing to some, which gives pleasure in the intercourse of friendship, and promotes accuracy in that of business. The skilful in autographs may like to learn, that Charles the First's hand-writing, and, perhaps, no man ever wrote more, always free and flowing, as he advanced in life and in reflection became more and more regularly formed, and finally contracted into slender elegance. In a French letter to Prince Rupert unsigned, he observes, J*espere que vous connoitrez ma petite main. I have seen some notes to his children, written during his close con- finement in his latter days, which are remarkable for the delicacy of their Italic character. In the long leisure and still meditations of imprisoned solitude, the fond remembrance of his children seems to have moved the pen in tracing every word so carefully written. Charles overcame his corporeal infirmities in his youth, but liis defective speech seems to have lasted some years. It was probably the real cause of his brevity in conversation : he used few words ; and we smile at Sir Henry Herbert, the Master of DURING HIS BOYHOOD. 11 the Revels, entering the royal words in his diary, on some occasion when the King gave him a favourable answer to his request, "because his master's custom affords not so many words/' The singular gravity, the deficient freedom in conver- sation, and the reserved manners of Charles the First, struck the Count de Brienne as uncommon circumstances, which made it difficult to decide on the Prince's character. When Cardinal de Richelieu curiously pressed the Count to be informed of the genius of the monarch, De Brienne replied, " To me he appeared extremely reserved, and this induces me to judge that he is either an extraordinary man, or one of a very middling capacity. If he affected this retenue to prevent any jealousy on the late King his father's side, this would be a mark of his consummate prudence ; but if it be quite natural to him, and without any finesse, I should draw very opposite conclusions." From this oracular style the Cardinal could not have gathered much. The truth is, that it was too nice a point for the critical and youthful diplomatist, recently returned from the English Court, to ven- ture a decision upon; nor could he know that the habitual reserve of the Prince originated, in great part, in the pain which conversation occasions him whose speech is not fluent. The King's difficult utterance rendered his addresses from the throne painful to himself and the Parliament. This early compelled him to have the Lord-Keeper recite his speeches, a circumstance which his' friends considered, however trivial it may appear, as having had an unfavourable influence on his affairs. It is our own voice alone, whose modulations can give sanction to our feelings. Charles closed his first speech to Parliament, the only ungracious passage in it, by this declara- tion : — " Now, because I am unfit for much speaking, I mean to bring up the fashion of my predecessors, to have my Lord- Keeper speak for me in most things, therefore have commanded him to speak something unto you at this time, which is more for formality, than any great matter he hath to say unto you." After the death of his brother Henry, Charles appears to have felt the propriety of turning his attention to those hardier pursuits which he had hitherto avoided ; and it was not long ere he excelled in the fashionable accomplishments of the gentleman of that day ; the manly exercises of vaulting, archery, running 12 CHARLES THE FIRST at the ring, and the manege of the great horse ; shooting in the cross-bow, musket, and " the great ordnance." In the tennis- court he toiled with the racquet ; and to his last days, those of liis imprisonment, loved the tranquil recreation of the bowling- green. By active sports he invigorated his frame. One who knew Charles, describes him as " a laborious fieldsman ; " and another tells us, that he was thought to be the most adroit manager of the great horse of any man in the three nations, and a sharp marksman ; he chased a winter-deer as skilfully, which is one of the hardest tasks of " a woodsman," as he excelled in shooting one. At the age of nineteen he distinguished himself among the young nobility in a feat of arms at a justing at Whitehall, and in such a manner, that it was imagined that Prince Charles would become as eminently military as his late brother; and at the later period of his marriage, the Count de Brienne noticed the adroitness of our royal cavalier, " in break- ing some lances, in this chivalric exercise." Whatever art and practice could acquire, he gained; the lighter graces were denied him. Thus early Charles surmounted the obstacles which nature had cast in his way. The languid indolence of the closet, deeply attached as he was to study, and to the more pleasing arts, failed to seduce him entirely, and the intrepidity of his after-life, through all its vicissitudes, was never disturbed by his personal deprivations. Not even*the many who watched him with no friendly eyes have presumed to accuse him of that impatient querulousness, which betrays its moments of weakness. At the age of sixteen, Charles was created Prince of Wales, and held a Court ; but he lived in no political opposition to his father, a habit which has been assumed by some heirs of the English crown. His late brother had opened with a different career, and had roused the jealousy of his father, and the fears of Cecil. Whatever may be the policy of the heir to the crown in conducting himself in direct opposition to the interests and views of the Cabinet, some dangerous results must occur, both at home and abroad. At home his cause will combine together the dispersed and insulated members of perhaps very heterogeneous factious into one formidable body. A common DUEING HIS BOYHOOD. 13 interest is tlius created for those -who else would never have acted together. It is certain that the family politics of the English Court have not been indifferent to foreign Cabinets. The Gaul, the Spaniard, and the Austrian, have often been solicitous to raise a party in this kingdom subservient to their own peculiar interests ; and whenever the heir of the English throne suffers his inclinations to be controlled by intriguers around him, he runs the risk of becoming, unconsciously, the ally of the enemies of his country. The Ambassador La Boderie advises the French Cabinet not to neglect granting certain pensions to four or five of Prince Henry's Court, by whom it seems these favours were expected, since that young Prince was entirely under their influence, and had resolved to maintain a political independence at the Court of his father. There were not wanting in that day some busy spirits, who, now finding their "occupation gone," ascribed to the sedate temper of the youthful Charles a narrowness of genius, and natural incapability of entering into their higher political speculations. But Charles most certainly looked up to his father with reverence and affection ; and if the name of James the First fail in some degree to excite the same feelings in the minds of this later age, we must attribute this result to the unjust oblivion of some virtues, and of no inconsiderable talents. In his youth, Charles must have been laying the foundations of that various knowledge, and that habitual and curious obser- vation in all the arts, both the fine and the mechanical, which once induced this ingenious Prince to declare that " he thought he could get his living, if driven by necessity, by any of the arts and trades which he knew how to practise." Once, in famihar conversation, the Prince made a remarkable observation, that if he were necessitated to take any particular profession for a living, he could not be a lawyer, for, said Charles, " I cannot defend a bad cause, nor yield in a good cause;" a principle from which he never swerved, if we are to decide by the actions of his after-life. Charles had studied the art of war, and indeed the King afterwards proved himself to be one of the most able generals It CHARLES THE FIRST. in the Civil Wars. He was not unskilled in fortification ; and that science which has been called naval architecture, a study not unworthy the pursuits of an island-monarch, had particularly engaged his attention ; for one of his most magnificent measures was " building that miracle of ships called the Royal Sovereign ;" and when he was reminded of the vast charge it required, he observed, " that while some nobles prodigally spent their patri- mony in luxurious courses, nothing either to their credits or reputation, or beneficial to the kingdom, as King he might be allowed to build that ship for his pleasure, which might be useful for the service of the kingdom." * The more delightful arts he pursued with intense pleasure, for this monarch was not only a lover of art, but could himself have aspired to the honours of an artist. These, however, had not absorbed his studies. The library of St. James's, before the Civil Wars, contained a manuscript volume, which Charles in his youth had presented to his father, consisting of his literary collections and other epitomes, the fruits of juvenile studies. But these philosophical and ingenious pursuits have been barbarously censured as mean and trivial in a monarch. The arts and sciences were considered by the rigid Puritanic politi- cians merely as sources of emolument for the mechanics who professed them. The intellectual part of these studies — the meditation, and the elegance, and the knowledge, which disci- pline the mind in the progress of invention, had never rectified their crude principles, softened their harsh tempers, or illumined their dark minds. These studies, not unworthy of a sovereign, would have reflected his tastes among a people, whose fanaticism had so long persecuted the finer arts ; and our nation would not have suffered the reproach of foreign critics, who, ignorant of our history, ventured to assign the natural causes which, as they imagined, incapacitated us from excelling in the practice of the arts of imagination and sensibility. Charles the First, had it been his happiness to have reigned in peace, would have anticipated by a century the glory of English art. * Lilly. POLEMICAL DIVINITY. 15 CHAPTER III. OF THE STUDY OF POLEMICAL DIVINITY, PREVALENT AT THE COMMENCEMENT OF THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. There was one particular course of studies in which James the First himself had instructed his son — that of the dogmas and the controversies of the theology of the times. In these pursuits Charles was a docile pupil, and in his first speech to Parliament, to repel the malicious rumour of his inclination towards the Roman See, he proudly declared, "I may, with St. Paul, say, that I have been trained up at Gamaliels feet." His father advised the Prince's chaplains, who went to Spain, not to engage in unnecessary disputations on religion ; but if challenged, the Prince would be moderator, and observing them smile, he earnestly added — ^it is said he swore, that " Charles could manage a point in controversy with the best studied divine of ye all." Nor was the commendation partial. In the celebrated conference with the Presbyter Henderson, the King, without books for reference, or a secretary by his side, during a tedious fortnight,* fought that memorable theological logomachy, till the hoary adversary of episcopacy, covered with the dust of his library, retired with a broken spirit. It is probable that neither convinced the other ; but this did not the less exhaust the old man's vexation, and may have accelerated his death. To these studies Whitelocke ascribes that aptitude of Charles the First, which enabled him to excel as a summer-up of argu- ments, and endowed him with such a clear perception in delivering his decisions. The King's readiness in contracting a lengthened, and methodising an involved discussion, was remarked by another great lawyer. Sir Robert Holborne : he observed that " the King could drive a matter into a head with more sharpness than any of his privy council." This readiness * By the Gesta Britannorum of Sir George Wharton, it appears that " this dis- pute between the King and Mr. Henderson began at Newcastle, May 29th, and it did not end till June 16th." 10 POLEMICAL DIVINITY. was his prominent characteristic, and the King himself was well aware of it. Sensible that he could correct with acute judg- ment, rather than compose with freedom and feitility, the King carefully revised the papers which he commanded others to write, observing that "he was a better cobbler than a shoe- maker.'' Lord Bolingbroke has severely ridiculed James the First for his polemical divinity, and a hundred echoes are still multiply- ing Pope's " Pedant King." But this it is, to be a philosopher without being an antiquary ; the generalisations of history are too often substituted for the real knowledge of particulars, merely because the philosopher is ignorant of them. An invective against royal pedantry would always be plausible ; but the inquiry, whether there were any pedantry at all displayed on this occasion, could not occur to those who find it convenient to try events and opinions by the standard of their own age ; and who seem to narrow human nature to their own horizon. But to transform our forefathers into ourselves, is to lose all likeness of the originals, and to throw into the back ages the notions of our own times is a moral anachronism, a source as fertile of errors as the passions of parties have been of more unjust misrepresentations. The true historian is a contem- porary of the past. Polemical studies were not the peculiar tastes of James and Charles, as is commonly imagined. Ere the reign of the "Pedant King," and long after, they occupied the most eminent scholars in our nation. They had not been considered unworthy of royalty itself, and it is from a slender volume of polemical divinity, that our sovereigns still derive one of their regal distinctions. Even Elizabeth acknowledged that she had read as much controversial divinity as any divine, and main- tained her supremacy in the Church, as well as in the State, by the arguments of which she was a mistress. Laud put forth his elaborate reply to Fisher, the Jesuit, to repair the open breaches of the beleaguering Romanist; a volume whicli Charles recommended to his son, to guard him from the artifices of Rome, and which even extorted from the great Puritanic republican, Sir Edward Deering, the applause, that Laud had struck the Papist on the fifth rib. The POLEMICAL DIVINITY. 17 "Apology for the English Church," by Jewel, was chained in churches, to be opened at all times by the way-faring reader. Were not the days of the learned Usher harassed by the challenges of Jesuits? And after all, however skilfully these might be refuted, that great controversialist felt not always sure that the antidote completely operated against the poison ; for, in addressing the Oxford librarian. Usher advised him to be careful that " the English papist-books be kept in a place by themselves, and not placed in the library, for they may prove dangerous." So that a Protestant Archbishop could even resort to the arts of a Spanish Inquisitor, who casts all the volumes of heresy into the darkest corners, or incarcerates them under the strongest locks. Did not Lord Falkland enter the lists with the Roman Catholic, Thomas White, with "A Dis- course of Infallibility ? " Are that accomplished Lord's learned speech in the House, and his friend the great Chillingworth's treatise on "Episcopacy," to be condemned for that pedantry of polemical divinity which Lord Bolingbroke, with so many others unlearned in British history, ridicule with such a reckless philosophy in James and Charles ? But the age of the first Stuarts was pre-eminently an age of POLEMICAL divinity; an age of doctrines and controversies, and what may be justly termed artificial theology. It was then not only a warfare of the Roman tenets with the Protestant creed, but of new races split into Arians and Arminians, and Calvinists, who ambitiously had combined with political parties. The aff'airs even of Protestant nations were then connected with synods. Politicians concealed themselves under the short mantle and band of doctors of divinity. The awful themes of predestination, — free-will, — election, — reprobation, — and the resistibility or irresistibility of grace, — the questions whether the essence of God was quale and tantum, whether his eternity was only an eviternity, and how the Divinity could multiply himself in himself — were the melancholy studies which agitated the irascible spirits of the age. Men seemed to rest their future salvation in enormous folios, which it was easier to devour than to digest. These controversies now only attract the eye by their formidable array as we view their champions marshalled on the shelves of a public library ; there only can we judge of VOL. I. c 18 POLEMICAL DIVINITY. that vast consumption of human life which they cost their victims — their writers and their readers ! After the labours and the persecutions, the hatreds and the agonies of long centuries, these doctrines and these dogmas, defended or con- futed, were found to be interminable as that memorable dispute between the Dominicans and the Franciscans, which the Pope wisely set at rest by decreeing that it should never be decided ! The great policy of Rome, to avoid schisms, has always been to elude the discussion of inconvenient topics. Futile and nugatory as were the subjects of these disputa- tions between Roman Catholics and Protestants, and ludicrously mean those between the Presbyter and the Episcopalian, yet in that learned age these themes involved the dignity of erudition and the powers of logic ; all the resources of a ready, an acute, and a luminous mind. He was the most successful polemic, whose disciplined memory could most promptly flourish the keenest weapons on his own side, while he pressed in triumph on the blunted and broken arms of his antagonist. The assailant was slowly to circumvent, or rapidly to storm, the weakest points of his opponent ; but the art to retreat was as great as the skill to attack. In the vacillation of the disputants, victory hung on the subtilty of an argument ; and the omission of an authoritative text, or the surprise of an ambiguous one, might shake the whole arrangement of a system of doctrine. Had these vain and oflfuscating disputations only tormented the heated heads of a few dreaming recluses, or a few acrid partizans, they would have merited but an obscure notice in the history of England; but they had penetrated into the recesses of domestic life, and theological disputations were con- stantly carrying on in private houses, in the presence of the head of the family who was gained or lost by the fortune of the Thesis ; and there have been families where the disputation, like a law-suit, has devolved from the grandfather to the grand- son. The gentry were reading and writing tomes of religious controversy ; in the country, whole parishes were disturbed by the public disputations held by the Papist or the Puritan, and many were the lapses of the backsliders into Romanism. Some Protestants, to humble the Puritans, were earnestly looking about for a reunion with the Roman Catholics, for they had POLEMICAL DIVINITY. 19 observed, not without dread, the Puritanic party, like one in our own times, starting up among all ranks of society. Let us now draw the curtain, and exhibit the domestic pictures of the Romanist and the Puritan in the days of Charles the First. The most complete picture of the English Catholics is one by their own hand, touched by the warmth and fulness of secret confidence. Panzani, the concealed agent of Rome, in a secret report, reckons the English Catholics at one hundred and fifty thou- sand, forming no inconsiderable portion of the higher class of English subjects. In the first rank of nobility were Catholics, who, though making no open profession, were living in great fear, anxious to preserve the royal favour. When these enter- tained a disguised priest in their house, it was unknown to their servants, and not even confided to their children. Some,. as Protestants, frequented churches, took the oaths, and occa- sionally spoke against Catholics ; yet in their hearts they were papistical, and concealed one or more priests under their roof. Panzani assures his master that almost all the principal Protes- tant nobility, secular and ecclesiastical, who had died when he was in London, although generally reputed Protestants, had died in the Roman faith. However partial Panzani's account may be deemed, it is unquestionable that in these times sudden conversions and the flight of many eminent persons to the Continent were frequent. Certain it is also, that persons high in office were secret Romanists. In the curious manuscript memoir of the Capuchins who came over to Henrietta, I found an account of an interview between Charles the First and the Lord Treasurer Weston, who died Earl of Portland. In his last illness, having called for his priest, and embraced all the infallibility of the Roman Catholic Church, his lordship requested to see the King once more, to return into the royal hands his staff", as Lord High Treasurer. The following dialogue ensued : — " Sire, I replace, with respect and gratitude, this staff" into the hands of your Majesty, while I deeply regret that I have been less faithful to the service of God than to your Majesty's." "No, no!'' replied Charles: "this staff has been well placed in your hands, and there I c 2 20 POLEMICAL DIVINITY. will have it rercain." " Sire," once more replied the relapsed Lord Treasurer, " I am no longer capable of bearing it : first, because I can never recover from my present malady; and secondly, though it may seem odious, I should no longer con- ceal from your Majesty, that, by the grace of God, I am now a Catholic/' " Get but well,'' said the King, "and the Catholic religion need not hinder you to keep this staff as an able minister." This case of the Earl of Portland, at the head of the King's cabinet, affords a curious instance of the duties of office not unfaithfully performed by an Englishman, who at the same time anxiously concealed the real state of his conscience. Clarendon tells us, the Romanists only were those who did not believe this Earl to be a Catholic ; but the English only sus- pected his inclination to Papistry, or as the Capuchin writes the term, which he says is used by our nation, au Papism, from the tranquillity the Romanists under his administration were allowed to enjoy. Nothing in his open conduct or his language betrayed the concealed Catholic. It now appears, by this authentic manuscript, that the Earl held a private correspond- ence with the famous Pere Joseph of Paris, a Capuchin, who transacted all the secret affairs of Cardinal de Richelieu. It is evident also that some divinity students were lost in the mists of the artificial theology of Rome ; and the secret domina- tion of the missionary priests was so great as to excite the jealousy of the Papal agent, who has described in terms which a Protestant might repeat, that " the missionaries enjoy many conveniences in the houses of their patrons, and, being the directors of the masters and servants, and admitted to all the secrets of the mind, any one may judge what ascendancy they acquire." Such, then, was the state of the English Catholics at home ; and the sanctity of the domestic abode was frequently troubled by two rehgions abhorring each other, under the same paternal roof. The Romanists more particularly practised on the infirm sympathies of females : their nervous and seraphic temperament was more easily entranced by an imaginative religion, by the divinities they embraced, by the miracles which flashed before their eyes, by the gorgeous scene of the Roman ceremonial, the altar, the censer, and the chaunt. The illusion of the magical POLEMICAL DIVINITY. 21 service of tlie Catholic worship is acknowledged by Panzani. But the female, by her personal influence, was still more actively propagating the espoused doctrines. The Roman hierarchy has ever experienced the tenderness of the sex; among the first temporal dominions of the Popes appears the donation of a Countess, and one of the pontiffs obtained the sobriquet of Matronarum Auriscalpius, " the ear- picker of the ladies," from his adroitness in the art of wheedling. It is only by entering into the recesses of domestic life, that we can be enabled to form a clear notion of the extraordinary scenes which now occupied the passions of the people. We discover perpetual conferences in private, or, rather, severe wrestling matches between a Jesuit and a divine. Lord Mor- daunt and his lady invite the learned Usher to confer with a priest whom his lordship kept in his house, on the points in dispute between the two Churches. The conference was held several days, when Usher maintaining that the Church of England was no new religion, the lady, whose great fear had been its ambiguous novelty, was confirmed in her Protestantism, and the argument against its novelty proved so strikingly novel to his lordship, that he became a convert from Papistry. But Usher was not always at hand; his absence, and twenty- four hours to unravel his twisted logic, might have enabled the per- verting priest to produce a new point, and occasion a fresh lapse. Lady Falkland suddenly declared herself to be a Papist. All her friends, sensible of the disgrace, fly to her with an argu- ment, or a menace ; Mr. Montague would terrify her ladyship, that she, dying an English Papist, would die in a state of damnation ; — but this was only his assertion ! Cozens (after- wards the Bishop) told her that she had sinned damnably, in departing from that Church wherein she was baptized, before she had consulted with its heads ; however, he gave her ladyship a few notes, which she sent to her drunken Irish priest, for such he was, and who returned such silly answers, that Cozens would not reply. " If I turn again," said Lady Falkland, " I will turn Puritan, not moderate Protestant ; for moderate Protestants, such as Mr. Cozens, are farther from Catholics than Puritans." 22 POLEMICAL DIVINITY. But it was the Countess of Buckingham, the mother of the favourite, who fonned the highest hope of the Romanists. She had great power over her son. Gondomar, that exquisite wit, wrote to Spain, with an allusion to their own impious custom, " that now, indeed, they might have great hopes of the English reverting to Catholicism, because, like all good Catholics, more intercession was made to the Mother than to the Son !" When this old lady was passing away to the Church of Rome, James the First, in his zeal, insisted on a conference between the Dean of Carlisle and Fisher the Jesuit. It was at first imagined that the Dean had given the Jesuit "foil after foil;" but the feminine weakness of the old Countess wavered, and a second conference was required. James then himself would be the arbitrator; and observing that the cunning Jesuit all along had eluded the arguments brought against him, while, in the confirmation of his own tenets, he was extremely weak, his Majesty insisted on setting down in writing the nine points, or questions. To these the Jesuit duly returned " a close and well- wrought answer." A third conference therefore became necessary. The chief point at which the aged Dowager stuck was, what the Jesuit had urged about "an infallible visible Church." Bishop Williams, to cut the matter short, — in giving but not in conceding some points to the Jesuit, yielding in appear- ance that he might carry his point the more directly, retreating only to advance, seemed, to use the jockey metaphor of the Bishop of Coventry and Lichfield, — " to have put the Jesuit out of his ordinary trot ; yet he fell into a shuffling pace, and carried the lady behind him." But in these religious conferences, the women were not the sole actresses. The times were "pendulous," says Heylin. Amidst these fluctuations of faith, the disturbed mind found no resting-place, while it seemed only to weary itself by its inces- sant activity. It was a world of waters, where the perishing dove could only live on its wing. It is a curious fact, that Archbishop Laud, on his trial, in order to convince his judges of his faithful attachment to the Established Church, read a list of persons whom he had recovered from their lapses into Papis- try; and among them is the Lord Duke of Buckingham, who, he adds, " was almost quite gone between the lady, his mother, POLEMICAL DIVINITY. 23 and his sister/* Indeed the Protestantism of the royal favourite must have been in a very ticklish state, for, on his departure to Spain, James told the chaplains, "that he had trained up George so far as to hold the conclusion, though he had not yet made him able to prove the premises/* Laud congratulates himself, that of the number he had recovered, only two had relapsed — the Countess of Buckingham and Sir William Spencer ; " it being only in God's power,** he observed, " not mine, to preserve them from relapse.** But the member of the Church of England was not only assailed by the English Papists ; the peace of the country was equally violated by the English Puritan. In the manuscript diary of Sir Symond D'Ewes a puritanic scene opens to us. His father and himself and a clergyman held a " passionate dispute ** about the " assurances ** of salvation. The clergyman maintained that there could be no real assur- ance in this world ; for men, subject to many sins, were apt to deceive themselves. D*Ewes affirmed, that this was the tenet of the Romanists ; but that the Church of England held that God*s children, or " the elect,** in this life might attain to a certain knowledge of their own future salvation by faith. His father sided with the clergyman — ^'a man,** adds D'Ewes, " who, holding two livings in two several shires, did not much trouble himself in making sure his inheritance in a better world.** Some time after, this clergyman, having conned over a certain book by one Perkins, it overset his whole system, and drew an acknowledgment from him to the father, of the sound- ness of his son*s principles. This appears to have been an unexpected triumph for young D*Ewes. He now felt uneasy, having converted a clergyman, lest his arguments could possibly admit of any refutation. He set down more earnestly to watch his syllogisms, and to see there was no leak between his pre- mises and his corollaries ; ringing them at all corners to try their soundness. Having got his servant to transcribe them fairly, his father read and approved. This family document of faith is perhaps still coffered among the antiquities of our antiquaries* collections. Such incidents were daily occurring in families, without always terminating so peaceably. At this day, what should we think of the Premier and the 24 POLEMICAL DIVINITY. highest oflBcers of Government summoning a cabinet council to meet at York House, where Buckingham presided, to attend a conference between four divines on metaphysical points of religious doctrines — on predestination, grace, and free-will? — Or the House of Commons debating on the heresy of Dr. Richard Montague ; on which occasion, Pym delivered a report which electrified the House, who, no longer conceiving that only divines were capable to decide on divinity, decreed that the Doctor^s doctrines were Pelagian and Arminian, tending to the disturbance of Church and State. The Arminian doctrine, which the Synod of Dort condemned, and of which we hear so much during this period of our history, has been reduced to five articles, against predestination, in favour of free-will, of the nature of grace, and on similar points. It would be very dif- ficult for the reader unacquainted with these subjects, to asso- ciate 9iny political principles of Popery, or arbitrary power, with such mystical notions. Yet Rapin, a French Protestant, and all the writers of the Puritanic party, attached this odium to them ; and because some of the early patrons of Arminius (such as Laud) advocated arbitrary government, Arminianism became the sin of the Court. Was not Arminianism a palliative for the terrible Calvinism of the Articles and Homilies ? These five Arminian articles were so far from being connected with Popery and arbitrary power, that Tindal observes that they are generally received by the Church of England, and are the creed of thou- sands. John Wesley founded his system of faith on Arminian principles. A reader of our popular histories has possibly entertained no notion of the state of afl^airs which we have described, yet effects will always be imperfectly comprehended without a knowledge of their causes. We are apt to consider the reigns of James and Charles only as the epoch of the struggle of popular freedom; but that glorious struggle was deeply obscured by exertions not less energetic, though less pure, less patriotic, less ennobling, by the mean designs of contracted minds, and by the intrigues of rival factions, who alike condemned the sovereign, who would yield to neither, and sank beneath both. If James and Charles, then, were versed in the disputations of the Romanists and the Puritans, it was not only the feelings POLEMICAL DIVINITY. 25 of the age which might have occasioned such scholastic skill, but the interests of their Crown, since in these disputations they were defending the principles of their government in Church and State. In England, the Romanists were a faction sup- pressed, but not extinguished ; and a suppressed faction, though it run into all corners to hide itself, yet loses nothing of its dangerous activity. In fact, the subtle Papists were now play- ing fast and loose : while their priests were masking themselves under fictitious names, and dressing themselves in lay charac- ters. At this day we may smile at James the First in his retirement, having at his leisure hours the Bishop of Winches- ter to read over to him the four tomes of Cardinal Bellarmine's Controversies, and dispatching a special messenger to the libra- ries at Cambridge for volumes to collate the quotations, and to refute the arguments. We may smile, too, at his lively conference at Hampton Court j but he knew well the " men of parity," who were for modelling the Government, each man according to his particular notion ; the rabid Presbyters, who, howling at the surplice as " a rag of prelacy," and dashing into pieces the idolatry of painted glass, aimed at nothing short of abolishing the sovereignty and the hierarchy together. Thus these polemi- cal studies were, in fact, political ones. The Reformation had made the study of Polemical Divinity in England a general pursuit — a study for which, it may be said, mankind have a natural disposition. Doubtless there were some disputants who, gifted with a more enlarged comprehension, felt that in these controversies were implicated other interests than those of the soul, and other attributes than those of Omnipotence. Doubt- less, in combating the infallibility of the Pope, the illustrious -Falkland felt that he was vindicating the political independence of his country ; and are we to believe that, in supporting that infallibility, the Jesuit White was unmindful of the lustre which, from the success of his syllogism, must necessarily be reflected on his order ? But the motives of the great mass of the nation were more spiritual and less enlightened. The study, however, was universal, and its effects consequently not less general. Doubt and dogmatism pervaded all ranks, and, as usually happens where new systems are broached, and ancient ones canvassed, in most cases the scepticism was as to the 26 SECRET HISTORY OF propriety of the existing order, and the certainty as to the fitness of the theoretical. Was the monarch then, of all men, alone to be ignorant, uninterested, and inactive, when he surely, of all men, was most interested in the result ? which, to say the least, was a decision whether he and his people should bend to the foreign despotism of the Romish tiara, or degenerate into the mongrel rabble of the Presbytery of Geneva ! CHAPTER IV. SECRET HISTORY OF THE SPANISH MATCH. Modern history affords no parallel to the narrative of the projected, proflPered, accepted, and at length broken-off match of Prince Charles of England with the Infanta of Spain. In the suspended march of that mysterious story, the thread, so finely spun and so often dropped, is still taken up with " the eagerness and trembling of the fancy." We have to trace the open shows of things, and their under-workings — the contrasted characters of the illustrious actors in the combination of uncom- mon incidents — the chivalry of the English Prince embraced by Castilian magnanimity — the honour of two great nations await- ing the issue of a love-story, and the winding up of its action in the grand unexpected catastrophe of a naval war. Tilts and tournaments had become obsolete ; and no single knight-errant was suspected to be abroad on a pilgrimage of love, when Charles, by one audacious flight, startled the slumbering genius of the folio romance. The gallantry of Charles was, like the other parts of his cha- racter, somewhat serious and intense. The state of the youth- ful Prince at this moment is ingeniously described in a letter ab IgnotOy probably the suggestion of Buckingham, to the Conde de Gondomar, in which the writer points at the danger of a cold delay with a spirit so youthfully eager, and so fanciful I " The Prince is extremely sharp set upon this match ; and you know that a hawk, when she is first dressed and made ready to fly, having a great will upon her, if the falconer do not follow THE SPANISH MATCH. 27 it at the time, she is in danger to be dulled for ever after. The Prince/you know, was thought slow enough to begin to be eager after the feminine prey ; take heed, therefore, lest in the fault of your delays, he grows dull, and in short time he will not stoop to the lure, though it were thrown out to him." The Spanish Match is one of those passages in our history, which, inexplicable to its contemporaries, has been found equally perplexing to our latest historical inquirers. Hume has remarked *^ that James having, by means inexplicable from all rules of politics, conducted so near an honourable end the marriage of his son, and the restoration of his son-in-law, failed at last of his purpose by means equally unaccountable." Of the parties concerned, who were the deceivers, and who the deceived ? Or, if there were any sincerity in the treaty, what causes broke off the projected alliance ? Sir David Dalrymple observed, " how imperfect all the printed accounts were of the Spanish match ; yet the learned in British history," said he, " well know that these secret and interesting transactions may be explained from papers hitherto unpublished." Dalrymple must have alluded to that ample correspondence which, twelve years after this announcement, Lord Hardwicke drew from the Harleian Col- lection, for his " Miscellaneous State Papers." Since then, I have discovered a memoir of Sir Balthazar Gerbier,* the secret agent of James and Charles, which has thrown a clearer light on this involved piece of secret history, and with the aid of some fresh materials, holding this " goodly clue " of many threads in our hand, we shall perhaps now feel our way through the labyrinth. James endured the reproaches of his own day, and his cha- racter must still bear the traditional obloquy, for not precipi- tating a Continental war, to maintain the weak Palsgrave in the ambitious career by which he lost his patrimony, when that prince assumed a crown which he could not hold. To the English nation, the vital interests of the reformed religion seemed in peril. James was censured for indifference to the Protestant cause, an inclination to Popery, and deficient zeal as to the condition of his rash son-in-law. Yet, though James, from his notions, could never sanction the Palsgrave's assump- ♦ Sloane MSS. 4181. 28 SECRET HISTORY OF tion of the Bohemian crown, he seems nevertheless to have been unjustly blamed, for the restitution of the Palatinate was the unceasing object of his thoughts, as a father and a sovereign; or, as Lord Bristol elegantly expressed it, "in nature and honour." The restoration of the Palatinate had been attempted in all the multiform shapes, and through all the open and indirect roads of patient and delusive negotiations. James the First had dispatched Gerbier to sound the German princes. This secret agent discovered that "the union," or Protestant League, as " unions " in politics are often found to be, was widely disunited; and the Calvinist and the Lutheran were hateful rivals. Neither the French nor the Hollanders, nor even Sweden and Denmark, would stir for the Palatinate. A few poor German princes were not unwilling to be subsidised monthly; but James had no periodical bullion casks to keep up their parade days. The little Protestant princes were either averse to risk their own equivocal condition, or were divided by opposite interests, while many of these very Protestant princes were actually the allies of the Romish Emperor. The English agent, Gerbier, was treated so coolly on this occasion, that the Prince Elector of Treves and another prince, hinted at " such public incendiaries who would engage princes in unnecessary wars with their neighbours ; besides," they added, " in these days, God did not send prophets more to the Protestants than to others." And yet the clamour for war continued, year after year, in our country. It may be sometimes a question, whether a war, originating in the passions of the English people, or even tending to their beneficial interest, is necessarily to be adopted by the British Cabinet. Even in the general cause of freedom, we are too apt to imagine the sympathies of foreigners ; we forget that they have their own national prejudices, their ancient customs, and the rooted interests of predominant parties, — affections stronger than even the love of freedom ! The pacific King certainly long hesitated, as he himsell expresses it, " to undertake a public war of religion through all the world at once ; " while our popular writers of history are still echoing the politics of the wise " walkers in Paul's," who were for levying armies without raising subsidies. The negotiations for the Palatinate were grafted on those for THE SPANISH MATCH. 29 a family alKance with Spain. James the First had often regretted that the dignity of an English monarch was impaired by his religion, for none of the great continental sovereigns being Protestants, the Prince of Wales could not be matched in his own rank. The project of a Spanish alliance had in it all the magnificence he desired ; but both the negotiations languished through all the tediousness of diplomacy. It is known how that delightful hterary ambassador, Gondomar, kept James in play some seven years, with merry tales and quaint quips, and most compliant promises, which it was the business of Olivarez to mystify by the return of the courier. A grand coup-d'etat was projected at once to strike at the secret, whether the Court of Madrid were in earnest, and could be induced to terminate both these important discussions, by accepting the proffered alliance with the family of Stuart, breathed from the lips of the princely Celadon himself to the fair Infanta. With whom this eccentric project originated, has been often and vainly asked. Was it a flower of the Spanish fancy of Gondomar ? The Earl of Bristol charges Buckingham with having concerted measures with the Spaniard, to carry away the Prince to Madrid. Charles, indeed, declared in Parliament, as Bishop Hacket expresses it, that " the heroic thought started out of his own brain to visit the Court of Madrid;^' but that declaration might have been designed to screen Buckingham from Parliamentary responsi- bility ; or the Prince, yet green in manhood, might have mis- taken the whispered suggestion for his own pre-conceived design. The Duke confidentially imparted to Gerbier, that it was himself who struck out this bold invention. Clarendon has recorded of the high-spirited Charles, that "the Prince loved adventures." One of unexampled splendour was now open to him ! The universal fears of the nation for the personal safety of the Prince in the hands of Spain, Buckingham told Gerbier, he considered as groundless ; Spain could acquire nothing even by the loss of the Prince of Wales ; for the Protestant succession was secured in the progeny of Elizabeth of Bohemia^ and the honour of Spain was immaculate. We are told in the declaration to Parliament, in the account given of the motives of this extraordinary journey, that James the First had commanded the Duke to accompany the Prince ; 30 SECRET HISTORY OP but the truth is, that when this knight-errantry was discussed, James, as usual, wisely remonstrated. Charles, like a young Prince, only shed tears in silence, but Buckingham's violence to extort his consent threw the aged and infirm monarch into an agony ; for, on this secret journey, no council was to be held, the pilgrims were to wander in secrecy and silence. James was reminded that he had himself set the gallant example ; for when the Scottish fleet had caught the first fresh breezes, to waft over Anne of Denmark, the monarch, unobserved of any, conveyed himself on board : " a resolution," the Scottish monarch nobly said, " which he would not confide to any of his council, that no one might incur responsibility for having consented to the absence of the Sovereign." The Prince and the minister journeyed together incog., accom- panied only by Sir Richard Graham, a creature of the Marquis ; unpractised travellers ! they strangely blundered, or found their faces too eminent to be hidden. Though their persons were disguised by long beards, and Tom and Jack Smith familiarised their names, they were often at a fault. They flung a piece of gold to a ferryman at Gravesend, which cast the fellow into such a melting tenderness, that, to prevent the deadly quarrel he imagined these unhappy but liberal gentlemen were hastening beyond sea to terminate, he raised a hue and cry, which, as they journeyed on sorry hacks, arrested them at Canterbury. The heir apparent, and the Lord Admiral, stood before the Mayor, when Buckingham, taking his worship aside, was compelled to unheard, and assure him that they were going secretly to inspect the fleet. The trembling magistrate was let into a state secret I At Dover, Sir Francis Cottington and Endymion Porter had a vessel ready, which landed them at Boulogne. They had left their beards on the shores of Britain, and on the road to Paris chanced to fall into company with two German gentlemen returning from England, perfectly acquainted with Steenie's fair countenance, and with the stately personage of his prince, both of whom they had not long ago seen at Newmarket. The Germans expressed their opinion ; but Dick Graham had the ingenuity to unpersuade them ; though they could not avoid hinting that " the hardest thing in the world is to unbelieve our senses." At Paris, having bought periwigs, " to over- THE SPANISH MATCH. 31 shadow their foreheads," they were admitted among the crowd at the French Court, where Charles, for the first time, saw the Princess Henrietta, rehearsing a masquing dance. There is no algebra to discover the unknown qualities of moral probabi- lities : what vaticinator would have ventured to predict, — least of all men would Charles himself have believed — that his Queen was then before him? The Count de Brienne, in his con- temporary memoirs, relates that the Prince and the Duke were " surprised by the beauty of the ladies at Court ; but that no one struck the Prince more than Madame Henriette." I give this as an instance of those self-suggestions which a writer of memoirs is apt to indulge, by connecting in his mind preceding with subsequent events. By an autograph letter I have seen of the Prince, to his father, among the royal letters in the British Museum, he appears not to have been struck by any mysterious sympathies ; his letter shows, that he was most moved by the beauty of the more important personage, at that moment, the Queen of France, the radiant whiteness of whose complexion, and whose arts of coquetry, afterwards produced such a madness in Buckingham. When the Earl of Holland was afterwards at Paris to negotiate the French match, the Queen of Louis XIII. regretted that when Prince Charles saw them practise their masques, Madame, her sister, (Henriette,) '^was seen at so much disadvantage by him, afar off, and in a dark room, whose person and face has most loveliness when considered nearly." The companions escaped through France, not without peril. Floating rumours preceded, and couriers were behind them. The Government had already some intimation of the two extraordinary travellers. At Bordeaux, the Duke d^Epernon balanced in his mind, whether he should allow them to proceed; and at Bayonne, where they wore " five riding coats, all of one colour and fashion, in a kind of noble simplicity," the governor considered them as five ambiguous personages. A slight occurrence might have brought some trouble. It was Lent- time, and no meat was procurable at the inns. Near Bayonne they met a herd of goats, on which Dick Graham, now master of the horse to the Marquis, but erst, " an underling of low degree in his stable," and moreover a Scotchman, told the Marquis that " he could snap up one of those kids, and make 32 SECRET HISTORY OF a shift to carry it to their lodgings." The Prince, overhearing the proposal, cried out, " Richard, do you think that you may practise here your old border tricks ? " After having ordered the goatherd to be paid for his kid, the Prince himself rode after the animal, and shot the prey in the head. Alone and disguised at night, on the 7th of March, the Marquis and the Prince alighted at the house of Lord Bristol, at Madrid, ''never merrier in their lives." Tom Smith (the Marquis) entered with his portmanteau under his arm, but Jack kept in the dark on the opposite side of the street, with the postilion. Tom opened with a story about some messenger of the EarPs, who, he said, had been robbed. While he was speaking, Buckingham was recognised j and they flew to con- duct the Prince to his chamber. On this occasion we have a letter from Lord Bristol, which he calls " a distracted dispatch," so full " of admiration, of joy," and had he written his thoughts, he might have added, " of despair." This secret journey was a thunderstroke. It reversed the whole system of politics : a treaty which had been maturing for years, and which, as it appeared to Bristol, was on the very point of conclusion, was now to be thrown into the hands of his ungovernable rival, amidst all the inconveniences which his political brain could conjure up. Bristol now dreaded " those accidents which ordinarily fall out at the interview of princes, wherein difference of custom or religion may raise disasters, and the emulation which groweth between their chief servants and ministers, whereby often the affairs of their masters are disordered and hazarded, so that friendship and amity is seldom bettered or increased." On Saturday morning, after Secretary Cottington and Endy- mion Porter had come, a message was sent to Gondomar, who, learning Buckingham's arrival, apprehended that the Prince was not far off. An interview of Buckingham with Olivarez followed. The Lord Admiral was introduced by a secret pas- sage to the King's private room, and in this audience the feelings of the youthful monarch of Spain are described by Bristol : — " I never saw the Spanish gravity laid aside before, nor any man more overtaken with joy than the King was, for he secretly understood of the Prince's being here." The Conde THE SPANISH MATCH. 83 Olivarez hastens to cast himself on his knees. In his rapture he exclaims, that " the Infanta ought to be thrown into his arms; she should be his mistress, if she could not be his wife !" and turning to Buckingham, he said, " Now our masters may divide the world ! " The Prince intimating his desire to see the Infanta, a royal party was made to meet in their coaches in the Prado. Thrice they passed ; the Infanta wore a blue ribbon about her arm to distinguish her ; and all the world witnessed, if we may trust Howel, the deep blush mantling her face as Charles gazed on her. The young Spanish monarch, impatient to embrace his chivalric guest, offered to wait on the Prince, who, in return, proposed going to the palace ; but in the struggle of courtesy, it was fixed that they should meet at night on the Prado. Charles found the King waiting, with his cloak muffling his face. He hastened to the Prince, who met him half- way, and embracing, the Spanish Monarch and the English Prince entered the royal coach together, with Bristol for their interpreter. The pleasant, subtile Gondomar, having on the following day been sworn into the council of state, told the Prince, with his accustomed political mystification, that he had strange news to communicate, which was that an Englishman had been sworn in as a privy counsellor of Spain. Gondomar was perpetually declaring that he was an Englishman in his heart, notwith- standing the affronts he had so often received from the English mob, or apprentices, of whom the mob then chiefly consisted, and whom he called " the London boys." All honours were decreed, all rejoicings were commanded. It was ordered in council that Prince Charles should enter the palace accompanied by those ceremonials of state which were observed at the coronation of the Spanish monarchs ; and that the Prince should take precedence of the King, attended by a numerous guard of honour. The King sent the Prince a golden key, which opened the royal privy apartments ; that he might have free access at all hours ; and the Queen sent her presents to the English Prince, with feminine taste, elegant as well as rich. They consisted of a great basin of massy gold, which was borne by two men ; a curiously embroidered night-gown was folded in it. Two trunks bound with bands of pure goldj VOL. I. D 84 SECRET HISTORY OF and studded with nails of gold, with locks and keys of gold ; the coverings and linings of amber leather, and filled with fine linen and perfumes. These were accompanied by a rich writing-desk, every drawer of which was full of rarities and curiosities. And that every public appearance might respond to the joyous occa- sion, the sumptuary laws against excess in apparel were sus- pended, and the people were invited to ruin their famiUes in emulative costliness. The rapture was universal. At Charles's public entrance into Madrid, hangings of arras, and pictures, adorned the houses ; scaffolds were raised in the streets ; knots of people were all day shouting ; orations and poems were recited in every corner — processions were passing — trains of magnificent equipages were moving, and gorgeous liveries flamed in the sun. The royalty of Spain was abroad, and the glory of the Court and kingdom adorned a day, such as Madrid had never seen. The public voice had already married the Infanta ; and the burthen of a song, by Lope de Vega, was echoed by the populace : — " Carlos Estuardo soy. Que, siendo amor mi guia, Al cielo d'Espana voy Per ver mi estrella Maria.** « Charles Stuart I am, Whom Love has guided afar ; To the heaven of Spain I came. To see Maria my star." But what was the rumour ? What were the politics of the people ? " The Prince of England had come for a wife, and to be a Christian?" The purport of this extraordinary visit was imagined to be Charles's determination to make his conversion secretly or openly, and this appears at first to have been the notion even of Olivarez. Indeed it was difficult for a Spaniard to conceive any other. Among a superstitious people, whatever they desire must be sanctioned by augury or omen, and whenever a great public event happens, they require nothing less than the attestation of a particular interposition of Providence. Heaven and nature must move to consecrate their temporary passions. This irrational THE SPANISH MATCH. 85 devotion regulates the feelings of a papistical people, and accord- ing to the inclinations of the governors, blind ignorance is supplied with favourable or unfavourable demonstrations. In the rapture with which Charles was received by the Spanish nation, and perhaps with some vague prepossession of his con- version to Papistry, these were not wanting, and the priest had prepared the miracle ! Seven months previous to the arrival of Charles, the country had suffered greatly from drought. On the Prince's arrival, the weather changed ; genial showers fell, and abundant harvests succeeded the dread of famine. The most fruitful season known in the memory of man was, they said, brought by the English Prince. This was a great and particular Providence for all Spain; but it was necessary to have a minor omen for Madrid; something which the Court and the mob might witness with their own eyes ; and behold ! since Charles had lodged in the palace, a single pigeon — a pigeon, where pigeon had never been seen before — roosted continually above the window of his apartment, fed by no human hand, yet never quitting its chosen seat to travel for food. "These little trifles, among those superstitious people, are very much observed," says one of Charles's suite. All now was the holiday of life, and the romance of the princely lover was at length opened. He ran at the ring, in presence of his mistress, and had the good fortune to carry it at the first course ; and this chivalric achievement was one more auspicious omen. Although Castilian etiquette did not allow the Prince to be in private with the Infanta, this circumstance only the more inflamed his ideal passion. At the court theatre the Prince stood with his eyes immovably fixed upon the Infanta for half an hour together, and as Howel expresses the enamour- ing reverie, " in a thoughtful speculative posture." Charles watched her progress from church to church, and tracked her carriage through the streets. The Infanta having gone one morning to the Casa di Campo, to gather maydew, the Prince rose with the sun, and, accompanied by Endymion Porter, explored the house and garden. Not finding La Dame de ses pensees, the rover pursued his way into the orchard, where a wall and a double-bolted door opposed his passage. Love hath wings ; the Prince scaled the wall^ and resolutely leaping down from d2 36 SECRET HISTORY OF the height, hastened towards her: the Infanta shrieked and fled ! The old Marquis, her guardian, falling on his knees, implored the Prince to consider for a moment that the hoary head of his suppliant was at stake. A sedate majesty in Prince Charles, a manly beauty, tempe- rate habits, and a thoughtful mind, were congenial with this grave people. The romantic visit by which the Prince had thrown himself into their arms had electrified the nation, and drawn all Spanish hearts towards the hope of England. The Prince of Wales was covered with the prodigal honours of the Court of Madrid ; the name of Carlos Estuardo moved on the lips of the people. But Charles stood alone among his countrymen; and above all, Buckingham offered a provoking contrast to his master. The airy freedom of his manners, often degenerating into the grossest licentiousness of conduct, was never to be forgiven by the offended Majesty of Philip, and the contemptuous pride of Olivarez. Buckingham's indecorous habits, like all his actions, lie open to the world; and his inconsiderate familiarity had often provoked many serious altercations with the Prince during their residence at Madrid.* But there was a charm in the frank- ness of his nature, a joyousness in his temper, which partly redeemed the follies of the hour, though these left a wound which could never be healed in the moral gravity and the state- liness of the Spaniard. The English in the suite of Charles acted as freely as they talked : they were mostly ill-chosen. Some of them were the hare-brained parvenus of Buckingham. A groom had been promoted to be the Duke's " Master of the Horse ;" another • We possess a voluminous catalogue of his minutest improprieties, and his TDoro flagrant outrages, printed in " The Cabala," by James Wadsworth, the author of the English Spanish Pilgrim, whose father taught the English language to the Infanta. This man, an English Jesuit, on his return liome renounced his Catholicism, dubbing himself Captain, and by Laud's history, 394, was one of ** the common messengers, whose business was to take up Popish priests." This renegado appears to have been a loose liver in every respect. The charges were doubtless exaggerated, for the minutest is not lost in the enumeration. Buckingham called the Prince ridiculous names, in mere playfulness, and admitted the lowest women into the King's palace. He fell ill at Madrid, from political vexation, or gome other cause, and the Court of Spain declared that " they would rather put the Infanta into a well than into his hands." THE SPANISH MATCH. 37 menial attendant was now " Gentleman of the Bed-chamber/' The national antipathies in religion and in manners were perpetually clashing. The superstitions of this " kingdom of priests " were more particularly brought under the English eye : when the Irish priests would tamper with the English, the sturdy Protestant often closed a tough point of theology on the broken head of the weaker Papist ; and all this in a land where the haughtiest Don trembled to touch irreverently the meanest friar. The interposition of Gondomar, or the policy of the Government at that moment, saved more than one Briton from the remorseless tribunal of the priesthood. A rumour, that the heretics had no religious service (prayers being only read in Charles's apartment), occasioned the printing of our Liturgy in Spanish, which was dispatched from England to repel the aspersion, and must now be among the rarest books in Spain. The ridiculous contrast, as it seemed to the London ** gallant," of Spanish pride and Spanish poverty, the sombre Madrid, and the ceremonious Hidalgo, wearied those who had ever on their tongues "Sweet England!" — "Most of our company," says one of them, "did nothing else but play at cards; for to say truth, there was nothing to be done else." The only precious commodity they wished to take from Spain, when they had travelled through its sterile land, was " their good air to join our earth, that England might be the happiest spot on earth." From this close intercourse among the persons of such dif- ferent customs, and such opposite nations, our sagacious ambas- sador had foreseen, from the moment of the Prince's arrival, the consequence of all those incidents which were now following fast one on the other. Buckingham's political conduct was not less offensive than his moral. His native rashness was urged on by a double spur ; he was receiving accounts from England of formidable intrigues against him ; even Bishop Williams, the Lord Keeper, was confidentially warning his patron of some " un- grateful devils j " a corps diplomatique y by the way, of which he himself was the great demon, for he was the double of himself, the Fouche of the day. Buckingham would have broken by violence the dilatoriness, from time immemorial, of the Spanish Cabinet ; he kicked at the tortoise to quicken its motion, but. 88 SECRET HISTORY OF secure in its sacred shell, he only rendered it motionless. The King refused any longer to treat with him ; and Olivarez having insinuated that the Duke had given some hope of the Prince's conversion, — to his diplomatic consternation, received the lie ! The Prince had already lost his wager of " a horse of forty pieces '' with Sir Richard Wynne, that he would land in Eng- land in June, — it was now September. England with one voice was calling for her Charles; the father was in tears for his son. In Madrid, the sight of the Prince of England had become cheap and common. At an earlier period, on a report of the rout of Tilly's army, the great minister, in consternation and haste, had knelt to Charles, and talked of offering a blank for him to fill up with his own conditions, for the restitution of the Palatinate: but now, when the authentic news arrived that Brunswick was utterly defeated, Olivarez became silent, and his visits rare ; his palabras de complimiento, as he sometimes called all his fine promises, condescended to become very coarse and famihar. He said now, that ''the Prince was watching the Infanta like a cat does a mouse ; " and when pressed to hasten the departure of the English, Charles himself has given the ambiguous kindness of his answer ; that " he would throw us all out of Spain as soon as he could I " The same old difficul- ties were ever and anon starting up. The Conde would patch this " mingled yarn," and audaciously propose, that the son of the Palatine should marry the Emperor's daughter, and be brought up in the Court of Vienna, which implied a conversion. And when Charles demanded whether, in case the Emperor proved refractory, the King of Spain would assist with arms to bring him to reasonable terms, the Conde replied, that it was a state maxim, that the King of Spain must not employ his army against the House of Austria. On this, Charles protested to Olivarez. " Look to it. Sir ! for if you hold yourself to that, there is an end of all ! for without this, you may not rely upon either marriage or friendship ! " I have read in a letter of the times, that when the English minister pressed Olivarez to oblige his master in the affair of the Palatinate, which would preserve for Spain a friend for life, that profound statesman observed, *' Ah, Sir ! Kings have no gratitude ! " Olivarez, however, sometimes indulged in a vein of good THE SPANISH MATCH. 39 Spanish humour. When they seemed to be waiting only for the ratification by the new Pope, the Conde told the Duke, " Now certainly it must be a match, and the devil could not break it ! " The Duke thought so, and added, " The match had need be very firm and strong, for it had been seven years in soldering ! " The Conde, as a mark of his unreserved confi- dence, then showed the Duke a letter from the King with his answer. This was designed as a proof that the match had not been really intended seven months ! a State secret which mysti- fied the whole business; — they were now walking in a mist. This royal letter has come down to us, merely from the recoU lections of Sir Walter Aston, who, though allowed to translate it before the Prince, was not suffered to take a copy. We may suspect it to have been a political ruse of the subtle Spaniard. Of their sincerity, however, at this time, I have discovered an irrefragable evidence in a very extraordinary incident. The confessor to the Infanta gave out his opinions unreservedly in opposition to the marriage — he was checked for these opinions, and solemnly warned of their consequences, but the friar per- sisted at the risk of martyrdom. The Infanta became exces- sively melancholy, she was observed to avoid her suitor, and to retire into privacy. The friar was seldom absent from her presence; in the secrecy of the confessional he alarmed her delicacy, and worked on her mind by religious horrors. ^^ Do you know,'' said he, " what evil and what curse you are incur- ring ? — you will have to sleep every night by the side of a naked man, and that man condemned to hell fires." The health of the Princess declined; the friar might have bafiled all the intrigues of both Cabinets, but they presented him one morn- ing with a fatal cup of chocolate.* Sometimes the Conde pro- posed that the marriage treaty should conclude without the difficult appendix of the restitution of the Palatinate, "for then,'' said the Cervantic Olivarez, " it could not fail ; for the Infanta might beg it on her knees ! " That zealous explosion * I read this circumstance in a secret letter from Lord Bristol to James I., in the Conway Papers, those valuable documents to which Horace Walpole alludes, now descended to the possession of the Marquis of Hertford. Long a prey of damp and neglect, the fragments, now carefully arranged, lamentably show that we have lost one of the most interesting collections of secret history. 40 SECRET HISTORY OP of feeling which flung the lie into the face of the grave diplo- matist, to beat back the treasonable insinuation of the Prince's conversion, concluded the interviews of these ministers. This discourtesy had become absolutely necessary ; even the Earl of Bristol had been alarmed by the Madrid reports, and Olivarez had unquestionably forfeited his pledge, that he would never touch on the Prince's religion. The proud minister told Charles, that, if he would profess himself a son of the Romish Church, Spain would yield all his desires, and it lay with him- self to be the wealthiest and the most powerful monarch in Europe. The reply of the young Prince has come down to us — " My Lord, you have broken your word with me ; but I will not break my faith with God ! ** There was an idle report that Prince Charles designed to decamp secretly from Spain, as if he had considered himself in personal danger; a suspicion in which Castilian honour was involved. It was nobly answered on Charles's side, that "if love had brought him there, it was not fear that should drive him away." While the ministers were thus playing at cross-purposes, the chief personages themselves were more tenderly intimate. The King urged the Prince to delay his return till spring, that he might accompany the Infanta home. She, not tearless, com- plained with all a woman's feelings, that " if the Prince loved her he would stay for her:" — and when Charles assured her^ that'" his heart would never be out of anxiety till her feet had pressed on British land," she answered with a modest blush, so accurate is the record of love ! " that should she be in danger on the ocean, or indisposed by the rolling waves, she would be cheered by remembering all the way to whom she was going." These formal speeches seem to have been taken out of "the Academy of CompUments;" and Charles, who had flown to Madrid a romantic lover, was now, we may suspect, leaving it more warmed by politics than passion. Buckingham set off" alone to the ships, without taking a cere- monious leave at Court. He was now utterly anti- Spanish, and sullenly brooding over a French alliance. The Spanish monarch himself, with all the magnificence of his Court, would accompany Prince Charles. On their way to the sea-side, a THE SPANISH MATCH. 41 festival awaited them at the Escurial, that Spanish eighth wonder of the world ! On leaving this palace and its enchant- ing gardens, a stag lodged in their way — the horn was blown and the chase was roused. The stag, which was breathed well, dropped beside a wood, where, the ceremonies of the death per- formed, the hunters were reminded of their exercise by their keen appetite. Turning into the wood, a scene, as if prepared by magic, opened ; a magnificent repast was spread before them, on a table canopied with green boughs. Cool shades and exquisite viands in a moment dissipated heat and hunger. After this refection, Philip once more repeated, that the con- fidence of the Prince in having entrusted his royal person to his care had for ever endeared him in his brotherly aff'ection: Charles again reiterated his vows for Philip^s fair sister. A marble column had already been erected as a monument of alliance and amity. These royal personages, laying their hands on the pillar, in a mutual embrace ratified the marriage-treaty that was on the point of rupture, and the grand alliance which was about to terminate in a war. Politics is an art, admitting neither love nor friendship. Prom the moment of Prince Charles's landing at Portsmouth, the whole nation was struck with that popular madness which has often seized on us. All eyes sought the idol of their hearts, the aged blessed the day they had lived to witness, public societies and private families were offering up their rehgious thanks. On his entrance into London, the universal joy made an universal festival : tables were spread in the streets, the wine and sack were flowing from the conduits. London, and far beyond its environs, appeared day after day in a conflagration of bonfires, and the bells pealing through the night proclaimed the return of the solitary hope of the nation.* Charles more than once received the same ardent testimonies from the ♦ The most preposterous terrors were formed by the people of the effects of the Spanish match. In the MS. Journal of Sir Symonds D'Ewes, it appears that some dreaded an intention of the Jesuits to get rid of the King and Prince, by poison or other means, whenever " the Spanish Lady," who would then survive them, could train up her children in the Romish religion, and re-establish popery in England ! The same national terror was by no means dissipated afterwards by the French match. 42 SECRET HISTORY OF populace. Is it strange that a Prince, once so loved, should afterwards have been at a loss to account for the estrangement of the aflfections of " the headstrong multitude ? " They who are the victims of such passions can rarely discover the causes of what Sir Henry Wotton so happily describes as "the lubricity of popular favour." The memory of early gratitude or early flattery is scarcely to be effaced even by injuries ; and he, who in his perplexity is forced to sit in judgment upon himself, will appeal to the people against the people. The Prince and Buckingham hastened to Royston. The King met them on the stairs, and the Prince and the Duke kneeling, the old King fell on their necks, and wept. Then shutting all out, they held a conference for four hours, late in the night. The secrets of palaces are hard to get at, but the news-letter writers have speculated on this conference. The eaves-droppers, on these critical interviews, are not without authority for us minute chroniclers ! The attendants at the door sometimes heard a still voice, and then a loud one ; some- times it was laughter, and sometimes chafing; but such was the variety of tones, that they could not conjecture the tendency or the close of this conference. In a word, these very reports present the true and fantastic image of this whole history. The grand secret was supposed to have broken out at supper, when James openly expressed his content, that, since the restitu- tion of the Palatinate was no farther advanced by the Spaniards^ matter's should rest as they were. The old King, with that pointed sententiousness he frequently used, said, that " he liked not to marry his son with a portion of his daughter's tears."* We might infer, from the language which James publicly used on this occasion, that on the English side now the project of a Spanish union was entirely given up. James, however, still temporised, still dreading a war. In Spain, after the ♦ I have seen a letter from James to the Earl of Bristol, 13th Nov. 1623, in the Conway Papers, where this domestic monarch uses the same paternal language. Alluding to some movements in the Palatinate by Spain, unfayourable to a restitu- tion, James observes, that •' he must now receive satisfaction from the King of Spain in the affairs of- the Palatinate, for he cannot abandon his interests, and it would not be proper, when receiving one daughter in joy and content (the Infanta), to leave another in tears and sighs (Elizabeth, Queen of Bohemia). THE SPANISH MATCH. 43 departure of the Prince, the King continued to be, to all appear- ance, seriously occupied in favour of the match. He had a gallery erected in the streets, covered with the richest tapestry, to conduct " the Princess of Wales " in the magnificent solem- nity of the deposorios. "When the dispensation arrived from Rome, the ordnance resounded the joyful news, and the illumi- nated city reflected the zeal of the populace. The household of the Infanta was arranged, the presents and the large portion prepared, even the love-letter to the Prince, and the dutiful epistle to the father, to be dispatched on the day, were already composed.* These open preparations were afterwards the deri- sion of the Gazettes over Europe ; but it must be confessed that they most clearly prove the earnestness of the Spaniards. We cannot therefore believe, as it is usually maintained, that the Spanish match was merely a bait designed to be gorged by James's credulity. Neither had Philip been duped by James ; for in England, as we may find by manuscript letters of the time, the same preparations had occurred. We hear that "the new chapel for the Infanta goes on in building ; '■' f and there was a chapel erected for her at St. James's, of which Don Carlos Colonna laid the first stone. We find also that a deputation of the nobility had set out for Southampton to receive the Spanish Princess, to repair the high roads, and to get ready shows and pageants, for which latter purpose Inigo Jones, and Allen the player, accompanied them. The sincerity of both the principal parties, therefore, is unquestionable ; what then was the con- sternation in Madrid, when the proxy which Charles had depo- sited with Bristol, was ordered to be kept back till its power was suffered to expire ! Mutual recriminations followed, and then it was that Philip ordered the Infanta to drop her title of Princess of Wales. * In the collection of Royal Letters at the British Museum will be found a Spanish Letter from the Infanta to her future father, as she undoubtedly considered James I. t The Romanists, who have made history a lie by their legendary taste, are at all times imagining miracles, and describe the most human events in the celestial style of the Golden Legend. In a letter of Sir Henry Bourchier, he notices the workmen of the Romish chapel : — " The new chapel for the Infanta goes on in build- ing, and our London Papists report that the angels descend every night and build part of it." 44 SECRET HISTORY OF In the Spanish match James had a complex object. If the marriage restored the Palatinate, the Palatinate would make the match popular; the formidable and active Catholic party in England would be concihated by an English Catholic Queen. Strange as this consideration now sounds in our ear, it, however, greatly entered into the politics of the times. But the restora- tion of the Palatinate was in truth an English and Protestant, and not a Spanish and Roman Catholic, interest. Philip, indeed, had promised it ; yet when James positively required that the Spanish monarch should unite his forces with the English in protecting its independence, it was then that insurmountable difficulties hemmed in both parties. In restoring the Palatinate to the Protestant son-in-law of James, the King of Spain, as Olivarez declared, would, in giving his sister to Charles on those terms, be preparing for his new brother a desperate war with the Catholic party, within three months of his marriage ; and would ensure for himself a war with his uncle the Duke of Bavaria, the Emperor Ferdinand, and the whole Catholic league. It was one of James's difficulties, in contracting this wished-for alliance with Philip, that the English interest, which was to league and confederate with all the enemies of the House of Austria, would perpetually disturb the peace of this new alliance. Spain, in the proposed alliance with the Royal Family of England, had only adopted a favourite system, which had even become proverbial with the nation — " Guerra con todo el mundo Y Paz con la Inglaterra ! " To keep England from any close alliance with France, and to estrange her from the Netherlands, was the policy of the Cabinet of Madrid. The family union had been the dream of Spanish politics — since the day, perhaps, that saw a Philip on the Eng- lish throne. Once they had dared to propose Prince Henry's conversion ; and though the proposition was repulsed with scorn and indignation, yet the arrival of Charles in person, in their own city, seemed of itself half a conversion. The Spanish Catholics cherished a sanguine fancy about the mutability of the English in religion. If the will of one EngHsh monarch had altered, that of another had reinstated, the ancient faith. They THE SPANISH MATCH. 45 ■were informed by the Englisli Catholics that their holy mother, the Church, had many children here ; and Sir Toby Matthews, one of their most active heads, in a letter to the King of Spain, pressing on the marriage, declares that " should it be broken off, no Catholic but must expect the extremity of rigour from the common people, and the importunate malice of the Puri- tans." To relieve the Irish and the English Catholics, would be securing Spanish adherents ; and in war, half the nation might subdue the other ! England was a land which hitherto the heavens had guarded from their dark dominion ; but a Spanish princess, like another Virgin Mary, might alight among the martyrs of Rome, and mitigate, perhaps annul, " the penal laws and statutes." With Spain, the emancipation of the English and Irish Catholics was one of the great points of the negotia- tion, and the temporising politics of James and Charles flattered the Spaniards that the English princes had a leaning towards Rome. In one of the Papal state-papers, where his Holiness applied the term " Catholic Church " to his own, James inserted " Roman," asserting that he held himself to be as good a Catho- lic as the Bishop of Rome himself: Charles, on the other hand, wrote a complimentary letter of submission to the Pope, which astounded the zealous Protestants, as amounting, in their mind, to a declaration of Papistry. The truth is, that our sovereigns, at that period, were earnestly intent on relieving a very consi- derable body of their subjects jfrom almost intolerable restric- tions. During the present negotiation, the Spanish ambassador had become the organ of the fearful and distrustful Roman Catholics of our country; and he had obtained from James, under his Majesty's seal, the grant of a pardon for the past, and a dispensation and immunity from their legal restrictions for the future. The Catholics considered that this pardon and dispen- sation were revocable at the King's pleasure, and not binding on his successor. They therefore urged for the more public concession of a proclamation. But James, though willing to grant the grace under the great seal, addressed to the judges, justices, and other public officers, shrunk in terror from the public avowal of this secret article in the treaty. " A proclama- tion," said he, in his pointed manner, " is only for the vulgar people, who had no interest in the business, nor were capable of 46 SECRET HISTORY OP anything but fear and rumour." The Spaniards reproached him with evasion; but James was not such an apprentice in his famous " king-craft," as to set to hazard, with all its " divine and indefeasible rights," the crown itself; and this monarch repeatedly declared, that the Romanists in this country must expect nothing more than a connivance, and not a toleration. The political workings of the two Crowns began to develop themselves soon after the enthusiastic reception of Charles at Madrid. The negotiation doubled through all the bland wind- ings of concession and conciliation ; but the parties, when they came to a close explanation, detected that a Catholic and Protestant interest run counter to each other ; and parallel lines can no more join together in politics than geometry. But nothing seems impossible to great diplomatists ; the immediate object of the Spanish interest was to conclude the marriage, to separate the Court of St. James's from that of the Louvre, and Olivarez proceeded, relying on his diplomatic address to ward off everything obnoxious, while Buckingham imagined by his audacious spirit to strike off in a heat what had long lain intract- able in the coldness of negotiation. On the side of England, whenever the spirit was high, the restitution of the Palatinate was urged; whenever the Spaniard was to be soothed, this matter, it was agreed, might be conveniently postponed till the marriage was solemnised. But the subterranean current which undermined the specious but false fabric was the personal dispositions of the actors so deeply engaged ; the mighty hatreds of Olivarez and Buckingham, and the fears and jealousies of Bristol. The young Princes, their masters, were but the state puppets which the hands of these intriguing ministers secretly moved with an artificial life. Such was the little confidence between the parties, that each sought by the most subdolous contrivances to get at the secret motions of the other. The secret correspondence of both parties was mutually betrayed ; Charles tells James, " By the French ambassador's means the Spanish ambassador has seen all the letters that we have written to you : you are betrayed in your bed-chamber." This, how- ever, was trivial, compared with the magnitude of our own ambassador's doings at Madrid; for Lord Bristol put forth some claims for the value of his services when he declared that THE SPANISH MATCH. 47 there was not a letter sent by the King of Spain to any other State, of which James had not a copy before it came to the place of its destination; not a port in Spain which had not been sounded ; not an expedition but its intention had been revealed. One extraordinary fact, perhaps unrivalled in the annals of diplomacy, the Earl thus relates : — " I used such industry as to get all the papers of the King's private cabinet into my hands ; took copies and notes of such of them as I thought useful ; and upon every of them set my private mark before they were conveyed back again, to the end that if I should have an occasion to have charged him with any thing mentioned in the same papers, I might let him see I knew it, by telling him in what paper it was, and marked with such a mark.'' It is however curious to add, that even this subtile and pro- found statesman entertained, in his own house, a spy placed by Buckingham, who had in his pocket a power ready, at a critical moment, to paralyse, as it finally did, all the machina- tions and stratagems of Bristol himself. Such was the political march of " the Spanish Match ; " but these mutual deceptions had so multiplied, these crooked paths had so perversely crossed each other, that the actors could no longer extricate themselves from the labyrinth in which their folly had involved them. The only real difficulty that now remained was, to determine which should bear the infamy of the rupture. James, in his speech to Parliament on the project of the French match, acknowledges, that by the Spanish negotiation ''he had been taught this piece of wisdom, — that generality brings nothing to good issue, but that before any matter can be fully finished, it must be brought to particulars." This was a political axiom not inappropriate when delivered from the throne, but it concealed the mystery of the sudden rupture of a royal marriage long planned, and by both parties equally desired. 48 SECRET HISTORY OP CHAPTER V. SECRET HISTORY OF THE FRENCH MATCH.— ROYAL AND POLITICAL MARRIAGES. We now change the scene and the actors, but it is only a second part of the same comedy. After the return of the Prince from Madrid, the ancient con- nexion between the two Governments — for in poHtical history an uninterrupted alliance of more than twenty years may be deemed ancient — was virtually, though not openly, dissolved. In a change of councils, new measures were meditated; but before a Parliament was called, and a tale was framed to cap- tivate the listeners, and humour the nation already prepared for a Spanish war, Buckingham was busied by domestic and foreign arrangements. Our Duke had strangely wrested, from the fears of the good people of England for the safety of their Prince, a popularity for which it seems he had a taste, which had never hitherto been gratified. Whenever a people labour under a political panic, however unfounded, he who accidentally removes the illusory fear, may chance to receive a nation^s unmerited grati- tude. The person of the Prince, which had been placed in possible danger by the hardy imprudence of the adventurous minister, had been more secured by the inviolability of Spanish honour, than by any wisdom of his conductor — yet, in the heat of English fears, Spain appeared an enemy, and Buckingham a patriot. Coke saluted the Duke as " the saviour of his country.'' In this blaze of popularity, when the name of Buck- ingham echoed from the mouths of the people, the Duke found no difficulty in intriguing with the Opposition through the agency of Dr. Preston, a courtly Puritan, and chaplain of the Prince, and in laying tlie foundation of a coalition with his former adversaries in Parliament. After these precautionary measures at home, he had to look abroad and to substitute a new influence in Europe for that THE FRENCH MATCH. 49 which had ceased to be. He was to search into the long- neglected cabinet of France. A quarrel with Spain was a certain means of uniting the Gaul with the Briton; for in politics there exists no impedi- ment to the formation of a strict alliance, whenever a common prey is pointed out. In the new system, France was to fill up the vacancy of Spain ; and the political marriage, which had failed at Madrid, was to be consummated at Paris. The movements of states- men are not always complicate ; the mechanisni^ of cabinets is sometimes a very simple operation. A treaty, however, is always uncertain in its termination; and, however simple its objects, the treaty itself may chance to be extremely complicate; and, even after signature, utterly incapable of being executed. As Hymen had now to lead the diplomatic corps, two ambas- sadors-extraordinary, the perfect representations of Love himself, were selected by the volatile and impetuous Minister of England. These graceful emissaries were two congenial friends, — the Earl of Holland and the Earl of Carlisle ; two courtiers " as accom- plished as were to be found in the palaces of all the Princes of Europe;" — ^heroes of a drawing-room, personages to figure in a masque or a ballet, whose glittering and lovely forms were idolised by the women. The Earl of Carlisle was the modeller of fashions, from whose inventions the vainest did " but transcribe copies." His bound- less passion for magnificence was cultivated with all the earnestness of business, though Clarendon observes that ^'his universal understanding would have taken as much delight in any other way." His great abilities, and his firm and elevated views in negotiation, are displayed in his correspondence ; and it is difiicult to comprehend how so capacious a mind could contract itself into so diminutive a passion, so petty seems its object, so vehement its pursuit ! He consumed the vast revenues which royal favour and two splendid marriages had provided; and having thus expended nearly half a million of money in this personal lustre, *' he left not a house nor an acre of land to be remembered by." He was a Scotchman, who, bred in France, and living in England, had wisely cast ofi^ his VOL. I, £ 50 SECRET HISTORY OF nationality when it could only occasion pain, and he was perhaps the only Scotch follower of James whom Englishmen loved. A life of pleasure — to delight himself and to be the delight of others — he considered more innocent than a life in which, though inspired by severer virtues, the hearts of men rankle with rivalry, or are criminal through ambition. The Earl died as he had lived : the Epicurean calmly withdrew from this festival of existence, careless even of death ! Henry Richj Lord Kensington, and, in the progress of the French treaty. Earl of Holland, from the moment he was received at Court, had attached himself to the Duke of Buckingham, whose vehement friendship was sure to accelerate the prosperity of the creatures of his favour. He had fixed Lord Kensington about the person of Prince Charles, as gentle- man of his bed-chamber, and had thus secured at all times one who would protect his interest with the heir of the Crown. The EarPs conversation was attractive ; — Clarendon notices his "lovely presence/' and a contemporary poet describes it — " Thy beauty too exceeds the sex of men.'* The correspondence of these lords is characteristic, and to the political investigator their letters are highly instructive. These two accomplished courtiers, though intimates, were of opposite characters. We see the soft, corrupt creature of place and power in the Earl of Holland, pliant in his principles, inex- haustible in his adulation ; but we are struck by the force of dignity, and the elevation of intellect, in the profound councils of the Earl of Carlisle, who, with the talent of developing truth, had too much greatness of mind to disguise or to conceal it. Lord Kensington was, about three months after the return of the Prince from Spain, sent on a secret mission to the Court of France. He bore no official character, for it was a voyage of discovery, preliminary to a more settled intercourse. Mary of Medicis, the Queen -Mother of France, however, had long desired this poUtical marriage. As far back as in 1G20, five years before the present time, it appears by some letters recently pubhshed of Lord Herbert, that he wrote from Paris to James the First, that " a proposition of marriage had been carried by THE FRENCH MATCH. 51 the Lord Buisson to England j but that James had answered that he was now too far engaged with Spain." The match was popular with the French nation; and when the diversity of religion was alleged, it was said with characteristic levity, that '' a wife ought to have no will but that of her husband." The English envoy on his arrival found that the Queen- Mother governed the state ; and his first visit was to the Louvre. So little was Louis the Thirteenth interested by this arrival, that the young monarch did not suspend his perpetual move- ments, and on the following day went to the country ; but the presence of the English Earl produced not quite so slight an impression on the Spanish Ambassador, who, disturbed and agitated, appears to have had a full conception of the purport of the visit. The Spaniard instantly sent forth a rumour that the alliance between the two Courts of Spain and England was completed, and that the marriage was on the point of taking place -J so that, as this Spanish comment ran. Lord Kensington might have spared himself a journey, which was only designed, as it was maliciously insinuated, to hasten his master to do that which he considered the same as done. To paralyse the efforts of the English visitor, and to conciliate the confidence of the French, was the first business of the politic Spaniard. The Queen-Mother, however, was only the more curious in her inquiries about the terms on which the Spanish alliance stood. Lord Kensington was guarded in his first answers. He did not deem it prudent to open at once, and he only complained of the Spanish tediousness, which, according to their old custom, had out-wearied the King and the Prince, and he thought that the Spanish alliance would soon have an end. As the term " Spanish Alliance," included both the treaty and the marriage, it was still ambiguous. The Queen-Mother on this point, more a woman than a politician, then directly touched on the marriage. His Lordship, by repeating more strongly that he considered the treaty was at an end, delicately insinuated that the marriage would never take place. Day-light was breaking on this dark business, to the comfort of both parties. Lord Kensington, though unfurnished with official powers to address himself direct to the Ministers, had however taken up his station. They knew where to communicate with him, and E 2 52 SECRET HISTORY OP politicians lose not a day. They contrived to acquaint him with their dispositions of amity and alliance. Not only the Ministers secretly communicated their wishes, but the Queen-Mother added her part, assuring his lordship that she had often indulged the hope that her daughter should be given to the Prince of Wales, " but/' she significantly observed, *' the female must be sought j she may be no suitor ! " Thus Lord Kensington was treading a path of roses. The ^linisters were as eagerly compliant for the political union, as the Queen-Mother gloried in the more tender one, in spite, it seems, of the manoeuvres of the Spanish ambassador, who having at first indulged his Cervantic vein by putting the question to every one — " Whether the Prince of Wales could have two wives, since he is married to the Infanta?" — afterwards, more angrily, in his rhodomontades, talked of the armies his master could shortly bring into the field. Olivarez, in process of time, sent bigger words from Madrid ; for there he told our ambas- sador, that if the Pope granted a dispensation for the match with France, the King of Spain would march to Rome and sack it ! On which Mary of Medicis, that long experienced pohtician, promptly answered — Vraiment nous V empecherons Men, car nous lui taglierons asses de besogne ailleurs. — A year afterwards she was herself a solitary exile ! The Spaniard was moving heaven and earth against the alli- ance of France and England — the Pope, the press, and cabinet intrigues. The Court of Madrid long influenced his Holiness to refuse the Dispensation, without which the marriage would be invalid. They got up a mysterious conspiracy against Buck- ingham and Charles, in secret midnight interviews with James, and unquestionably had succeeded in terrifying the aged mo- narch, who was on the point of dismissing the favourite from his councils. They opened the presses of Italy, Germany, and Flanders, with a volley of pamphlets. They procured a German Jesuit to publish two, on the unnatural alliance between a Catholic monarch and Lutheran heretics, which made the more noise when the Sorbonne condemned them as libels.* * Tlicsc were Admomtio ad Ltulovicum XIII.— and Mystcria Politica. The author was Keller, or, as the name is translated into Latin, Ccllarius. There is a cxirioua account of this famous Mystcria Politica in the Mercure Franyois XI. 34. THE FRENCH MATCH. 53 But Lord Kensington, however he might feel the roses springing under his feet, seemed unambitious of handling the thorny politics. He therefore suggested to his Court, the pro- priety of separating the propositions of the treaty from the arrangement of the marriage ; for in the delicacy of his fears he considered that, by insisting on both together, it would look as if the one were designed to force the French king to the other. He dreaded the mutual jealousies of both parties in framing a treaty, incited, as they might be, by the crafty wisdom of the Spaniard, who, in despair, would do everything to win over one side. In France they imagined that Spain might still seduce England by the restitution of the Palatinate; but in England they might dread that France would be divided from. us by the restoration of the Valtoline. Such is a picture of the mutual suspicions which harass our Cabinet politicians — and of the unhappiness of their far-sighted views of that mutual susceptibility of inconstancy, so preva- lent whenever new state interests are to be substituted for former ones. A fresh impulse came from London. The favourable dis- positions of the French Cabinet, which Lord Kensington trans- mitted to the Duke, induced the minister to touch a secret spring of communication, in an overture to the Count de Tillieres, the French Ambassador. A gentleman is hastened with a secret dispatch for the French king, containing the joyful intelligence ; the royal answer arrives immediately, that no one more than the French monarch valued the alliance of so great a monarch as his Britannic Majesty. The Earl of Carlisle, provided with ample powers, sets off to open the negotiation, which was to combine the strength of two great nations, and change the face of Europe. There was no difficulty in conveying to the French the It is a collection of pretended letters from eminent persons in different parts of Em-ope. The writer ingeniously enters into the views of the different cabinets with, unsparing freedom. The art of this political writer consists in infusing jealousies among the Combined Powers. He appears to have been well furnished with information : he would alarm France that her new ally is again " entering the garden of the flews de lis ; " and while he treats James with irony for his warlike preparations, he attempts more solemnly to kindle suspicions between the father and tlie son j the Parliament ; the Anglican Church ; and the Puritans. 54, SECRET HISTORY OF arguments of the English Ministry, for breaking with Spain : at Paris, they were most valid, since both parties found their political interest to be the same. It is curious to observe the arguments of the Count de Brienne, the French first secretary of state, and afterwards minister, in favour of this new alliance with England. The justice of the complaints of the Cabinet of St. James's against that of Madrid, are allowed to the full ; and the policy demonstrated by the most subtle reasoning, of the restitution of the Palatinate, that favourite object of the Pro- testant cause, and of the English nation. The English interests in an instant are identified with the French. The minister, the Duke de la Vieuville, had earnestly opened this amicable intercourse with England. The French Cabinet was strongly disposed for a Spanish war ; but sometimes it is difficult even to raise a pretext for an open declaration, and the minister, therefore, now gladly took up the Protestant and forlorn cause of the Palatinate, while his most Christian Majesty in the style of diplomacy, or of the French Mercure, with " all justice and piety,'' acted with the disinterested resolution of succouring the allies of France, the United Provinces, the Swiss, the Northern Powers, and even the Turks — to check the growing ambition of Spain pressing on its neighbours. In a treaty of alliance, and a royal marriage with England, each was a pledge of that unity of power and coalition of interests, which were to strike at the preponderancy of Imperial Austria in the wide career of her ambition ; and divide Europe into two vast confederacies, where the Protestant interest was not only to oppose the Roman Catholic, but the flame once kindled, poHtical interests were even to unite the Lutheran with the Catholics. The Venetian who feared Spain, and did not love France, was to combine with the Swiss, the Hollander, and the Dane : while the far-distant Bohemian was invited to plunder certain cities of Germany, and quaff" the wines of the Moselle, which, it seems, the Emperor had accorded to be their "honourable stipend." Lord Kensington had imagined, by the ardour with which he himself and the Earl of Carlisle were entertained, that no pos- sible obstructions could arise in the smooth progress of the treaty, and still less in that of the marriage, and he counted on THE FRENCH MATCH. 55 the accomplisliment of these important objects as on an affair of ten days. The Duke de la Vieuville was a zealous, but a weak prime minister, directing a cabinet divided into small parties. He sought for an accession of influence by conciliating the Queen- Mother's favour in procuring her favourite, the Bishop of Lufon, who soon became the redoubted Cardinal de Richelieu, to be admitted into the Cabinet Council. It was the Minister's intention, as the young King made no scruple to inform the secretaries, not to admit the Bishop to the more interior secrets of state, but to advise with him only in occasional consultations ; a custom which it seems the Premier had been wont to adopt with others to whom he had never yielded his entire confidence : least of all men, did he desire to yield this confidence to the Bishop of Lu9on, whose character he was so judicious as to dislike, but whose aid he was so weak as to require. The King, who was governed by his mother, wished, on the contrary, to grant the most unreserved confidence to this political aspirant, whose talents were already felt by those about him. Mediocrity, seeking for an ally in Genius, is inviting the most dangerous of its enemies ; and such half-measures as the present are sure to end in the very evil they dread. All this is verified in the fate of the Duke de la Vieuville — his weak precautions ensured his ruin. Even while the treaty with England was in progress, the obscure favourite of Mary de Medicis was to be the man who was adroitly to expel from the royal councils those who had called him there; to cast into exile his unhappy patroness ; to hold his sovereign in bondage j to guide the destinies of Europe ; and unquestionably to con- tribute to the destruction of Charles the First, the very prince whose double union, personal and political, with France, at present so deeply engaged his labours. What a career may a mighty genius run, unconscious to itself ! The treaty of marriage was the more favourite negotiation with Lord Kensington, and this hymeneal ambassador, faithful to his charge, was studying how to make the Prince of Wales and the Princess of France enamoured of each other. A con- fidential letter was sometimes addressed to Charles, as well as to the Minister. His Lordship repeats how all in France repute 56 SECRET HISTORY OF his Royal Highness to be "the most complete young Prince and person in the world." " The sweet Princess Madame" long felt a passionate desire to view " the shadow of the person so honoured," the Prince's picture, which his Lordship wore about his neck, yet this poor young lady durst not, like the Queen and other princesses, open it, and consider it, and admire it ; she only saw it afar off, " she whose heart was nearer it than any of the others that did most gaze upon it." Impatient for a leisurely inspection of a physiognomy doomed by politics, if not by love, to be the arbiter of her happiness or her glory, a confidential lady was the messenger to his Lordship to entreat for a short loan of the portrait of Prince Charles. Our flowery courtier may tell the romantic incident in his own words, a curious specimen of an amatorial embassy. We seem to read a passage from the Arcadia of Sidney. " As soon as she saw the party that brought it, she retired into her cabinet, calling only her in, when she opened the picture in such haste as showed a true picture of her passion, blushing in the instant at her own guiltiness. She kept it an hour in her hands, and when she returned it, she gave it many praises of your person. Sir, this is a business so fit for your secrecy, as I know it shall never go farther than unto the King your father, my Lord Duke of Buckingham, and my Lord of Carlile's knowledge. A tenderness in this is honourable, for I would rather die a thousand times than it should be published, since I am by this lady trusted, that is for beauty and goodness an angel." There was, however, something more serious in this diplomatic correspondence, between Kensington and the Prince, for his Lordship records his Royal Highnesses opinion, as he had received it from Buckingham, that the treaty of alliance should precede that of the marriage, so that business, as well as love, engaged the attention of the intended bridegroom. But to return from love to politics ! Lord Kensington arrived at Paris in February, where, though he found all parties disposed to his purpose, yet France required a public demonstration from the English Court, that her ancient amity with Spain had terminated. This was now no longer any THE FRENCH MATCH. 57 obstacle in this negotiation with France ; Buckingham told his own tale in his own way ; Charles had sanctioned it ; war with Spain was decreed by the voice of Parliament, and the pacific James reluctantly armed for the Palatinate in the succeeding month. As in the Spanish, so in the French negotiation, an intract- able article concerned the English Catholics. At first the French had appeared less catholicised than the Spaniard : the pulse of the Minister beat temperately, and he seemed satisfied by certain explanations of Lord Kensington, which threw a new light over the ambiguous conduct of James, whose frequent revival of the penal laws against his Catholic subjects had been in compliance with the cries of his Parliaments and his people. The French Minister only requested that the English Monarch would not tie his hands up so strictly as to be disabled from bestowing some moderate favours on his Catholics ; and that he would allow of the mediation of France, in case the alliance should take place, "Else,^' observed the French statesman, "we shall not save our honour, and shall hardly be reputed Cathohcs.'' But a sudden change interrupts the negotiation. They rise in their demands. The English ambassadors declare that what they asked in favour of the Catholics, to be allowed an Established Church, was contrary to the laws of England, and they would never consent to it. The French then appeal to the Spanish treaty, and they declare that their Princess is not to be treated for, on inferior terms than the Infanta. The English now were forced to propose, that in their high consideration of the King and Madame, the Catholics should be as favourably treated as the articles concerted with Spain had allowed, provided this article was not inserted in the contract. The King and the Prince should sign a letter, which was to contain the ofi'ensive obligation which they dared not disclose to the nation at large. But a letter, it was observed, might be easily disavowed, while a marriage contract was a solemn act perpetuating its object. The distressed negotiators looked on each other in dismay. Both sides seemed to dread a renewal of the seven years' treaty 58 SECRET HISTORY OF of Madrid. The Queen-Mother had openly said " QuHl meritoit d'etre lapide qui s'y opposeroit." Conferences multiplied, diffi- culties were debated, and the Minister de Vieuville, in equal impatience and embarrassment, agreed with the English ambas- sadors, that, provided the letter were written in very strong and positive terms, he would satisfy his own Sovereign ; and to gain over the other French Commissioners, he proposed that Lord Kensington should hasten to England, bearing a letter of credit from Louis the Thirteenth to James the First, finally to adjust the more difficult points. After this suggestion, the Minister followed the French King to the country, and on his return commanded the Count de Brienne to expedite this letter of credit to Lord Kensington, constituting his Lordship the secret agent of the French Monarch, and which letter he and ,the ambassadors of England had concerted together. The Count de Brienne, or Lomenie, first Secretary of State, and one of the Commissioners for the Treaties, was evidently engaged in the interests of an opposite party. Struck at the consequence of writing a letter conferring such secret powers on Lord Kensington, and suspecting that the Minister had gone far beyond the intentions of the Cabinet, and further considering that where doubt was so decided, disobedience might be a prudent duty, the Secretary of State played off" a trick on the Minister and the Ambassador. Aware that Lord Kensing- ton understood the French language but very imperfectly, as he tells us, instead of drawing up a letter of this confidential nature, he composed one in which was no mention of business ; it only described the amusements which then occupied His Most Christian Majesty.* The English Ambassador proceeded to England with this amusing letter ; but as soon as Richelieu arrived in Paris, an extraordinary eclaircissement occurred. The Count de Brienne in raillery reproached the Cardinal's reserve towards him, in * Whether Count Do Brienne has told a pleasant story to enliven the memoirs which he composed for the instruction of his family, or flattered himself on his dexterity more than was his due, I cannot decide ; but it seems not probable that the Earl of Holland, afterwards a great favourite with Henrietta Maria, was so inexpert in the French language. During the present negotiation he has given in his letters some conversations in their native idiom. THE FRENCH MATCH. 59 having concealed his consent in so important an affair as the King's letter of credit. The news startled the Cardinal, and he ruminated ; lauding, however, the sage precaution taken in a matter of infinite delicacy, by his most judicious friend the Count de Brienne. The result of this communication appeared not long after. The Cardinal is now Chef du Conseil. De Brienne, or Lomenie's, signature is affixed to the royal ordonnances, and the late minister is thrust into an old castle. He stands charged with abusing the King's confidence while treating with foreign ambassadors, and with other accusations, such as a fallen minister is liable to. He is accused of a chimerical enterprise to convey water to Paris, which was much in want of it ; of squeezing purses in the disposal of places, by some who could not get promotion ; of a design to take possession of a house which did not belong to him — in a word, De Vieuville furnished the colporteurs of the Pont-neuf for a month, with pamphlets sous lb manteau, in which, among other charges, it was asserted that he was so penurious that no one could get anything by him ; but the choice scandal was entitled, " The public voice to the King," though it might be considered as a private one, coming as it did from a person who had been struck off the Pen- sion List when the Minister attempted an economical reform. Thus that very impracticable treaty about English Catholics, which had cost fruitless years in Spain, in a few months turned out the French Premier.* The disavowal of the acts of a minister threw everything back. It shook the councils of James the First, who concluded that "the French King was taking up the fashion of Spain • Mercure Fran9ois, X. 671. — Memoires du Comte De Brienne. — Biog. Uni- vei'selle, Art. de Vieuville. This minister, after having been expatriated, outlived his great enemy, and returned to France, resuming all his honours under Louis the Fourteenth, with the character of a disinterested and zealous minister. The fact is, that Vieuville was far too accommodating to satisfy the Catholic party. We gather this from the Mercure. The writer having observed the advantages of the treaty, in having gained thirteen years for the education of the children as Catholics, instead of ten, as had been granted to the Spaniards, he adds, " Had not the Marquis de la Vieuville passed over too many other points in this treaty, the interests of religion had been better served ; had he continued in office, we should not even have suc- ceeded thus far : — it was the happy change of administration which procured for us what has happened." — Mercure Francois, XII. 901. 60 SECRET HISTORY OF to entangle this business." The Count De Tillieres is recalled, and a new French Ambassador, the Marquis d'Effiat, is to repair the mischances of the past. Of an insinuating character, he winds into the good graces of the King, the Prince, and Buckingham. In proportion to the Cardinal's ascendancy in the cabinet, the treaties moved the more sluggishly. Richelieu was inflexibly bent on supporting the Romanists in England. The most extraordinary argument the Marquis d'Effiat urged for their emancipation was, that if that were granted, the Protestants would have the greater chance of their conversion, since then each party would fairly debate, and openly enUghten one another. Truth at least would prove infallible. It was imagined that the Protestant could not deny the force of free discussion ; but " what is truth?" jestingly said Pilate, or rather Lord Bacon, particularly when both parties proclaim that they alone possess her, and also that they will both combat for her. It was on this occasion that the French Ambassador, accord- ing to the Mercure Fran5ois, held out as an illustration of his argument, that the late monarch of France, Henry the Fourth, by allowing freedom of religion, had by this means gained over many of the " Religion pretendue," whom the monarchs his pre- decessors had thrown into rebellion, and made more obstinate in their opinions, by multiplying their persecutions. It is curi- ous to listen to a Romanist advocating the cause of toleration, but it is always in a Protestant land I Of the present remark- able argument of the Marquis d'Efl&at, which we shall have occasion again to refer to, we may discover the fallacy by noticing the close of Roman Catholic toleration in the cruel revocation of this very edict of Nantes, on which he grounds his argument for Catholic emancipation in England. The negotiation thus advanced and retrograded, the agents on both sides were shocked at the vacillations of their own cabinets; at their ambiguous instructions, or their fresh de- mands. What had been agreed on was retracted; what men- tioned, explained in a sense quite contrary to what the other party understood. Lord Carlisle at length was compelled to take down in writing their resolutions, and on one occasion silenced the debate by delivering them their former words. THE FRENCH MATCH. 61 The Marquis d^Effiat was so wearied of the part he had to play, that he requested to be recalled. At one period, both parties being at a loss to proceed, the French agreed to be satisfied with a solemn promise, that the Eoman Catholics in England should at least be not less favour- ably treated than they were to have been if the Spanish match had been concluded. De Brienne observes, "We would not explain particulars, or enter into conditions ; and the ambassa- dors then consented that this hitherto insurmountable article should, in such general terms, appear in the contract.^' But when they came to particulars, they did not find their work the clearer by such clumsy botching. On another occa- sion, when a fair copy was made of the Ecrit Secret, which James and Charles were to sign, concerning the English Catho- lics, to use Lord Carlisle's words, " the infamous word Liberty was, by the false suggestions and artifices of Ville aux Clercs, foistered in." By this " infamous word Liberty," we must infer that it was a covert attempt on the French side to disguise Catholic emancipation. But if at one moment they relaxed into general terms, defining nothing, at another they rigidly assumed the most specific and absolute conditions. The real cause of the phases of this negotiation was the anxiety of James, who, knowing that Spain was practising with France upon any terms to break off this treaty, and who alarmed lest this rupture should a second time expose him to the laughter of the world, was evidently more compliant to the Marquis d'Effiat at London, than the Earl of Carlisle was to Richelieu at Paris. James even consented to "the infamous word," if it could not be razed out without disturbing the amity of France ; observing that " it carries with it a great deal more show than substance;" and unquestionably it would hereafter, by the force of royal logic, signify nothing. But this facility at home traversed the efi'orts of our ambassador, who was often singing to the deaf; and he requested that they would speak to the French ambassador in a higher tone. Lord Carlisle writes home, with great force and discrimination : " Quarrel with the Marquis d'Effiat ; not with his person, for that is worthy of all favour and esteem ; but quarrel with his charge, with his commission, and with his minister's arts ; who, 62 SECRET HISTORY OP when they find 'tis inflexible, set him awork. If any thing be granted to hira, then they stop our mouths withal ; if he promise any thing, that they disavo v. , as having no commission to treat/' When Lord Carlisle alluded to the French agreement of fur- nishing their quota of troops in the common league, the Car- dinal replied by alluding to the freedom of the Catholic priests. " Donnez-nous des Pretres, et nous vous donnerons des Colonels /" exclaimed Richelieu in the combined spirit of a cardinal and a commander-in-chief. The dispensation from the Pope was used as a great machine, to be worked or to be stopped as suited the French party. At Rome it was ever delayed. We had there a Roman Catholic lord acting for us against the close intrigues of Spain. The French Archbishop of Ambrun came over here, and has left us a mystifying memoir, in which he either persuaded him- self, or would others, that James was a Roman Catholic. The situation of James was pitiable. Every endeavour on his part to relieve his Roman Catholic subjects, then far more numerous than in our times; every expression of a conciliatory nature; every vain dream of the re-union of the opposite churches, was sure to be construed far beyond its meaning by those who still lingered in hope. The French Cabinet could not confide to his Holiness their own secrets of State ; and the Pope lightly appreciated the bare word of an heretical sovereign. Could " the Father of the Faithful" sanction a league of the "pretended reformed" against his own ancient children ? The true child of the Pope was his beloved Spain, and she was on her knees before him. But as the Papal Cabinet was still the arena of the political wrestlers, Father BeruUe, not long after Cardinal, was dispatched on the French interest, to demonstrate to his Holiness that from this royal marriage great advantages would accrue to the Catho- lics of England. The secret history of this dispensation would form no incurious tale. It was slowly wrung from St. Peter, and was long in coming. A menace from Cardinal RicheHeu hastened its last steps. When the Minister grew impatient for the state-espousal, he declared that the marriage should take place without the dispensation, which might arrive after. ^ THE FEENCH MATCH. 63 At length De Brienne himself was dispatched to England ostensibly to ratify the articles, but really to procure what he calls " an act sealed by the Lord Keeper/' which should secure the favourable conditions demanded for the Roman Catholics. These were probably those secret articles which were of so extraordinary a nature that they startled the world when they were revealed to the public eye. The feelings of the Romanists were sadly put to the test by a circumstance which now occurred. The King, among other civilities, had desired the Lord Keeper Williams to invite the French ambassadors-extraordinary to a supper. His lordship resolved, as Dean of Westminster, to give the banquet in the Jerusalem Chamber, Westminster Abbey, but to precede it by an episcopal collation of his own contrivance, taking advantage of the locality to introduce these bigoted Romanists into the heretical church. He got the resident ambassador to consent to be present at a prayer for the King; it being Christmas-day, he had the whole Christmas service performed, to show the Romanists that there was " no corruption of doctrine, much less of heresy," so that they might report favourably to the Princess Henrietta, and be witnesses how nearly the English service approximated to the Roman. At the north gate of the Abbey, his lordship, at the head of his clergy, received them in pontifical state; the exterior and interior of the Abbey were every where illuminated with torches, that the strangers might lose nothing of the pomp and solemnity of the ceremonies. Entreating the ambassadors, with their nobles and gentlemen, to enter, he promised, on the word of a bishop, that nothing should happen which could ofi*end their feelings. The organ was played by the great musician of the times, Orlando Gibbons; the choristers, in their rich copes and with exquisite voices, chanted three anthems; and the Lord Keeper presented to each of the foreigners the Liturgy printed in their own lan- guage. The story is told in triumph by the biographer of the archbishop.* The French company behaved decorously, and departed with a due impression of " that form of holiness in which the English * Racket's Life of Archbishop WilUams, p. 210. 64 SECRET HISTORY OP monarch worshipped." However, the ambassadors themselves, for whom the treat was designed, had not only no reverence to bestow on this occasion, but were strongly affected, both by their religious and diplomatic character. Ville aux Clercs kept on his hat, and when all others carried away their French book of prayers, he left his, in the stall of the choir in which he sat, as if it had been forgotten, and no one thought proper to bring it to him. The truth is, that there were two causes why this ecclesiastical entertainment proved so trying to the feelings of the French ambassadors. To assist at the service of Protest- ants was accounted no light sin, and the English Romanists were watchful of the conduct of the French party, that they might report it to the Spanish. One of the French ambassadors, the Count de Brienne, whose name does not appear in the biography of the Lord Keeper, has recorded the horrors of that evening. " I reproached," he says, " Monsieur d'Effiat ever to have consented to this invitation of hearing a prayer for the King of England. I pointed out to him the consequences of French ambassadors joining in prayer with Protestants. It was a trap which I resolved to elude, and, leaving my lodging late, meant to go straight to the deanery, and not to the church. But I found the Lord Keeper dressed in his pontifical habits, advancing with his clergy to receive us at the porch : he obUged us to follow him, and conducted us, in spite of ourselves, to seats which had been prepared for us. I therefore resolved, while they chanted anthems, to kneel ; and to show that I did not participate in their prayers, I said my chapelet, counting my beads. This greatly edified the EngUsh Catholics." * De Brienne, however, was more particularly gratified by the political civility of the English Cabinet, in qualifying his Most Christian Majesty, " King of France and Navarre," and not according to the ancient custom of England, as " the French King." "For the English," he tells us, "argue, that if the people of France acknowledge this Prince and obey him, that nevertheless his Britannic Majesty possesses a legitimate claim to the country and the territory of France." f • M^moires du Comte de Brienne, i. 1 93. t This obsolete absurdity of a pretension to the Crown of France, by a nation who could not maintain an army tliere, was carried on tlirough a long series of THE FRENCH MATCH. 65 But at the very moment that De Brienne was here engaged in a solemn ratification of the treaties, he was himself suddenly shocked at their infraction by his own Court. The English army, already collected at Dover, under Mansfeldt, was preparing for their passage through France, where they were to be joined by their new allies. This was a point long agreed on. De Brienne was on the eve of departure : he had to partake of a magnificent supper given by Buckingham. A courier arrived from Paris, which, as he says, in his mind threatened to put an end to all such fetes, and indeed violently agitated his honourable feelings. His dispatches contained an order from the French monarch, notwithstanding our convention, adds De Brienne, that the English would not be allowed to land at Calais, on the frivolous excuse, that the Treaty of Alliance would not take place till after the marriage. At mid- night he hastened to consult the French ambassador on this fatal intelligence, this first open violation of the treaties ; and however subtlely the Marquis d^Effiat afterwards practised on Buckingham, it only added one more deception to the chain of duplicity, by which all parties were involved. This insin- cerity of the French monarch is perfectly explained by an observation which De Brienne has elsewhere thrown out, and it oflfers an interesting picture of that conflict of adverse interests which will often torment the breast of a sovereign. After all these negotiations, Louis the Thirteenth was irresolute in his own mind to break with Spain, whose sinister power, though it was suspected, was not more so than that of the English monarch ; for it was known to Louis that his Huguenots, who were then acq^iiring daily strength, looked toward England as the true champion of their cause ; and little was the French monarch solicitous to contribute in calling forth the force of England. Although the policy of his Cabinet had resolved to reigns, and has been only recently corrected. The Dutch edition of De Brienne's Memoirs observes, that the addresses of our Parliament, when levelled against Louis the Fourteenth, always contemptuously treated this monarch as " the French King," but that his most Christian Majesty was sure to recover his titles in times of peace ; and he adds, that children in their quarrels treat one another in the same way. It is thus great nations have sometimes perpetuated follies consecrated by ancient prejudices. VOL. I. F C6 SECRET HISTORY OF aid the Prince Palatine to recover his States, two contrary phantoms were continually haunting the mind of Louis. On one side he beheld with dread the elevation of the House of Austria, and on the other he feared that of England.* At length, on the 10th of November, 1G24, the treaties had been signed by both parties, and it was imagined that, after almost a yearns anxious labours, the moment of repose had arrived. In politics, it seems, that affairs may be finished, but not concluded. Three months afterwards we have an energetic and an admirable letter from Lord Carlisle, from which I shall make some extracts, as not only continuing our narrative, but as also being an evidence, that the epistolary style in the days of James the First, when not the work of pedantry and affectation, loses nothing in force and beauty when compared with our own. " They are grown so indiscreetly and unreasonably presump- tuous, as to impose a new treaty upon us, after a perfect treaty concluded, signed and sworn by his Majesty : under the Pope's borrowed name they would exact not only all the dishonourable and prejudicial circumstances which, with much labour and contestation, we had avoided or rejected, but would inforce no less than a direct and public toleration, not by connivance, promise, or ecrit secret j but by a public notification to all the Roman Catholics of all his Majesty's kingdoms whatsoever, confirmed by his Majesty's and the Prince's oath, and attested by a public act. This holdeth proportion, I must confess, with the whole course of their former proceedings." Lord Carlisle had British feelings. Indignant at Richelieu's manoeuvres, in an elevated strain, by which few ministers are so fortunate as to be addressed by their political agents, he solemnly charges Buckingham to maintain the dignity of the crown, and secure the hearts of the people. ♦ It may be worth noticing, and it proves that this failure of the French King of his promise was not forgotten, that afterwards, in the address of Buckingham's secretary to the Rochellers, it is particularly ascribed to the influence of the Jesuits and Spanish interest over the French monarch. " By means of this faction, the refusal of a passage to the army in England provided for Count de Mansfeldt, at the moment of their departure, which had been solemnly agreed on, the liberty of Germany was betrayed, and twelve thousand Englishmen had nearly all perished." — Le Mercure Franfois, xiii. 805. THE FRENCH MATCH. 67 " Now, last of all, by pretence of the Pope's authority, they would impose upon us real alterations and new additions, extra- vagant in themselves, and incompatible with his Majesty's honour and the peace of his kingdom. Do but remember, my most noble Lord, how much your noble and generous proceed- ings in Spain did endear you to the loves and hearts of his Majesty's people, all which you will lose (I beseech your lord- ship to pardon my liberty, proceeding from a fast and sincere friendship), if you give way in this. The world will now con- clude it was nothing but a particular passion and animosity, and not care of the public, which excited you thereunto. Nothing can more justify and advantage Digby, than the admission of the last of these new conditions, which carry with them more prejudice and dishonour than the conditions of the Spanish treaty, which might seem out of necessity to be extorted, the Prince's precious person being in their hands ; but now, there being no such necessity, the envy will be wholly cast upon the negotiators. I beseech your lordship to give your humble, faithful servant, who hath made a league offensive and defensive with your friendship, leave to assure you, that you will find little faith or fast friendship in any but the true British hearts ; much less, in these inconstant and perfidious monsters, who will make little scruple to ruin their best friends, so as they may not fail to compass their ends." In the treaty, it is specified that " the children of the future marriage shall be brought up by their mother till the age of thirteen years."* This would have made an English Protest- * The Dutch, and doubtless, Protestant Editor of De Brienne's Memoirs, not without reason, seems astonished at this article, as he finds it given by De Brienne. *' James the First," he says, "here betrayed the cause of his reUgion, and thus drew on his posterity all their calamities." It must be confessed that Hume was some- what perplexed on this discovery ; but his philosophical genius, in my opinion, as I shall shortly show, has struck into the right vein. He says, " It can scarce be questioned, but this article, which has so odd an appearance, was inserted only to amuse the Pope, and was never intended by either party to be executed." Dr. Lingard has vaguely stated that " the children should remain under the Queen's care until they were thirteen years old." But should not our historian have noticed the sense in which the Catholics accepted this article 1 The words in Rymer are more precise. Les enfans seront nourris et eleves apres de ma dite dame Reyne. With the Catholics it was a stipulation for the religion of the children. It is always so asserted by one of the negotiators, De Brienne, in his Memoirs, vol. i.^ f2 68 SECRET HISTORY OF ant's cheek tingle with indignation ; yet, after having extorted this impracticable concession from the British Cabinet, when the dispensation was finally sent, it came clogged with a clause, 80 insurmountable, that even James or Charles, with all their facility, dared not perform it. It was nothing less than a Catholic emancipation, in the form of a treaty with the Roman Pontiff, to be sanctioned by an oath of the English sovereigns, which violated the fundamental laws of our Constitution. Although the Gallican Church, in some respect, has freed herself from the Papal omnipotence, yet in the affairs of religion, and on points of doctrine, her enslaved intellect is still fettered by its holy chains. Even De Brienne confesses as a plea for these repeated tergiversations, that they usually arose from Rome. " There," he says, " the least matters are not easily obtained, and on this occasion they had raised many difficulties to follow up the intentions of the King, because we did not disclose the acts which we had passed with England, and that we were satisfied with the concession of his Britannic Majesty." This was a dilemma which seemed inextricable ; but when affairs are inextricable, statesmen discover expedients. The hand of the English monarch was paralysed, he dared not put his sig- nature, and to proffer his oath to Antichrist might have raised a general revolt in his three kingdoms. To satisfy the conscience or the dignity of the Pontiff, observes the acute commentator on " Bassompierre's Memoirs," a mezzo termine was contrived; and the French monarch engaged on the part of the King of England for those points in which the latter could not, or dared not, treat directly and openly with the Pope. To such miserable shifts were the greatest monarchs of the world driven by a power which they disavowed in terms, resisted in substance, and sub^ mittcd to in form.* p. 188, and it is confirmed by Pere Griffet in his excellent History of Louis the Thirteenth, vol. xiii., p. 422. " Cc quHl y a d'ttonnant, c*est qu'ils nc faisoicnt pas tant de diffiadt^sur V article qui rcgardoitV education descvfans dans la religion Catkolique jusques a Vage de douze ans, qui dcvoit ce semhle leur paroitre d'une si grande impor- tance.** Tlie reader has found here, at page 114, the self-congratulations of the Mercure, on the Cardinal's success in obtaining thirteen years instead of ten, for the education of the children as Catholics. * Memoirs of the Embassy of the Marshal de Bassompierre to the Court of England in 1626. Translated with Notes. 8 vo. 1819. I recollect ho volume of the THE FRENCH MATCH. 69 In politics too much has been conceded to forms, which only adds to the insincerity of the parties. By this hollow etiquette, this veil that never hid what it covered, have the weak been flattered by the potent ! Statesmen sometimes have to act very ridiculous parts, and it is not strange that their views should be so often misconstrued by the people, and adroitly pointed against themselves, by the artifices of an opposing party. At length the Duke de Chevreuse, as proxy, espoused, in the name of the King of England, for the Prince had now become the Sovereign, Madame Henrietta Maria. In the Mercm^e Franqois, the splendid ceremony, and the public rejoicings from Paris to Amiens, occupy a moveable page of festivals, processions, and triumphal arches. All the magnificence of France was radiant, and the details, from the mantles of violet velvet, spotted ermine, and cloth of beaten gold, to the alle- gorical entrances into towns, the comfits from the mouths of Dragons, or the verses from Sibyls or Muses, with an exhibition of all the daughters of Prance who had been Queens of England, represented as so many different virtues, were all unquestionably to the taste of Louis the Thirteenth, who perhaps edited, with particular care, the splendid chronicle in this Book of Kings. A circumstance in the marriage-ceremony was remarkable. Although the Prench had obstinately persisted, during their negotiation, in requiring a secret article respecting the educa- tion of the children of the marriage, under their Eoman Catholic mother, yet when mass was performed at Notre Dame, with great delicacy they permitted the Duke de Chevreuse, as repre- sentative of the English monarch, to withdraw from the mass, and accompany the two English ambassadors, who were not present during its celebration ; but who returned to the French monarch to take their rank in the procession, the instant it was concluded. Scarcely had the marriage ceremony closed, when to the size in our historical literature more desirable for the general reader. The varied information contained in the notes is perpetually enUvened by a searching spirit, which strikes at the results of historical evidence, deducing inferences, and detecting nice discriminations, such as a mind practised in the business of life, and drawing from its own experience, could alone discover, and which prove that the writer has been conversant with Courts more modern than those of the historical antiquary. The Editor is the Right Hon. John Wilson Croker. 70 SECilET HISTORY OF astonisliment of the whole Court, the unexpected arrival was announced of the Duke of Buckingham, accompanied by a train of English gentlemen. The hostile Count De Brienne observes, "This Enghshman appeared to the Court to have his head filled with chimeras that broke out in his conversation ; he pressed for the departure of the Queen of England, and every one earnestly wished for that of the presumptuous stranger." The departure of her Britannic Majesty was delayed by the indis- position of the King, who was desirous of accompanying his sister to Compiegne. Our comet of fortune blazed with intolerable light. Even the severity of the sullen Secretary of State softens, as his reminis- cences sparkle, in describing the singular beauty of his person, the grace of his movements, the strange magnificence of his dress. We hear from our own quarters, of Buckingham's twenty-seven suits, the richest that embroiderj^, lace, silk, velvet, silver, gold and pearls could ornament ; and more parti- cularly of the white uncut velvet, set all over, both suit and cloak, with diamonds, valued at four-score thousand pounds, set off with great diamond buttons, and diamonded feathers. To the women Buckingham seemed a degree above a mortal ; for among the seductions of his gallantries, he practised one pecu- liar to his own fantasy — he had his diamonds tacked so loosely on, that when he willed, some graceful motion would shake off a few — and he obtained all the celebrity he desii-ed from the pickers-up — ^the Dames de la Cour ; whatever any fair hand condescended to lake from the ground, the Duke conferred on her as an unahenable possession. But alas ! his presence at the Court of France was fatal to her who seemed placed beyond the reach of Fate — to Anne of Austria, the Queen of Louis the Thirteenth ; and Buckingham was perhaps the only man who dared to become enamoured of a Queen. The royal lady, too, was one whose pride was to subdue the hearts of distinguished persons ; and who, in Europe, was as distinguished as the magnificent and fascinating English Duke. Buckingham shed tears on the Queen's hand at his departure. Were those drops the melting effusions of his mind, or the burning heat of his senses ? The annals of gallantry, usually THE FEENCH MATCH. 71 SO circumstantial with the French, have preserved a sullen and royal silence. Was the passion of Buckingham refined, as Hume in the calmness of his philosophy would conjecture, who tells us, " that attachment at least of the mind which appears so delicious, and is so dangerous, seems to have been encouraged by the Princess." But the discontent of her royal husband, the rage of the Cardinal, here a double rival to Buckingham, and the covert style of the Secretary of State, indicate the treason. "Had this Princess followed my advice," says De Brienne, (which was to remain at Paris with her sick husband) " she would have received great advantages ; but she preferred the counsels of Madame de Bervay," who probably was not unacquainted with her Majesty's confidential inclinations, nor the promised festivals of every day, which were to make gay the progress to the coast. We fear that Hume is here but an apologist for the French Queen, when we find in the graver historian, Pere Griffet, that " several of the Queen's household were suddenly dismissed, the Marchioness de Vernet, her dame d'atours, and Eibera her physician, as persons who had proved to have been too favourable to the design of the Duke." And farther, when we recollect the reply of Voiture, when her Majesty met him musing in the garden of Buel. " What are you thinking on?" inquired the Queen. "1 am thinking," replied the wit, in impromptu verses, "that if at this instant the Duke of Buckingham should appear before your Majesty, who would lose the day, the Duke, or Pere Vincent?" the Queen's confessor. The mystery of the loves of Anne of Austria and Buckingham is not diminished by a letter of the Earl of Holland to our Duke, in which, among other state affairs, we discover certain hieroglyphics of love — a crown to designate the King of France, a heart the female lover, and an anclior our Lord High Admiral. It appears that the anchor was most urgent to revisit Paris, but the crown continued in its strongest suspicions, and the heart "hath infinite affections." A threat of the young bravadoes of the Court, set on by the crafty Cardinal, that he is not a good Frenchman who would suffer the anchor ever to return from France, might have its effect. " You are the most happy unhappy man alive, for the heart is beyond imagination right, and would do things to 72 ROYAL AND POLITICAL MARRIAGES. destroy her fortune, rather than want satisfaction in her mind. I dare not speak as I would. I tremble to think whether this will find a safe conveyance to you. Do what you will, I dare not advise you — to come is dangerous, not to come is unfor- tunate."— A specimen of love-letters inclosed in the dispatches of ministers of state ! The calamity of Roman Catholic and Protestant Marriages in the royal family, for calamitous they have always proved to be, by exciting the fears and jealousies of the nation, in an age of controversial faiths, was so far from having yet been ascertained, that on the contrary both parties then calculated on mutual advantages from this forced union of opposite interests. The first difficulty lay in the preliminaries; for while one party required so many concessions which could never be conceded, the other, in its perplexity, accommodated matters by promises which could never be performed. It seemed the art of one party to evade what the other at length would abandon; and it appears that, notwithstanding the secret articles of the treaty ostensibly signed, there were others still more secret, which annulled them, as the English Cabinet, in their subsequent discussions and rupture with France, always asserted. Rapin wonders what could induce the English to have acceded to this treaty ; and Mr. Croker, whose enlarged views are those of a statesman, has, in this particular instance, as I think, too easily adopted Rapines suggestion — that it was owing to three causes ;. James the First's avarice, vanity, and indiff*erence to the Protestant religion. Such assumptions too easily pass into history ; and it is as necessary to exercise a critical spirit upon historians themselves, as on the materials with which their liistories are composed. Our honest Huguenot emigrant, influ- enced by the horrors of intolerant Papistry, which once massa- cred the brothers of his faith, and at the moment of his writing had hunted him and his from their hearths — Kapin, a suffering Protestant, adopted the Puritanic prejudice, that, the father and the son were really indiflerent to the religious establishment of their country. Were James and Charles then indifferent to retain their crowns, and did they prefer the private interests of a minority to the universal feeling of the nation ? "VVe have shown that the restitution of the Palatinate was the EOYAL AND POLITICAL MAREIAGES. 73 ceaseless and tormenting burthen of the Spanish negotiation ; and among the last letters still extant, which Charles the First wrote to the Prince, afterwards Charles the Second, may be found a reiterated and solemn charge to obey his mother in all things, saving in religion ; on this head he was to guide himself by the English Bishop (Cousens), and the excellent council which Charles had provided for his son. The governors of Charles the Second, from his infancy, were Protestants. Charles the Second was indeed so flexibly filial, that he appears to have equally obeyed his father and mother, for on the throne he lived a Protestant, and died a Catholic. He probably acquired his E/Oman faith abroad, where every day he experienced the benefits of perpetual absolution. Rapines observation then is merely popular and superficial ; nor perhaps had that diligent historian a mind sufficiently comprehensive of the nature and character of these political marriages ; and much less of the state-reason or policy of the present one. The French marriage with Henrietta Maria was the natural consequence of an entire change in the foreign relations of the English Cabinet. An alliance with France had been resolved on to balance the loss of the other great power ; a marriage would doubly cement the union of interests. Whoever would ascribe it, with Rapin, to "the avarice and vanity" of James, at least must allow a great deal to the political wisdom of his " king- craft," in preferring the potent alliance with France to one with a secondary power, and of secondary powers only consisted the Reformed. What had James acquired by his marriage and alliance with Protestant Denmark ? In war she was but a weak ally, but in her own troubles she hung upon the strength of England. The nature and character of these political marriages in our own history is a subject of some curiosity and importance. Royal marriages with us were long the results of political com- binations, and the contract of marriage was nothing more than a clause in a treaty ; the treaty itself being an act of political co-partnership, framed by all the fears and jealousies of the high-contracting parties. In the wooing of the crowned and conjugal pair, the ambassadors, who were the adroit match- 74 ROYAL AND POLITICAL MARRIAGES. makers, and the grave Ministers of State, who did not forbid the banns, had no other motive than what ItaHan politicians term the Ration di Stato. A daughter or a sister were the victims, if they are to be considered as such, whenever by their means a great political purpose could be obtained. Henry the Eighth enjoined his executors to effectuate a marriage between Edward the Sixth and Mary of Scotland. The Scots, however, being under the influence of French councils, rejected the overture. The Protestants then resolved to bring about an alliance and union by arms; and it was on this occasion that a Scottish nobleman said, " I like the marriage, but fancy not the wooing." In that darling project of Catherine of Medicis, of uniting our Elizabeth with a prince of the royal line of France, when, after the first repulse, it was proposed by the French Court, that the Duke of Alen^on should succeed his brother the Duke of Anjou, and the English ministers seemed as desirous of the arrangement as the French monarch, the King impatiently observed, " You have now only to change the name of my brother, the Duke of Anjou, and insert in its place that of my brother, the Duke of Alen9on, in the articles which were agreed on ; as was extremely well observed to you by my Lord the great Treasurer (Burleigh)." So simple is the style of these plotters of political marriages ! James has suff'ered an animadversion, because when Prince Henry died on the 6th of November, his brother Charles was offered to the Spanish Princess on the 9th. But in political marriages, it appears that not a single post is to be lost. Love neither precedes, nor accompanies, the Hymen of the corps diplomatique, who often waves a smoky torch over the diplomatic treaty of a political marriage. Royal marriages arc a tribute paid to the interests of the State. A Duke of Orleans is selected for a Princess of the House of Mantua, which means that France resolves to maintain her footing in Italy ; or, they are the price of new projects of ambition, and as such they were considered by Napoleon, when he long vacillated between an Austrian or a Russian Arch-duchess, a political marriage on which the fate of Europe revolved ! The potent monarch of Spain condescended to cross the seas to unite himself with an English Queen, and EOYAL AND POLITICAL MAKRIAGES. 75 could afterwards bend the knee to her renowned sister; and because the suppliant but haughty Castilian could not obtain a political marriage^ his unsuccessful wooing was concluded, as usual, by a political war. The double marriage of Louis the Thirteenth with Anne of Austria, the Infanta of Spain, and Madame Elizabeth of France with Philip, Prince of Spain, spread a general alarm among the Protestant states. England and Holland, by means of their respective ambassadors, strained every effort to break off this family alliance. Even some of the French Catholics had approved of the resolution of Henry the Fourth, to avoid a family connexion with the Spanish Court, already too for- midable for the peace of Europe ; but the policy of Mary de Medicis changed the political system after the death of the King. The double political marriage was designed by Spain to maintain the predominance of the House of Austria in Ger- many, and to deprive France of the confidence of her numerous Protestants. It may, however, be a question how far these domestic unions operate upon the public interests of princes, and whether a royal marriage necessarily includes the adoption of the same system of politics. It has been sometimes insisted on that a royal marriage has no connexion with the higher inte- rests of the state ; and that the new brother or the new father are as likely to declare war against each other as against any other sovereign. In the present case, when the Protestants were alarmed at the double marriages of France and Spain, the Constable Lesdiguieres assured the French Protestants, that a prince in espousing his daughter to his neighbour did not espouse his councils, and that the French monarch would never put his kingdom in flames for the pleasure of the Spanish sovereign. This principle of royal conduct seems, however, more plausible than true ; for, however it be disguised, the real design of the two Cabinets at first manifested itself in these royal marriages, though circumstances afterwards occurred, as they did in the case before us, to alter the political position of the royal relatives. A royal marriage must, in general, be considered as the con- firmation, and not the cause, of a particular line of policy. It 70 110 YAL AKD POLITICAL MAIUUAGES. is a public announcement of an alliance, which the supposed interests of the contracting parties have already cemented, and not an union, which is to create interests between the nations, which do not exist. The monstrous union of our Elizabeth with the Dukes of Anjou and Alen9on, made the Puritan, who wrote a book against the French marriages, and lost for it the hand which wrote it, exclaim, that " a daughter of God was united with a son of Antichrist ; " while foreign Catholics said of Charles the First, when that Prince was proposed to the Infanta of Spain, and afterwards to a Princess of France, that it was the abomi- nation of " a Heretic with a Christian ; " and some in England ascribed the calamities of the present reign according to the expression of Hamon ^Estrange, as " an ireful stroke of divine justice, from his Majesty marrying a lady of misbelief." The nature of these royal marriages, indeed, was never com- prehended by the people, either at home, or abroad. The people are occasionally mystified by statesmen, but they are too impatient to inquire how the tricks of political jugglers are performed. Even Charles the Second cheerfully submitted to a grave and tawny Princess of Portugal, repulsive in her person; and we now hold Bombay from this marriage. The overtures and proposals of the conjugal union of Wilham the Third with the daughter of James the Second at the time were unwillingly consented to by the royal parent, and as coldly received by the Prince of Orange, yet how vast the results of this memorable union ! Of such adverse elements has been often compounded the royal alliance of persons whom nature and affection had never brought together ; nor is this natural communication necessary for the designs and the ends of government ; and it may be curious to observe, that such marriages are so strictly political, that whenever it has happened that they have been unex- pectedly broken off, inasmuch as such rupture is the conse- quence of a most contrary change in the policy of both parties, they have usually terminated by a declaration of war. CRITICAL DIFFICULTIES WITH CATHOLIC SUBJECTS. 77 CHAPTER VI. OF THE CRITICAL AND VARIABLE SITUATION OF THE ENGLISH SOVEREIGNS, WITH REGARD TO THEIR ROMAN CATHOLIC SUBJECTS. The difficulties which were insurmountable in the Spanish match, and which were only eluded in the French, lead to the consideration of an important subject. I know of no historian who has yet developed the critical, and often the variable, situation of the sovereigns of England, in regard to their lloman Catholic subjects. Elizabeth was denounced by Romanist and Protestant ; James and Charles, perpetually accused of sacrificing the national cause, were reproached by the Roman Catholics for deception and evasion. To form a just conception of the state of the English Roman Catholics, we must not only view their condition at home, a picture which I have already exhibited, but we must also become acquainted with their external relations with the Continental powers. The secret history of England may be often looked for among the great family of European Governments, and the solution of many a political enigma in our own country may be detected in the policy of foreign cabinets. It is there we find how many paradoxes are only truths unexplained ; how conflicting interests have been forced to unite ; and how consistency of conduct may be developed among the most contradictory schemes. Statesmen have been fascinated by a fond error, in imagining that their closet-intrigues can make permanent incompatible things, which from their very nature cannot stand together; and that the expedients, so ingeniously formed by their mutual deceptions, will avail against the eternal force of principles. In this history, we must not at once leap from the Papistry of Mary to the Protestantism of Elizabeth ; an awful interval lies between, which is lost in the perspective view of the historian. 78 CRITICAL DIFFICULTIES WITH It is asserted that the great change in religion, under Eliza- beth, was carried by six votes, and passed in a single session ; that '' a superstitious " practice (the striking the breast with an exclamation) observ^ed at the elevation of the Host, was abro- gated only by a single vote, and that no greater majority decided on the abolishment of parts of the ceremonial. At first it was announced that no change should take place in religion till Parliament met ! Affairs were best arranged when not put to a lottery of public opinion, which seemed to depend on uncer- tain chance. The term of transubstantiation was saved by a vague description of the elements, by which the Eoraanist was enabled to partake of the Sacrament with the Protestant. Of " the Supremacy in Church and State,'^ assumed by Henry the Eighth, that eternal stumbling-block of Papistry, the bill having long been tossed to and fro in Parliament, Elizabeth softened the oath, as we are told, by her great statesman Walsingham, " Her Majesty not liking to make windows into men's hearts and secret thoughts, except the abundance did overflow into overt acts, impeaching her Majesty's supreme power by main- taining a foreign jurisdiction."* That is, her Majesty wisely resolved to maintain her supremacy, though in the oath " she removed the hardness of the name and appellation of supreme head." In politics the name is often yielded while the thing is preserved. The Queen dreaded what she foresaw would occur, contro- versies and contentions ; and to prevent these, she inhibited all preaching, both by Papist and Protestant. She even expressed her displeasure when the late exiles of Protestantism attempted to exercise their ministry — and, as honest Strypc truly observes, " thus even and impartially did the State carry it to both parties." During forty years' continuance, every project was tried to reconcile the Papist to what was called " the new Religion," and in that dawn of religious controversy great results were expected from " the force of truth." But a Protestant writer has told us, that, by this means, many true Protestants were lost.f On the accession of Elizabeth, the Romanists were so nume- rous, that one of their English historians asserts that they • Cabala, p. 407. t Hamon TEstrangc, « The Observator Observed," p. 28. CATHOLIC SUBJECTS. 79 formed two-tliirds of the nation. Possibly at a particular period they might have reached to this number, for the great body of the people were always to be reconverted to the religion of their new sovereign, and the multitude, stupified by the changeful times, seem to have passed as easily from the accom- modating Protestantism of "the child-king," to the heated papistry of the bigot Mary, as to the mingled settlement of the virgin reign. Elizabeth herself, half Protestant and half Catholic, was the true representative of her own people. She deemed it advisable, that a Roman Catholic bishop should place the crown on her head, and in her royal councils. Catholics were mixed with anti-Catholics. The Queen, from the first, looked forward to that conformity in the national religion, which to enforce afterwards, caused the despair of our statesmen, and the unhappiness of the people. The Romanist still entered the same church with the new religionist. Elizabeth, herself a lover of stately magnificence, still lingered amidst the grandeurs of the pontifical rites and ceremonies. Her feminine eye had been allured by the snowy alb, the flowing amice, and the gorgeous stole, and her imagi- nation had yielded to the sculpture and the painting — to her, yet hallowed accessories to devotion ! A crucifix, pale in the light of tapers, consecrated her chapel, as long as it was — legal, and it was some time before the Queen would consent to degrade the Image or the Picture into " superstition " — by Act of Par- liament ! So obscure, so cautious, and so undetermined were the first steps to withdraw from the ancient Papistical customs, that Elizabeth would not forgive a bishop for marrying ; and auricular confession, however condemned as a point of Popery, was still adhered to by many. Bishop Andrews would loiter in the aisles of PauFs to afl'ord his spiritual comfort to the unburtheners of their conscience.* But Elizabeth had to rule over those terrible men with all their dark hatreds — political theologists ; many of whom were Papists, or Puritans, as Walsingham expresses it, " not so much in conscience as in faction." * This last remains of Popery may still be traced among us; for since the days of our Eighth Henry, the place of Confessor to the royal household has never been abolished. 80 " CRITICAL DIFFICULTIES WITH The English exiles, who had flown to the Reformed of Switzer- land during the Marian persecution, many of whom had imbibed the republican notions of the petty Presbytery of Geneva, were now urging the Queen to what they called "a thorough reform- ation," a favourite term with all rising parties, but always ambiguous ; and, in the present instance, most perilous to the balancing and cautious wisdom of the royal councils. At that crisis, between Romanism and Protestantism, England might have bled through all her veins; a spirit more exterminating than that of her civil wars, was on the watch to be let loose among the people ; for a war of religion breathes a more terrible inspiration than the decaying interests of political parties, whose contests are but temporary, and whose passions at least are mortal. What was passing among the people at these critical times, we gather from the letters of Bishop Jewell, the famous author of " The Apology for the Church of England." This venerable Protestant was so disgusted at the lenient measures pursued by the Queen, and so dubious of the awful issue, that in despair he threatened to return to his former exUe at Zurich. He did not find our " insular " people at first so Protestant as he had imagined ; the clergy, for the most part, were Papistical, and the brutish and indifferent multitude had not yet had sufficient time to recover from a reign of terror ; but the people remain always the people, and their torpid natures are ever to be acted on by some happy artifice. A petty incident in the great history of the Reformation seems to have accelerated its im- pulse among the humbler classes of society. Psalm-singing, which had already spread with such popular success in Switzer- land, was introduced into our churches; and when three or four hundred persons joined in chorus, the new religion excited more sympathy ; at length, when " the boys in the street spat upon the priests," Jewell puts off his return to Zurich, and exults in the improved state of the Reformation. But when the " monuments of antiquity," were defaced, and the parish crucifix was dragged by those who had worshipped before it, to kindle a new fire in Smithficld, in vengeful memory for other fires which had there been lit; though Elizabeth punished the rioters, yet then many Romanists took a sad CATHOLIC SUBJECTS. Bl farewell of their fatlier-land^the horror of heresy was gathering round. Divided power was scorned equally by the implacable haughtiness of the Roman PontiflP, aijid the vindictive spirit of his former victims. The Romanist and the Reformed could only meet for mutual annihilation. Now rolled the thunders of the Vatican. Pius the Fifth, blessed with the spirit of St. Dominic, the great Extirpator of Heresy, anathematised the English Queen, and dehvered her dominions to Mary of Scotland. The joyful martyr, who in open day affixed the Bull of Excommunication at the gate of the Bishop of London, was executed as an English traitor. '^A pious conspiracy,^^ as the Catholic historian terms an attempted insurrection in the North, was to have beeji aided by the Spaniards of Alva in the Netherlands. Whenever a party rushes to an extremity, the opposite interest either sinks in its weakness, or establishes itself in its strength. This very rebel- lion partly purged the ill-humours of the realm, observed the statesman, Walsingham. The Bishop of Rome now discovered his inept infallibility, and perhaps regretted his iinpoHtic impa- tience. In order to repair the irreparable breach, both himself and his successors granted a dispensation to their English Romanists, to allow them to show outward obedience to the Queen — till a happier opportunity ! But the Catholic politics and the Catholic faith of Rome had betrayed their immutable nature. Thus, a single blow for ever separated Englishmen from Englishn^en : Papist and Protestant now became distinctive names. In the fashion of that day, the rising religion called themselves, in glory, " Gospellers," and their adversaries, in contempt, " Papelins." In the ascending scale of the odium theologicum, the more odious designation of Recusant at length branded the Romanist ; though it had anciently been confined to those disturbers of the public repose, who refused to acknow- ledge all legitimate authority. The papal supremacy was treason against the native sovereign. The anathema of Rome deprived the English Queen of the loyalty of a considerable part of her subjects, while it inflamed the passions of a new party, who themselves had become pro- testers against " the good Protestants of Elizabeth," as the first VOL. I. G 82 CRITICAL DIFFICULTIES WITH moderate Reformers attached to the hierarchy were afterwards distinguished in the succeeding reign. At this crisis, the tem- pered wisdom of the Queen saved the nation. She maintained her shaken throne, as a Queen of Protestants. Thus early sprung the critical difficulties of our sovereigns. Now religion was running into factions, conscience inspiring acts of treason ; and the missionaiy of Rome, or the Presbyter of Geneva, the Jesuit, or the Mar-Prelate, were fired by the same ambition of predominance. Roman Catholic and Pro- testant writers are still discussing whether the victims of the State under Elizabeth and James perished as martyrs for their faith, or as traitors to the Government ; and the same difficult distinction occurs in the history of Catholic France. Louis the Thirteenth insisted that he did not war with and persecute the French Reformed for their religion as they imagined, but for their rebellion. It is the philosopher alone, who has discovered that monster in politics, whose hermaphrodite condition he has called "political religionism.''* In the darkness of the Court of Rome, one prolonged dream hovered about the Tiara — it was the conquest of England by invasion ; or a scheme more consonant to the subtile genius of Italian policy — the rule over England by intrigue. Clement the Eighth, unlike the profound Sixtus the Fifth, imagined that there was no insurmountable difficulty to the vicegerent of Heaven gathering once more his Annates in the lost island. The busy spirits of Cardinal Allen, of Father Parsons, and other expatriated Romanists, were most active after the failure of the Spanish Armada, and still later, when the Father, one of the most political heads in Europe, ineffectually laboured to secure James on the Roman side. After the failure of the invasion, it was the great object of Father Parsons and his party to exclude James from the English crown in favour of the Infanta of Spain or the Duke of Parma. This great political Jesuit repeatedly declared, that the possession of the throne was a matter of perfect indifference, provided that the possessor were a Catholic — leaving to the princes who were interested in * See an article on that subject in the second series of Curiosities of Literature, vol. ii. CATHOLIC SUBJECTS. 83 the settlement of this crown, to appoint among themselves the English sovereign.* This settlement, however, could not have been accomplished with all the facility which in their Papal fascination was imagined by these able English agents of the Court of Rome. The verse of Virgil had separated the isle of Britain from the world, when Rome, as it seemed to the Roman, was the whole universe ; but in the vast revolutions of time the solitary island had become the arbitrator of dominion. The two potent mo- narchies of Spain and France, amid their rival jealousies, courted the insular sovereign as their mistress; and the alliance of England was a casting weight in the government of the world. By its locality, as much as by the power of its ruler, England had protected Europe from the universal monarchy of Spain, as long afterwards Anne did from the universal monarchy of France ; a glorious office, the inheritance of the English nation, whose title, as the protector of the freedom of Europe, has been confirmed by the great captain of our days. Yet, with all our physical force, and all the wisdom of our councils, which extorted the admiration of that great statesman. Cardinal d'Ossat;t which were confessed by the Spanish secre- tary of state, Antonio Perez; J and admitted by the official writer in the Mercure Franpais ; § in our own country the * The Rev. Charles Plowden, p. 151, on Berington's Panzani. See for a further account of Father Parsons, Amenities of Literature, on ** the First Jesuits in England. " t Cardinal d'Ossat, when he saw James the First quietly ascend the English throne, without the interposition of foreign powers, which they flattered themselves the English would have called in on this occasion, writes, " The people of this island have shown that thoy know how to settle their own affairs, and that in the surest way ; and those out of doors {ceux de dehors) are very much mistaken in their designs and their hopes ; particularly the Spaniards," adds our French ambassador, " who, though most vexed at this event, will be among the first to get over the King of Scotland on their side, if you do not prevent it." — Lettres, vol. v. 254. X Antonio Perez, in sending a book to the Earl of Essex, in a Latin letter, alluding to a passage in that volume, observed, " What is here said of the equi- librium of France and Spain, and of England being the balancer of Europe, while those two kingdoms are the scales, is not to be lightly treated by any prudent observer." The original may be found in Obras de Antonio Perez, p. 693. § Mercure Fran9ais, 1626, p. 891. " The most powerful Crown in Christendom, after those of France and Spain, is that of Great Britain ; and it is indeed of such G 2 84 CRITICAL DIFFICULTIES WITH Catholic interest was still active, and the English Romanists were still looking to their allies on the Continent. A knowledge of the secret policy of the Court of Rome we acquire from a conversation of the French ambassador, Cardinal d'Ossat, with the Pope, Clement the Eighth. The Frenchman, dreading the subjugation of England by Spain, brought for- wards all the difficulties of a projected invasion, reminding his Holiness of the former discomfiture of the Spaniards. To quiet the alarm of the French ambassador, his Holiness opened a dif- ferent project; and to allay the rival jealousies of the two powerful monarchies, Clement the Eighth proposed that a third monarch should be placed on the English throne, who should be their mutual friend. Should this arrangement fail, a parti- tion of England between France and Spain would equally serve the purpose, as his Holiness exemplified by that partition of Naples which the combined nations had effectuated in the time of Louis the Twelfth.* We have witnessed, in our own times, this political artifice of partitioning a great kingdom, and sacri- ficing the independence of one nation to the coalition of injustice and rapacity. The machinations of the Papal Cabinet were more numerous than appear on public records. Mary of Scotland was long the sustaining hope of France, of Spain, and of Rome; and her political immolation was a martyrdom of Catholicism. Tn the Roman scheme of subjugation, they had seated on the throne of England the phantom of an Italian cardinal, who by a dispen- sation was to marry the hapless Arabella Stuart. They con- tinued to dispute even the claims of the son of Mary to the English crown. A pope had also fixed on one of his courtiers to be the King of Ireland. Such were the dreams of the Roman Pontiff! The day that the royal anathema was nailed on the Episcopal gate at London, may serve as the date for a new ajra in modern history — the establishment of the civil liberties of Europe ; and the martyred slave of passive obedience, who perished as an English traitor, sealed with his blood the emancipation of his consequence, that it can give a predominance to either of those two Crowns to which it may choose to unite itself, to the great prejudice of the other." ♦ Cardinal d'Ossat's Lettres, ii. 363. CATHOLIC SUBJECTS. 85 fellow-countrymen from the supremacy and tlie despotism of Rome. From that day, England was politically separated from her potent neighbours ; and this novel state of affairs was produc- tive of some phenomena in history which have not always admitted of explanation. The great monarchies of Europe were Papistical, and the proscribed sovereign of England had to open new principles of conduct — to raise up new interests — and while on the Continent the balance of power long preponderated against the advocates of civil and religious freedom, the policy of England was to ally herself with the secondary governments of the Christian world, and to sustain the weakness of the Reformed, who flew for aid to the only formidable power in Europe who could be their protector. Although the distinctive titles were not yet assumed, which in the progress of time were adopted ; the secret springs which now were moving the Cabinets of Europe, and which were to raise such continued intrigues — act by such mysterious motives — and show themselves by such contradictory measures, at home as well as abroad, were the Roman Catholic and the Protes- tant Cause. We long stood alone in Europe, and often the object of the systematic intrigues of the Papal Court. In a confidential letter, which was lately read at the Society of Antiquaries, Lord Leicester, in the reign of Elizabeth, describing the state of public affairs, impresses the urgent necessity of a close and common union among themselves ; for at this moment they stood unconnected vv ith any one of the great Continental powers, who are all Catholics. The whole letter offers a striking evi- dence of the unsettled state of home affairs ; and the solitary existence of England, left to herself among the great govern- ments of Europe. In England the Catholic interest was as an under-current, working its dark and silent passage against the mightier stream ; and abroad the Protestant cause was at times in the most imminent peril. What could be the consequence of this cruel condition, which placed our friends among their enemies, and held our enemies within ourselves ? The state policy of the 86 CRITICAL DIFFICULTIES WITH English Cabinet, and of the Cabinets of the Romanists, became uniform, for it consisted in secretly aiding their own parties in foreign lands. The Papal Court, and its allies of France and of Spain, fostered the vain hopes of, or silently acquiesced in, the conspiracies against heretical princes by their own Catholic subjects. On our side, we had to sustain the minority of man- kind in Europe against their masters. This perpetual reaction throughout Europe between Catholics and Protestants may be often traced in our own history ; yet the true springs of action were rarely revealed to contemporaries, although by some they seem to have been obscurely surmised. Old Camden observed, that the Papists were ever most busied in fermenting divisions at home whenever the nation was attacked from abroad. In this unhappy condition, long were the Papists under the government of the Reformed, and the Protestants in the domi- nion of the Catholic, dangerous subjects. History abounds with their intrigues, their conspiracies, and their mutual perse- cutions. From the days of Elizabeth we had to aid, openly or covertly, the oppressed or the rebellious Protestants of France ; and that infant republic in the Spanish Netherlands, whose glorious emancipation forms one of the most interesting revolu- tions in modern history. In a large correspondence which I have turned over of Charles the Ninth of France with his ambas- sador at London, I discovered reiterated complaints of the insidious conduct of our Elizabeth, who, at the moment she was professing the most sisterly love, was in fact secretly aiding the French Huguenots; but it must also be confessed, that Charles, on his side, was not more innocent ; for his close and secret correspondence with the Scotch, by his active agents, might have furnished an ample recrimination to the English Queen. The same conduct may be ol)«erved in the poHtical relations of England and Spain. In 1585, while we were yet at peace with that potent monarchy, Philip was actively foment- ing the insurrection in Ireland, and Elizabeth not less earnestly assisting in the formation of a republic in the Spanish Nether- lands. The political system of aiding Protestants who were the subjects of a foreign prince, became a case of conscience with the pacific and casuistical James the First, with whose high notions of divine right ill accorded an alliance with insur- CATHOLIC SUBJECTS. 87 gents or rebels. It was a question with him_, " How far a Christian and Protestant king may concur to assist his neigh- bours to shake oflf their obedience to their own sovereign ?" In what manner this dehcate point was resolved by the casuistry of Archbishop Abbot is not material ; the ministers of James, or the gunpowder of the Catholics^ might have speedily settled this case of conscience. Charles the First, who entered into a bolder system of politics than his father, eagerly adopted the cause of the Duke of Rohan at the head of the Huguenots of France. This indeed was an English and a Protestant interest ; but it provoked a potent enemy. This interference of the English sovereign in the civil wars of France was afterwards avenged by the great and implacable Cardinal, who, patient and watchful through a series of fifteen years, was silently active in his dark intrigues with the Scots, till he worked them into open revolt ; — and the vengeance of this great statesman was at least a secondary cause of the destruction of Charles the First. The open scene in which the Catholic and Protes- tant interests assumed a palpable form, was the memorable war which so long disturbed Europe with the groans of Germany. It was in one continued battle of thirty years, — such these awful and protracted conflicts may be deemed, — that the Evangelical Union finally liberated itself from the Catholic League ; — for by these undisguised names they are recognised in history. It was, however, by a fortunate accident, the state policy of France, and its jealousies and fears of the House of Austria, that the foreign Reformed saved their independence ; as formerly in their outset, it is considered that Charles the Fifth, from a similar political je?^Jousy of the power of his own German princes, to balance contending interests, silently acquiesced in the growth of his heretics. The Emperor spared the monk Luther from the seduction of a cardinaFs purple. France, who had ever been the persecutor of the Reformed, now, to keep down Austria and to wrestle with Spain, raised up an inter- mediate power, by confederating with the Protestant princes. The councils of her statesmen were allowed to prevail over those of her ecclesiastics. Kings are more tender of their sovereignty than of their religion. For France, the predominance of Aus- tria or Spain was an immediate danger ; but points of faith may 88 CRITICAL DIFFICULTIES WITH be safely adjourned. The security of empire would necessarily include the security of religion. Had France confederated with the other great Catholic powers, the Reformation, and with it the cause of political independence and civil freedom, had possibly sunk into an obscure schism. Spain and Italy have shown the astonished world how human opinion can be walled out by the frontiers of a spurious faith. The foreign Reformed might have been left without a single independent State, and without a sanctuary for refuge, save the solitary island to which they would in vain have turned their eyes. Thus, the Protestants owe their political existence pos- sibly to the aid of that France, which afterwards expelled her children of heresy from their hearths. Those only who have read the letters of the times can form any adequate notion of the agonising and universal interest which pervaded the English people at every advance or retreat of the Austrian Tilly, the Danish Christern, and the Swedish Gustavus — the fate of Protestantism, in the battle of Lutzen, hung on the thread of victory; but the victory itself brought no consolation for the loss of " the Liberator and Deliverer of Germany,'^ for the fears of the Reformed survived their victory many succeeding years. At this period, the critical difficulties of our sovereign arose from two causes. First, from the refusal of the English Roman- ists to take the oath of allegiance to their native sovereign — and, secondly, from the vacillating conduct of the English monarchs in their occasional suspension, or occasional enforce- ment of the utmost severity of the penal laws against the Catholics. The Pope who succeeded the excommunicator of Elizabeth, guided by the same invariable principle, admonished his Eng- lish flock to refuse the oath of allegiance to lier successor — " for the salvation of their souls." Here many affected to treat this brief lightly, as not emanating from his own will, — but a second ratified the irrevocable fiat ; and those who had taken the oath of allegiance were held infamous by their own party. This conduct of Paul the Fifth opened a source of misery to the English Romanists, and to their sovereigns. Charles the First conceded to his Catholics that he would not press their CATHOLIC SUBJECTS. 89 acknowledgment of liim as supreme head of the Ecclesiastical state, but this monarch could never be convinced that his English Catholics should refuse that oath of allegiance, which merely bound the subject to his sovereign ; it was a pledge for civil, and not for religious purposes. But in the spiritual government, the monarchy of the earth was not the least of its prerogatives. The oath of allegiance, which had originated in the gunpowder plot, necessarily included an unequivocal dis- vowal of the deposing power of the Pope; an inviolable doctrine bound up with the Papacy, by which " the Servant of the Servants of God^^ remained the real, though not the ostensible, sovereign of his English slaves. Hence all the sufferings of the Romanists of England ! When- ever it became necessary to tender the oath of allegiance, and whenever it was conscientiously refused, the consequence, as a Catholic feelingly observed, was " worse than excommunica- tion." Of such undefinable horror is composed a premunire which they incurred. Pursuivants, or King's Messengers, might at all times enter the abodes of Catholics ; children might seize on the property of their parents ; all the charities of life were denied the proscribed Papist. The E-omanists in the days of Charles the First were divided in opinion respecting the oath of allegiance; some offering vague arguments and subtile corollaries, which tended to sepa- rate the temporal from the spiritual dominion of the Roman Pontiff; but what seemed perfect logic at London, was rank heresy at Rome. The great body of the Romanists in England disdained the subterfuge. Panzani sympathising with the Eng- lish monarch, whose forbearance he acknowledged, and com- passionating his brothers, whose interminable sufferings he foresaw, suggested a conciliatory modification of the oath of allegiance. This enlightened, at least this humane, agent of the Romish see, was sentenced to eternal silence, and was soon recalled by his Court. Such is the immutable despotism of the Papacy ! and fervent as we are at this day to alleviate these sufferings of our fellow-countrymen, have we found that these cruel exigencies form but a vanished tale ? The insurmountable difficulties seem still to be lying before us. Like the hero of antiquity we 90 CRITICAL DIFFICULTIES WITH are combating in darkness, and against an Immortal.* We have witnessed, but yesterday, the principles and the conduct of the two parties among the English Romanists; — the one, wholly papal from ancient days, have surrendered to the chair of St. Peter the heavens and the earth ; the other would throw into speculative doubt the secular jurisdiction of their spiritual sovereign. We have seen how, in their attempts to win over their brothers, they have cast themselves into inextricable con- fusion ; a protestation drawn up by their own hand, with some names subscribed and deposited in our national library, has only encountered other protests ; has been refused signatures, and the faithless instrument has even been called for by some to retract their own subscriptions.f It is remarkable that these two parties of Romanists are nowhere to be discovered, but among Protestants. It is in a land of Protestants, that the Romanist elevates his tone, advo- cates the freedom of mankind, and eloquently cries for toleration. James the Second, who suffered the martyrdom of a kingdom for his Romish creed, eagerly sought to remove all tests from the Dissenters ; J but in a land of Romanists, the soil has been kept sacred from polluters. § Toleration is a term which the * A Jesuit inclining to the liberal feelings of Pauzaui, and therefore in odium with the Society, Father Blackloe (or Mr. White) has expressed himself with tlxe utmost force of words, on the Pope's infallibility. " It were a less crime to violate a maid upon an altar, than to settle amongst us the belief of the Pope's infallibility." Our Jesuit has branded the doctrine of opu8 operatum with the censure of pagan superstition, hypocritical witchcraft. Fmi-her he writes, *• Mr. Montague and others are sending to Rome for his Holiness's Bulls, to beat English calves." He tells Sir Kenelm Digby what doubtless he would still have repeated : « Our clergy are fools f not worth the pains you take for them ; they will never dare to act without a Breve from Rome J** t This chapter was written in 1 828, before the Act for the Emancipation of the Roman Catholics had passed the British Legislature. X When James the Second put out a declaration for liberty of conscience, in which he was sure that all Nonconformists would join with him, Baron Wallop, famous for his repartees, said, " All this is but scaffolding ; he intends to build another House (Popery), and when that House is built, he will take down his scaffold." — Dr. H. Sampson's Diary, MS. § It is rather a curious fact, that the Roman Catholics themselves have been alarmed at the tyranny which the Protestants would exercise over them, as much as the Protestants liave been frightened at their persecutors. Guy Patin has con- jured up tliis phantom of dreaded retribution. " All the Huguenots of Europe will CATHOLIC SUBJECTS. 9l very Roman Catholic lexicograpliers never admitted into their dictionaries, and which they dare not explain.* As Charles the First only required from the Romanists a political or civil oath of allegiance as their sovereign, in refusing this, they incapacitated themselves from becoming his subjects. The monarch and his cabinet were, therefore, anxiously con- certing measures with his party, and protecting these Roman Catholics. Both sides were straining to reconcile the most repulsive difficulties. We are now to open some extraordinary incidents which seemed equally inexplicable and alarming to contemporaries, and which many still consider as no doubtful evidence of the concealed disposition to Popery of Charles the First. The celebrity of the Jesuits, and the favouritism they enjoyed with the Roman Pontiff, had awakened the complaints and jealousies of the secular priests : and between the Jesuits and their foreign principles, and these priests of English birth, who, though they were rigid Roman Catholics, cherished the feelings of Englishmen, existed irreconcilable hatreds. The hopeless reunion of the two churches, the real source of all Jameses compliances and arts, was still the fatal seduction of the ministers of Charles. Like James, Laud would probably have acknowledged the Church of Rome to be the mother- church, provided she would have owned her daughter. The loyalty and allegiance of his own Catholics only was required by the sovereign. What else could he want from the Court of Rome ? This reunion was often discussed, and great indulgences were granted to the pacifying priests. The Queen^s confessor. Father Philip, was for softening and smoothing, and even altering some one day agree together, and occasion a general revolt under the name of Religion ; particularly whenever they shall have for their chief an enterprising genius like that of the King of Sweden — Charles the Twelfth. If these people get the upper hand of us, they will treat us savagely, very different from what we do them. They will not suffer us to hold our mass. The Huguenots are dangerous politicians, as has been lately shown in England and in France." Such at least was the opinion of that day. * See the last edition of the Dictionnaire de Trevoux^ 1771 — " Tolerance is a word getting into use. It is the weak who raise such outcries for Toleration." — Curiosities of Literature, second series, ii. 397. 92 CEITICAL DIFFICULTIES WITH insurmountable points; Panzani was desirous of assisting in this work of amity ; and on this system of reconciliation several books were published by the priests. Charles had long been prepared to trust to this chimerical project; for James was disposed to treat some of the Roman doctrines — their transubstantiation, invocation of saints, and tenets of similar concoction, merely as " scholastic questions," as he termed them in one of his speeches. But the whole fabric of Roman superstitions stands, as it were, like witchcraft ; and would the Thaumaturgus throw open his mystical bulwarks, that the creeping spirit of Protest- antism might, with a Judas-kiss, plant its revolutionary standard there ? Charles the First was particularly pleased with a work of Franciscus k Sancta Clara, a Franciscan friar, alias Father Davenport : it was designed to bend the Roman Catholic system as nearly as it could to the Protestant. But, however it gratified the English monarch, at Rome it was immediately condemned, and the writer summoned to appear before a tribunal, where to appear is to be guilty. Father Philip incessantly interceded with the Papal Cabinet to forbear rigorous proceedings against Davenport, who, while he was a favourite with the English Court and the learned, at the same time professed perfect obedience to the Papal decisions. The book was condemned, but the censure was not published, and the writer's excuse of personal infirmity was accepted for the journey to Rome. But what the intolerant genius of Rome deemed of the ten- dency of this work, so grateful to Charles and Laud, appears in one of those numerous passages in the manuscript copy of Panzani's Memoirs, which the editor has suppressed in the printed volume. " This work in Rome was thought very dan- gerous, because it laboured to accord together the same English schismatical Church with the Roman Catholic ; that is to say. Hell with Heaven ; or rather, as the English Catholics used to say, the author would join together Christ with Luther." Another edition came forth. The Jesuits, enraged at this new offence, instantly published the censure it lay under at Rome. Davenport apologised, declaring that the new edition had appeared without his consent, and submitted himself entirely to the decision of his Holiness. However, the Franciscan would CATHOLIC SUBJECTS. 93 not trust himself with his Italian sovereign, while he reposed under the protection of his English monarch. The fact, however, of the condemnation of the book could no longer be concealed from the King, while another work by Father Courtenay, which Rome had highly approved, asserted the Pope^s deposing power. Charles was so deeply irritated, that Panzani found that it was scarcely in the Queen's power to pacify the English monarch respecting these artful proceedings of the Roman Pontiff. To me it is evident, although I do not find the fact noticed by former historians, that Government secretly patronised these English priests, who in this country were assiduously employed in emancipating the Roman Catholics from their temporal slavery to the Court of Rome. These priests looked up to the English Court for protection from their implacable enemies the Jesuits.* An extraordinary incident occurred, which at the time alarmed the English public, and apparently sanctioned the prevalent notion of Charleses devotion to Rome. In the prison of the Clink, several priests had long found an asylum. Some who had been condemned to imprisonment for the space of sixteen years (since the gunpowder treason), and had been discharged more than seven years, still voluntarily remained in prison. By some officious informer, the Marshal of Middlesex was urged to obtain a warrant from the Attorney- General to search the Clink, *' to seize all Popish and super- stitious matters." A very extraordinary scene was now exhibited. The Marshal discovered a number of priests who were attended by men and women servants. One Father Preston occupied a range of three or four apartments, part of the Bishop of Win- chester's house, forming a large library, " supposed to be worth two thousand pounds at least," and described " with shelves like a bookseller's shop." There he found also altars ready furnished for mass, rich crucifixes, chalices of silver and of gold, bags of money unopened, and abundance of manuscripts. In the * See two letters of Father Leander to the Secretary of Windebank, descriptive of their situation. — Clarendon State Papers, i. 106—128. 94 CRITICAL DIFFICULTIES WITH apartments of one Father Cannon, among similar things, par- ticularly " his holy water, which he instantly cast out into the chimney," there was a small collection of pictures, a crucifixion, a Magdalen, all of high price. What seemed remarkable, there were pictures of Queen Elizabeth, King James, and King Charles — " the taking of the pictures did exceedingly move the priests to impatience." There was a portrait of an old priest, named Collington, of whom Cannon affirmed, in his scoffing manner, "that that man's beard had done King James more hurt than an army of ten thousand men could have done." Other chambers were stored with similar objects, abundance of books, great wealth, boxes of oil for extreme unction, " much trash with plenty of church stuff." On the first assault of the Marshal, the priests were melan- choly and thoughtful; and while the Marshal was so busily occupied in locking up the apartments, or in breaking into them, the priests seemed only anxious to convey a notice of their situation to the Archbishop ; and when they heard that their message had reached his Grace, they suddenly expressed their joy, that now nothing would be suffered to be removed away. " And it came to pass accordingly," says the Marshal in his report. " For having locked up stores of wealth in various apartments, and while we were in full search in the third chamber, a countermand was brought from the Archbishop and the Attorney-General, and the Marshal and his men forbidden to take away as much as a paper."* This scene is somewhat strange, and exhibits several myste- rious circumstances. It is evident, whoever these English priests might be, and there were others in the same predicament in other prisons, that they considered themselves tenants for life. They accepted even a voluntary imprisonment ; they turned their prison into a monastery, and their labours were their studies — their large libraries, their catalogues of books priced, their great wealth, their rich church-ornaments, and every object about them, indi- cated that they were neither obscure nor forgotten. They could not be disloyal subjects, for Father Cannon had dis- * Rushwortli, 5. 240. CATHOLIC SUBJECTS. 95 covered in his pictures^ not only curiosity of taste, but curiosity of loyalty ; for he would not have collected a series of the por- traits of our English monarchs, had he looked on them with the eyes of a Jesuit. We are let into the secret history of these priests by the letter which the Archbishop (Abbot) wrote to the Attorney- General on the MarshaFs seizure and disturbance of this nest of priests. " Good Mr. Attorney, " I thank you for acquainting me what was done yesterday at the Clink ; but I am of opinion, that if you had curiously inquired upon the gentleman who gave the information, you should have found him to be a disciple of the Jesuits ; for they do nothing but put tricks on these poor men, who do live more miserable lives than if they were in the Inquisition in many parts beyond the sea. " By taking the oath of allegiance, and writing in defence of it, and opening some points of high consequence, they have so displeased the Pope, that if by any cunning they could catch them, they are sure to be burnt or strangled for it. And once there was a plot to have taken Preston as he passed the Thames, and to have shipped him into a bigger vessel, and so to have transported him into Flanders, there to have made a martyr of him.* In respect of these things, King James always gave his protection to Preston and Warrington, as may be easily shown. Cannon is an old man well-aflPected to the cause, but meddleth not with any factions or seditions. " They complain their books were taken from them, and a * Father Preston was the great champion for the oath of allegiance, and wrote several books in its defence, in answer to Bellarmine, Suarez, &c., under the name of Roger Widdrington. He was a learned Benedictine, and missionary in the reign of James and Charles. He stood out long against the intreaties of his friends, and the menaces of Rome ; but after this firm and even successful resistance having prevailed with many, both clergy and regular, to join with him, I find that this able champion in so noble a cause, Englishman as he was, surrendered all his rights and his understanding to despotic Rome ! How, therefore, could a Protestant, for a moment, depend on the conviction of a Romanist, since the firmest advocates for tendering allegiance to their English sovereign, in the face of their own arguments, and against the very oaths they have ofiered, were backslidei's into the supernatural dai'kness of the Roman cavern. — Dodd's Church History, ii. 420. 96 CRITICAL DIFFICULTIES WITH crucifix of gold, with some other things, which, I hope, are not carried out of the house, but may be restored again unto them; for it is in vain to think that priests will be without their beads or pictures, models of their saints; and it is not improbable that before a crucifix they do often say their prayers. " I leave the things to your best consideration, and hope that this deed of yours, together with my word, will restrain them for giving offence hereafter, if so be that lately they did give any. I heartily recommend me unto you, and so rest " Your loving friend, G. Cant." We have now an idea of the real occupation of these priests, and the necessity of their voluntary confinement, for their own personal safety. Their object was to emancipate their fellow Romanists from their foreign despotism; they were in heart, or at least in outward appearance, true-born Englishmen ; but they were not the less Roman Catholics ; and while the series of the collected portraits of the English monarchs marks their patriotic feeling, the flout of old Father Cannon, " that Col- lington's beard had done James the First more damage than an army of ten thousand men," shows that though ready to acknowledge the English monarch as his sovereign, the priest held but lightly his skill in divinity. The ignoble means practised by the Papal Court to silence their refractory subjects, is not exaggerated by the Archbishop. The historian of the Roman Catholics himself notices the fate of an unfortunate Benedictine, who, having written against the temporal power of the Pope and the loose casuistry of the Jesuits, was decoyed abroad, and confined for twenty years a prisoner at Rome.* That implacable tribunal could not even forgive the miserable apostate who returned to its bosom ; for while it par- doned, it pronounced his death, as appeared by the mysterious fate of the Archbishop of Spalatro, who was lured to quit Eng- land, and to expiate his apostasy at Rome. The more modern fate of the great historian of Naples, whose learned genius dared to investigate the sources of the ecclesiastical power, attests that power's unrelenting intolerance. Giannone, enticed from his * Dodd's Church History, iii. 101. CATHOLIC SUBJECTS. 97 retreat In a neutral dominion, betrayed, and cast into a tower, in the tenderness of Papal mercy was suffered to pine away in solitude. We have now ascertained the design of Charles the First and his minister in their intercourse and protection of that small party of the English Roman Catholics who would not refuse their oath of allegiance to their native sovereign, and who occupied themselves in writing books to enlighten their fellow Eomanists. Their little success attests the desperate cause they advocated. The result of this temporising spirit of the English Government, which we have with some pains developed, vras at the time to renew the jealousies of their own people, and finally to leave their own character in history doubtful and ambiguous. It is said that Charles the First, in the course of his reign, discharged more than eleven thousand priests. They were sent to prison by shoals, and regularly every year great numbers were liberated by privy seal. This appeared very strange to the public. A statute of Elizabeth, confirmed by James, had declared that all natural subjects in priest's orders, by the authority of the Roman See, were traitors, and were condemned for execution. It was considered by Parliament, in 1640, that Charles the First was censurably remiss in not hanging all these priests ; and the King's conduct on that occasion discovers his perplexit3\ One John Goodman, convicted of being a Romish priest, was condemned, but reprieved by the King ; on this reprieve the Commons hold a conference with the Lords, and petition for his execution. The King, in his answer, observed that when the Recorder had attended on him, as usual, with the names and crimes of convicts, he had found that Goodman had been con- demned for being in priest's orders; but that he had been acquitted of perverting the people in their belief. Tender of blood in cases of conscience, the King considered that such a man was fitter to be banished or imprisoned. This produced a remonstrance, urging the justice of the law.* A deputation of the Houses waited on the King ; when one of the King's argu- ments was, that " Elizabeth and James did never avow that any • Rushworth, iv. 158. VOL. I. H 98 CRITICAL DIFFICULTIES WITH priest in their time was executed merely for religion/' The King however (it was in 1640) declares that since he is pressed for execution, he would not discontent the people, and he wholly remits the prisoner to the mercy of hoth Houses ; but he adds, " r desire ye to take into consideration the inconveniences which may on this occasion fall on my subjects and other Protestants abroad, since it may seem to other States to be a severity. I have told you this, and now think myself discharged from all ill consequences that may ensue from the execution of this priest." The royal answer was received with humming, as Baillie informs us ; and this mark of their approbation attests that the majority of the members were not yet perfectly trained up for mere party purposes. In this dilemma, the noble conduct of the unhappy convict himself appears to have relieved both parties. Goodman peti- tioned to be executed, that "he might not. live the subject of so great discontent in your people against your Majesty. If this storm be raised for my sake, let me be cast into the sea, that others may avoid the tempest : my blood will be well shed to cement the breach between your Majesty and your subjects on this occasion." This magnanimous offer of his life seemed to have disarmed the Commons, for nothing more occurred about this priest. On this case, I must observe on two historians. Even Mr. Brodie alludes to ''the intolerance of the Commons," and would apologise for it, by insinuating that the secret motive of persecuting this priest after the reprieve was the fear of the rising party in the Commons, " lest the suspension of the law in the case of Goodman should pave the way for the pardon of Strafford." It must be confessed, that he here makes our patriots astute pupils in the school of Machiavel ; for with this motive we must suppose them to have preconcerted their plans, and taken long views of their future operations. The Presbyter Neale, in composing his own history of the sufferings of Non- conformity, one might have imagined, would have felt a more tolerant spirit ; yet he not only asserts that it was strange in Charles to allege that EHzabeth and James did not hang men for being Papists, since many were executed for denying the CATHOLIC SUBJECTS. 99 Supremacy, &c., but, without any reserve, he condenins the King for not hanging the priests ; and he has favoured us with the secret motive of the unhappy monarch. " Such was his Majesty's attachment to this people ^ to the apparent hazard of the Protestant rehgion, and the peace of the kingdom." Such are the passionate historians of party! They take up the vulgar impressions of the great objects of their inquiries when these are convenient, and rarely view them as statesmen, and much less as philosophers. Charles's hint of the probable retaliation abroad had, no doubt, raised the ^' humming'' of the wiser members. A year afterwards, however, the same principle was acted on, and terminated in the same result. The scene, however, was on a wider scale, for in one week they petitioned to have seven priests hanged. At this moment, in December, 1641, Charles was still more subdued, while the patriotic party was still more popular. The King did not, however, alter his conduct, which finally produced the same result. The recent Irish massacre had embittered the spirit of the Commons, and offers some excuse for their unworthy persecution of seven miserable men. Seven priests were convicted in one week, and, as usual, reprieved by the King, who, in a message to the House, in- formed them that the French ambassador had interceded to have their sentence changed into banishment. The Commons desire the concurrence of the Lords to hang five of the seven priests ; and the Lords confer with them to learn the curious reason why five should be executed and two saved ? I do not find the reason recorded. If it were on any principle of mercy, it lost that virtue in its progress ; for I find the House peti- tioning to hang without exception. The King replied, that if the Houses would consent, he would banish these seven priests j and as they returned no answer, the King suspended this sanguinary execution. It appears that, two months afterwards, when the Venetian ambassador reported that the Pope threatened to land an army in Ireland if these priests were executed, the Commons indig- nantly renewed their petition. The King now hinted at the dread of retaliation by the Irish Rebels, and again left the H 2 100 CRITICAL DIFFICULTIES WITH priests to the mercy of the Parliament. As they could neither agree to pardon or to hang, they were silent.* But these difficulties of the King greatly prejudiced him in the public opinion, and the clemency shown to Goodman and the seven priests was easily ascribed alike by Royalist and by Puritan, equally alarmed, to the influence of the Queen. Charles was always protesting that he would put the laws in execution, yet he never failed in contriving some means to elude them. Our honest Rapin is sadly perplexed to account for such contrary proceedings ; for while he candidly confesses that Charles was not "popishly affected,^' yet during the first fifteen years of his reign he not only screened the Roman Catholics from the rigours of the law, but even countenanced them by confiding to their care some of the most important offices, — as those of Privy- Councillors, Secretaries of State, and Lords Lieutenants of counties. The opinions and motives of conduct of this monarch may be more obvious to us than to his contemporaries. Charles unquestionably had often conciliated his numerous Roman Catholic subjects, and most of them afterwards displayed their inviolable loyalty, for in the civil wars that loyalty did not inter- fere with that creed which bound them to their foreign sovereign at Rome. The King and his minister fell victims to the vain hope of amalgamating them with the great body of the Pro- testants. As for the affair of these priests, Charles well knew that they were not of that class which had terrified his father as well as Elizabeth : they were not gunpowder traitors, poisoners of saddles, or rapier men who were to fall on the beefeaters ; some were bookmen, who had engaged their inkstands in the cause which the monarch was so desirous to maintain. He * I find a memorandum, that on this occasion, in the Lords, the Bishops with- drew tliemselves before the voting of the question, it being in agitatione causA san- guinis. On this principle, the Inquisition bum men, tliat they may not shed blood. Had the Bishops betrayed this humanity in the Star Chamber, they would have shown to the world that they did not resemble the Spanish Inquisition. The story of the seven priests I drew from Nalson, ii. 732 — 740. I wished to confront his statement with Rushworth ; but, to my surprise, I find no notice of the conferences of the Houses about hanging these seven priests. Did Rushworth judge that this piece of history would be little honourable to the wisdom or the humanity of the popular party ? The omission must have been voluntary, and impeaches his integrity. CATHOLIC SUBJECTS. 101 knew them to be zealots, who at least suffered for conscience sake ; many were condemned merely for having taken priest's orders, though living obscurely as the disguised dependents of some ancient Roman Catholic family. Could he, divesting himself of the true dignity of a sovereign, and of that intelli- gence which the office of sovereignty should include, run with the clamours of a party and the illusions of the people ? Charles could not have imagined that the commonweal was to be preserved by a hecatomb of miserable priests. Much we grant to the panic of those unhappy times, and more to the passions ; but can we entertain a doubt that the merciless persecutions of these priests was one of the stalking-horses of party ? I cannot quit this subject without pausing on one of the most pathetic incidents in this history of human nature — the situation and the feelings of these most miserable men, the Roman Catho- lic priests. How many inevitable crimes, and how many untold sufferings, never appear in the history of a people ! One of the Capuchins who attended on Henrietta has left a memoir, which affords us the secrethistory of that devoted party. Pere Gamache writes with the simplicity of a child, and he convinces me of his sincerity, even when he describes some miracles which he himself witnessed. He perpetually reiterates that there can be no other religion than the Catholic Apostolical and Roman ; it is the true religion, founded by Jesus Christ, and was the only one in which a mortal soul could be saved. It appears, that by " the solid reasons" which his great genius could enforce, Pere Gamache was very adroit in convert- ing young ladies and old gentlemen. He exults in the martyr- doms which he certainly witnessed in England, under " the detestable Parliament." The pursuivants, who were employed to hunt out Romanists, he describes generally as persons of an infamous character ; the greater number consisting of apostates, whose intimacy with the haunts and customs of their former associates assisted their pursuits. They had free entrance into the houses of Romanists at all hours, and priest-catching became actually a wicked trade, in which they laid traps and directed decoys to inveigle their victims. These pursuivants resembled the worst class of Bow- street runners, if it be true that some of them verify an old 102 CRITICAL DIFFICULTIES WITH proverb. These Englislimen were dragged to prison, and on the mere conviction of being priests, either by their own confession, or the deposition of witnesses, these helpless beings, whose pro- fession the Government had made a state-crime, passed from the prison to the gallows. The Capuchins, who still remained in England, after the departure of Henrietta, awaiting her return, now disguised in their persons, for their beards would have been in their way, by bribing the jailors, were admitted to visit the condemned priests, and offer their spiritual aid ; and as the matter was understood, the jailor's Protestantism melting away in his hand, he would lock them all night in the cells, and thus secure the imprisoned the rites of their religion. The priests said the mass, received the confessions, distributed the adorable sacrament of the Eucharist, and received from the hands of those who in a few hours were to be saints, images bearing some signature from their blessed hands, and relics which the Romanists would collect with avidity. Such were the Vigils of Martyrdom ! "These faithful and generous warriors of God," exclaims Pere Gamache, " issued from the prison-gate to their glory." At the tree, some disguised priest would insinuate himself among the crowd to grant absolution to the condemned man ; it was done by a secret sign agreed on, either by holding down the head or lifting the arms, but if the disguised Capuchin, in the fervour of his act, should have betrayed himself, the bar- barous cry from the mob, of "Priest! Priest!" was a fatal signal that immediate disappearance could alone save his life. Some of these priests rejoiced when they listened to their barbarous sentence — it secured them the martyrdom they aspired to. There were others who loved life, without yielding up their religious faith. Gamache one night waited on five condemned priests. One was more sullen than the others ; he had flattered himself, by his great interest, that he should be saved, but the King at that moment could not exert his cle- mency, and yielded to the Parliament these five priests. The news was brought to the sullen priest that he must die in the morning. At that moment, when all hope failed, a sudden change took place ; he was now as desirous to die, as he had CATHOLIC SUBJECTS. 103 before been reluctant. " It is better for me/' he cried, " that I perish to-morrow in the cause of Jesus ! Fathers ! let us rejoice for this divine favour!" The supper was before them, "Hold!" he cried, "we will rejoice!" and giving money to the attendants, he bid them go and fetch some Spanish wine. He passed the supper-hour in innocent gaiety, and then they prayed till the break of morning, and he died with the same courage as the others. One of these priests, by an ingenious trick, resolved to give a singular testimony of his religious faith before an innumerable multitude. " This generous soldier of Jesus " on the scaffold, the cord already about his neck, addressing the sheriff, said, " Sir, you see me condemned to death, not for ^ny crime against the King or the State, but simply for having said mass, and being a priest. Death is terrible of itself even for the most resolute, — what will be done for me if I renounce the Catholic religion, and become Protestant ? " " You shall be saved from this shameful and bloody death, you shall have Hfe, and the means of living." This offer he expected, and it gave him an opportunity of turning to the people, to show that life had been offered to him, and that he now rejected it for his religion. The sheriff provoked, ordered immediate execution, but the Romanists rejoiced, and some Protestants were touched by pity — it is well that Pere Gamache did not add that they were all converted.* To the Cathohc, the deaths of these priests were so many martyrdoms, and deeming them such, they used every means and spared no cost to'procure some of their remains, as the most * Although I give more credit to Pere Gamache's Memoirs than some of my readers will incline to, I must at the same time observe, that his feelings are so perfectly papistical that they at times deeply imbue, and give a false colour to his style. I will not think that the Capuchin was capable of inventing stories, but that he told them to great advantage for his own cause. In the present anecdote he says, that the sheriff offered the priest, in case of his abjuring his popery, that he should be recompensed de quelque opulent letiifice. Now it is not probable that a Roman Catholic, with a rope about his neck, abjuring his creed for his life, could ever be tmsted with any church preferment, and therefore Pere Gamache must here, and elsewhere, be charged with a little pious fraud, and with twisting facts, which are true in themselves, to his own pai-ticular purpose, which makes them false. 104 CRITICAL DIFFICULTIES WITH precious and authentic relics. To dip some memorial in their blood, — to snatch a heart still beating with life from the flame, — to preserve the dismembered limb of a victim, — were objects which the Romanists had at heart, and which it appears were often supplied by the avarice of the executioner. The pious ambassador of Portugal was desirous of procuring the head of one of these priests — this was a most difficult acquisition, for the heads were always placed on spikes over London Bridge, all counted and out of reach. The ambassador, however, sent for the executioner, and offered a large sum for a particular head, and paid him half the money down. Ketch, if he took one head, found it absolutely necessary to place another, to prevent any inquiry. He hit on an expedient worthy of himself. At night he opened a fresh grave, cut off the head of his neighbour, and climbing to the top over the bridge, succeeded in spiking the Protestant's head and carrying off the martyr's, but in his trepidation he fractured a limb, and, just escaping from the Thames, carried the remembrance of converting a Protestant's head into a Papist's to the day of his death. Such were these fated priests, and such the adoration of the Romanists ! In the cause of civil and religious freedom, we have perse- cuted— but our persecutions at least have been in detail. A principle more terrific is the eternal reproach of the Romanist, the massacre — the auto-da-fd — the expulsion of a whole people of fellow-citizens — these are written in blood, in the histories of Italy, of France, and of Spain. Centuries of persecution have passed over, yet of all men, the religious are least reconciled to one another ! We must not look in the Gospel for the cause — it is among themselves. To return to our original subject. The other critical difficulty pf our sovereign arose out of the state-reasons, which often interfered with a rash compliance with the reiterated petitions of Parliament against the Romanists. At every proclamation which our Government issued against this unhappy race, at the instigation of their alarmed and jealous Protestants, remon- strances were renewed by the great European powers ; reta- liation was provoked, and one frequent cause of relaxing the severity of our penal code was the desire to abate that spirit of CATHOLIC SUBJECTS. 105 persecution, whicli Rome busily revived against the Continental Reformed. The emancipation of the British Romanists was one of the great state-interests of France and Spain. It always formed one of the chief articles in their treaties, and was the subject of the incessant representations of their resident am- bassadors. Whenever James the First had to propitiate the foreign powers, a habit which his pacific system too often indulged, a conciliatory style towards the Catholics was held out to his Parliament, which was sure to revive the dread response of " the alarming growth of the Austrian power, and the state of our poor oppressed brethren abroad.^^ To further the projected alliances with Spain, and afterwards with France, the execution of the penal laws against the Ro- manists was suspended; but Fuller describes the popular uneasiness in his own manner. " The people suspected that if the treaties took effect, more water of the Tiber, than of the Thames, would run down London Bridge.^' It is to these cabinet measures which James alluded in one of his later speeches. " It is true, that at times, for reasons best known to myself, I did not so fully put the laws in execution, but did wink and connive at some things that might have hindered more weighty affairs. ^^ Charles also assigned the reason of his lenient conduct to the Roman Cathohcs, when his third Parlia- ment seemed in dread of the designs of Popery. " It had been with the hope that foreign Princes would have used the like moderation towards the Protestants, but not finding the fruits of it, he was now resolved to add some farther severity to what the petition desired." A statesman-like answer ! The King could not contend with the voice of the people, but in yielding to it, he gave this public warning to foreign powers, of the necessity of a reciprocal forbearance. Foreign Cabinets imagined that it only depended on the will of the English monarch to grant an open toleration to his Catholics; and therefore the repugnance which James and Charles showed to put forth an open declaration in their favour, at the very time they consented to a suspension of the penal laws, argued to them an uncertain grant, and seemed a gross duplicity. And whenever it happened, as it frequently occurred, that the temporary quiet which the Catholics enjoyed, roused 106 CRITICAL DIFFICULTIES WITH the fears of the people, and Parliament, too often operating on these panics, called out for the severe execution of the penal laws against the Catholics, the English sovereign was denounced by France, and Spain, and Italy, for disingenuousness and per- fidy. James always assured the foreign ambassadors that he could only grant a connivance, but not an open toleration, to his Catholic subjects. These critical difficulties were perpetually recurring. The secret though slight intercourse which Charles held with Rome, diffused a terror through the nation ; yet we may now learn that on his side the sole objects of that intercourse were the restitu- tion of the Palatinate — and perpetual projects to alleviate the state of his own Roman Catholic subjects, and secure his royal supremacy, by passing over in silence his ecclesiasical. The administration of his minister, Laud, was, on the same principle, to melt two opposite faiths into one, by a reunion of the churches ; and thus to reconcile contraries, which attempt ended so fatally. Yet the popular error run, that the Protestant cause had been utterly abandoned ; and those popular panics a party knew well how to direct for their own purposes. The prejudices against Charles for his connivance of Popery proved fatal to him in many of the most critical periods of his reign. The Queen's " idolatry '' was always a lively reveil, for- the Royalists were as jealous of the King in this respect as the Parliamentarians and the Puritans. Alone, in the midst of violence and war, after the loss of the battle of Naseby, Charles resolved, in despair, to engage the Irish Romanists. Their forces cast into the scales of fortune might have turned them. But in this attempt Charles placed himself in a dilemma. To have done this openly would have struck with jealousies and terrors his Protestant people, and his having done it secretly has countenanced an opinion with some that Charles would have sacrificed the religion and constitution of his country. His success would have been pronounced a coup d'etat ; his ill-fortune has cast on him the odium of a duplicity of conduct into which his hard fate too often hurried him. This frequent contradiction in the conduct of the EngUsh sovereigns has seemed inexplicable both to their apologists and CATHOLIC SUBJECTS. 107 their censurers. Mr. Brodie, observing on Charles the First's '* insincere deahng in regard to recusants," which he tells us, " even his apologists admit," cannot account for " the line of policy which the ministers of the crown pursued, when they endeavoured to alarm Parliament by the audacious proceedings of Jesuits."* In the one case the King protected these unhappy Romanists, the recusants, from the fury of the popular prejudices as long as he could ; and in the other he was compelled to sacri- fice them to the popular feeling, to obtain supplies from the Commons. This is the true picture of the complicated state in which James and Charles were involved between the jarring interests of their Bomanists and their Protestants. The subject before us may be illustrated by the position of other monarchs and ministers abroad, since the Reformation ; and we shall invariably find that the people so little compre- hended their designs, that these eminent personages have incurred the same public censure, though, in fact, they were devoting themselves to the pubHc cause. Henry the Fourth of France, a genius born for empire, him- self a Protestant monarch, doomed to rule over a Roman Catholic nation, could see no stability in his government, if he persisted in protesting against the authority of Papal Rome ; hi* state-policy cut the gordian knot of theological politics, and with equal fortitude and prudence he bent to human circumstances. The one was sacrificed to the many. But the hand which sub- scribed a public profession of Popery, at the same time signed the benevolent Edict of Nantes, which conferred toleration on his oppressed Protestants. But Henry has incurred the usual odium of apostasy from the Protestants he loved ! Cardinal Richelieu found himself much in the same predicament, and, by acting in the same manner, drew on himself the odium of his own Romanists. The Cardinal, having granted a peace to the Huguenots, was instantly assailed by his enemies as a man of no religion. Libels were showered on him from every part of Roman Catholic Europe. He was called " the Cardinal de la Rochelle; the Patriarch of Atheists ; the Pope of the Calvinists." * Brodie, ii. 174. 108 CRITICAL DIFFICULTIES WITH CATHOLIC SUBJECTS. He felt these aspersions sensibly, and the burning of these libels (lid not suppress them. Yet certainly it was not any luke- warmness in the cause of Papistry which had induced this subtile Cardinal to treat heretics with forbearance ; liis secret intention was far opposite to what appeared, and it was not necessary to inform the Huguenots that he had only deceived them. After 1628, no one accused Richelieu of tolerating heretics. " He never discovered more ability as a statesman," observed Le Clerc, " than at the moment his conduct suffered such popular censure," and which censure came from those for whose cause he acted. In the great intercourse of European nations, politicians seem doomed to act by indirect means. An open avowal of the real purpose of the negotiator would close at once all nego- tiation ; for such complicate and clashing interests can only be accorded by the tediousness of mutual accommodation. In the most successful negotiation, the most active genius has only gained the most he could, and yielded the least he was forced to. Hence those dark and intricate practices of state-policy, state-secrecy, and state-craft; subterfuges, expedients, conni- vances, and the juggle of deceptions treaties. We may smile at the mystifying style of James the First, but it veils a dark truth — " You must not dip too deep in what kings reserve among themselves, among the arcana hnperii." He alluded to those dilemmas whose horns transfix both the sovereign and the people. And this unhappy result must happen, that often, while the statesman is earnestly engaged in obtaining the objects of popular interest, by means which appear quite contrary to their, purpose, — like James and Charles, and Henry and Richelieu, — he is suspected and condemned. Yet who but the statesman in office can know the secrets of Cabinets ? the humours of the influential persons — the projects of the moment — the divided interests, the strength and the weakness of the parties ? These can never reach the people at large, and may not always be comprehended, even by their representatives. Such are the cabals of statesmen ! In according incongruous interests, and with all the infirmities of human nature about them, a more open conduct on their part seems hopeless. The THE GENIUS OF THE PAPACY. 109 perfectibility of politics must be deferred to the day of the per- fectibility of man ; a millenarian politician would be a very romantic historian. The critical and variable situation of our sovereigns, in regard to their Roman Catholic subjects, long formed a political phenome- non which perplexed contemporaries, and has puzzled historians. It occasioned the English monarch, as we have shown, some- times to excite the clamours of his own people, and sometimes the murmurs of foreign Cabinets, and has caused an apparent contradiction in the professions and the acts of the sovereign. The mysterious motives and the involved principles which led to this paradoxical result could not have escaped the scrutiny of our historians, had they written with less partiality, and with far more philosophical investigation ; in a word, had they dared to look upwards to the fair countenance of Truth, which all parties have so often veiled. CHAPTER VII. THE GENIUS OF THE PAPACY. It was a single blow, I repeat, which for ever separated our fellow-countrymen among themselves, but the stroke was not human ! The supernatural royalty of the Papacy was an invisible dominion placed beyond the reach of a human hand. It is absolutely necessary that the student of modern history should form some notion of the genius of the Papacy, if he would comprehend the astonishing effects of that anomalous power which startle us in the sobriety of history. No philosophical genius has yet composed the vast history of the Papacy. The elaborate researches of Giannone in his Istoria del regno di Napoli will provide the curious inquirer with an intimate knowledge of the Ecclesiastical Constitution, should his curiosity not weary in accompanying the erudite Jurisconsult through his five discursive quartos.* We would not draw our * Giannone was betrayed and condemned to perpetual solitude. The occasion of his flight from the realms whose history he had composed, is characteristic of the Papal Government. On the first pubhcation, the ecclesiastics practised every art 110 THE GENIUS OF THE PAPACY. waters from the troubled streams of the early Protestants ; the amiable Huguenot Plessis de Mornay,* and the vindictive Calvinist Jurieu;t nor from that heap of works which were thrown out in heat and passion. The tribunal of posterity admits not suffering witnesses to sit among the jury, or decree with the judge. One glorious fragment indeed, long suppressed from the world, is consecrated by genius — and it comes, too, from Rome itself ! The indignant and Protestant spirit of the grave historian of Italy broke forth, till, startled by the force and multitude of his own truths, he apologises for his noble of calumny to kindle the hatred of the populace against Giannone, who soon dis- covered that he could not venture to walk in safety the streets of Naples. I trans- late his words. ** They invented a diabolical rumour that I had denied the evident periodical miracle of the prodigious liquefaction of the blood of St. Januarius." The rumour was followed by a menace that should the blood of the Saint," on the approaching day, be obdurate, and the miracle cease, the people would now know to whom they were to ascribe the loss of their celestial patron. Giannone was advised by his friends not to stand the trial. By the style of his narrative, it would seem as if the historian by no means denied tlie miracle. Indeed, when at Geneva, he professed the Roman Catholic faith ; and it was to perform the Papistical rites more publicly that he was inveigled by a Piedmontese officer, an agent of Rome, to the Paschal communion in an Italian village ; this Mouton finally conducted the credulous historian to his dungeon. Giannone, hostile to the Popes, was not so to Papistry. He bitterly censures our Henry the Eighth for usurping the supremacy in the Anglican Church ; but the deformity of this error was much greater, he says, when Elizabeth ascended the throne ; and contemptuously adds, " Then, for the first time, a woman bore the title of the head of the Church, — an event which offered to the universe the ridi- culous scene of a spiritual sovereignty degraded to tlie distaff." I fear we must despair of finding a philosopher in a Roman Catholic. * In his Mysterium IniquitatUj aeu Historia Papains, &c. This pure and noble spirit Voltaire paints as the most delightful of men : — Censeur dcs Courtisans mais Ti la cour aime ; Fier ennemi de Rome, et de Rome estimd. Were this so, it would do great honour to Rome ; for Momay labours to demon- strate, that his Holiness is the Anticlirist ; however, as one aohriquet is as valid as another, the Romanists call Mornay " The Pope of the Huguenots." t Histoirc du Calvinismo ct celle du Papisme mises en parallele, 2 vols. 4to, abounds with curious matters, but their correctness sometimes has been impeached. It is a voluminous answer to Father Maimbourg's History of Calvinism. Bayle took up the subject, and proved to be the greater favourite with the public. Jurieu, who was no half hater, and the friend of Bayle, never forgave his friend his eminent success; and the mortified controversialist, irascible and visionary as he was, finished by hating the philosopher as well as the Pope. THE GENIUS OF THE PAPACY. Ill ardour — il dolore giustissimo del danno publico, m'aveva piu ardentamentej che non conviene alia lege delV Istoria traportalo^ — as if history had laws to suppress the emotions which it would inspire ! The error was not in Guicciardinij but in human weakness; in that Roman Catholicism, which stands confused between what it deems sacred and knows to be criminal. The Papistical nephew who suppressed the passage may claim our pardon and our gratitude for the conscientious impulse which prevented its annihilation. Concealed among polemical disquisitions, or traced by the curious idleness of mere antiquaries, we have still to explore into the secret principles, by which a power more than human has arisen among mankind. The philosophical inquirer will not limit his researches by simple dates, for dates, which com- memorate events, furnish no discovery of their causes. The principle of actions often lies remote from the acts themselves ; nor must we, in the novelty of a name, lose the recollection of the antiquity of the thing. The genius of the Papacy existed before there were Popes. On this critical principle of historical investigation, the future historian of the Papacy may yet detect, how the religion of modern Rome has disguised Polytheism, and mimicked Judaism. We can hardly recognise the mystical Being whose growth shadowed the earth by an universal dominion, when we would trace him through the obscurity and neglect of the first cen- turies of his existence. The pastor of Rome with his flock, often suppliants, even to Pagans, for a precarious aid, claimed but a portion of the common alms devoted to the poor, or piously collected for the building of a church. As yet was there no pride of supremacy in that meek bosom, no avarice for Jewish tithes, no longing for Levitical first-fruits. Pasce oves meaSj was the apostolical command, and the humble Presbyter or Bishop knew only to obey. The sole vestige of * Guicciardini, lib. iv. — towards the close. The reader must not look for it in the contents appended to each book, which were probably taken from the original edition, in which it was cautiously omitted. The authentic passage, recovered from the autograph of the autlior, after having been published by Protestant collectors, was not finally inserted till the Florence edition of 1775 appeared under the imprint of Friburg. The MS. is preserved in the Magliabecchian Library. 113 THE GENIUS OP THE PAPACY. his poverty is retained in the title prefixed to his Bulla and his Breves, of " The Servant of the Servants of God ;" but in the Ceremoniale Pontificale, we find his truer style, for there the tiarred Pope rules ''the Lord of Lords, and the King of Kings." At length, when the Episcopal jurisdiction grew stronger in the mental darkness of Europe, in those ages when even the chieftains of nations might be classed among the meanest of their own hordes, it was assumed that the Bishop of Rome had been divinely instituted by Jesus, in the person of the first Bishop, whom they asserted to have been the apostle Peter. Wlien men were familiarised with miracles, and a Pope was elected among his rival candidates, from the circumstance of a dove resting on his head, it was hardly accounted miraculous, that a mortal Bishop should be the Vicegerent of Heaven. Certain it is, that the West received what the East rejected. In the possession of the invisible world, the usurper became irresistible on earth — and a mortal omnipotence was founded on a pun, a proverb, and a metaphor, and authenticated by a legend and a forgery.* * Blount — but he was a Roman Catholic — might have placed the Papal titles to their fabulous domains among his " Jocular tenures." The celestial empire, and the divine institution of the Papacy, are founded on Matthew xvi. 18, 19. Our translation runs—" Thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church ; " but in the original Greek, the name Peter has the equi- vocal signification of stone. In the versions of the New Testament in French, Italian, Spanish, and Portuguese, they have been enabled to preserve this play on words ; the French by their Pierre^ the Italians by their Pietro, the Spanish and Portuguese by their Pedro. By converting the stone into a rock, our version gains in dignity and Protestantism, but the Pope's title, dependant on the Autonomasia, has been left to our Catholic neighbours. The keys of the Papacy, and their terrific consequences, were furnished by a metaphor. " I will give unto thee the keys of the kingdom of Heaven ; and what- soever thou shalt bind on Earth, shall be bound in Heaven ; and whatsoever thou shalt loose on Earth shall be loosed in Heaven," This power the Romanists apply solely to the Apostle Peter, and hence derive the Papal dispensing powers. Some Protestants have inferred that this power was equally conferred on all the Apostles, but it is impossible to deny that it was solely addressed to Peter. Bishop Horsley at once concedes the point, but triumphantly asks the Romanist to prove that Peter had ever any successors. Their purgatory, that new-found land in the regions of Theology, originates in a proverbial expression in the Ist of Corinthians iii. 13. 15. To save their own ''stubble " from the " fires," the Pope clemently levied his "indulgences" and his ** masses " pro redemptione animarum. THE GEXms OF THE PAPACY. 11^ The Papa became the vicar of Christ, and was saluted as God ! It is scarcely credible, but it rests on multiplied autho- rities, that the papal divine institution could have occasioned this extreme idolatry, even among the barbarians of the age when it rose. The Pope has been held as " Un dio in terra" Giannone affirms in his ^^ Profession of Faith," p. 12. The Canonists have impiously called his Holiness, Dominus noster Deus Papa — "Our Lord God the Pope."* The same style was adopted by the Council of Lateran, sess. 4th. The title of Pont. Opt. Max. is common on papal medals, and in dedica- tions ; the epithets are the same which are given to the Divinity. There is a curious treatise on schism, by Cardinal Zaberella, Archbishop of Florence; where he declares, alluding to the Popes, whose ambition he wished to control by holding frequent councils — Quod omnia possint quicquid liber et, etiam illicita, et sit plus quam Deus, p. 703. — "That all things are permitted them, even what is unlawful, and so they can do more than To make Peter confer the succession of the Roman See in his own right, it was necessary to conduct the Missionary there. The Scriptural authority not furnishing any evidence, a Romanist desperately asserts that Peter's epistle, dated from Baby- lon, was written at Rome, in his reply to our learned Pearson. The adventures of Peter at Rome may prove their own authenticity, where Simon Magus challenged Peter to fly, and broke his own legs to show he could not himself. Even a Romanist acknowledges — An Petrus fuerit Eomce suhjudice lis eat. The Ecclesiastical forgenes of Rome are too numerous to specify, beginning with the fabulous donation of Constantiue. The pretended original is preserved in the Vatican. Du Plessis Mornay tells us, that the scribe has ventured to add at the end this strange paragraph : — Quamfabulam longi temporis mendada finxit. Momay's Mysterium Iniquitatis, p. 35. As I have not seen the Instrument, I almost doubt this honest confession. However, Peter the fisherman of Galilee, at all events, was quite a different per- son from the Bishop of Rome : even Pope Sylvester, several hundred years after, preferred holding his title from the Emperor, rather than from St. Peter ; and refused wearing a golden crown as not fit for a religious head, as Platina tells us. It was long afterwards that a Pope placed his foot on the neck of an Emperor. These are the materials of Papal history. * The famous Jesuit, Father Parsons, had the ingenious impudence to aflSrm, that he could not find any such expressions, though he had troubled himself in looking after them. Foulis, who has written an extraordinary folio against the Ro- manists, supplied him with a catalogue of ten editions of Paris and Leyden, where he might read them. The learned Giannone, however, is the best of-authorities. VOL. I. I 114 THE GENIUS OP THE PAPACY. God himself." This treatise on schism was put into the index, and has been frequently reprinted by Protestants. It must, however, be acknowledged, that some of the Canonists, pre- tending to be more moderate on the divine person, have been more confused. These assert PapUy nee Deus est, nee homo; sed neuter est inter utrumque. " The Pope is neither God nor man, but neuter, partaking of both natures." In books printed at the Vatican, its master has been imperiously styled "the vice-God." Constantine, it seems, actually saluted the Pope as God ! Such a revolting piece of idolatry has been solemnly alleged as an authority for the divine honours conferred on the pretended successor of Peter. But was Constantine a Chris- tian ? On this perverse association of ideas, which some of the advocates for Popery have joined together, of a God in Heaven, and a vice-God on Earth, Warburton has observed, that they accuse those who deny the infaUibility of the Tiara, of a direct tendency to Atheism. In this divine institution of the Roman Bishop, in this imme- diate connection with the Supreme Being, — we behold the re-institution of the Jewish Theocracy, and earth is again hallowed by the presence of a ''kingdom of priests." The consequence of this impious, but successful mockery, appears in what is at once the object and the foundation of the papistical Empire. Gifted with the attributes of the Deity, was it unrea- sonable in the Pope to demand, or in the people to yield, a passive obedience to one, who was all-knowing, and all-mighty ? A despotism was thus established, in comparison with which the rule of an Eastern monarch was the lightest of govern- ments, for the despotism of modern Rome was not an empire only over the body, but also over the mind. Passive obedience was demanded not merely from the animal man, but from the sensible being. The power of an earthly tyrant is transient, and the theatre of his rule is limited — but in the successor of St. Peter, mankind beheld a terrestrial deity, and in an empire half divine and half human. Heaven might be lost by an Excommunication, and Earth become a desert by an Interdict. The philosopher will pause to inquire by what miraculous contrivance the neck of his fellow-creatures was so nicely fitted to this unparalleled yoke — he will ask by what means such a THE GENIUS OF THE PAPACY. 115 degree of mental terror could have been infused into tlie minds of men without the aid of material force. It is here that we shall detect the secret principle of the Papal government. The very power which ventured to invoke from the silence of its Jewish tomb, the severe and sacred spirit of the abrogated theocracy, with the same wave of the wand, summoned from its gay funereal urn, the wanton genius of departed Paganism, and dared to combine in the novel system, the characteristics of both. The Pope, seated on his eternal throne, smiled even amidst his sublimity, and the same power that founded its rule on eternal terror, established its empire by endless indulgence. Roman Catholicism is a combination of the supernatural agency of the Judaic Theocracy, and the seductive ceremonies of ancient Polytheism. Is it wonderful, then, that none resisted the enchantment ? Is it wonderful that all hurried to propitiate and prostrate themselves before that power, which secured their spiritual existence, while it indulged their earthly carnality ? Such was the Papacy ! The sacerdotal throne, like some miraculous vision, hung amidst the triple regions of Heaven, of Earth, and of Purgatory. A bewildering and mystical fabric of curious superstitions was thrown open to mankind. What they touched were shadows, what they heard were fictions, magical illusions of a scenical religion from the Jubilee to the Tenebres. There all things were made holy, — their bread, their water, their beads, and their bones ; these were " the love tokens " which enchanted the people's affections — and for the children of society they had their shows, and their festivals, and rabbi- nical romances of St. Dominic and St. Francis ; for the imagin- ative, a glory of beatitude ; for the impassioned, celestial loves ! There sat the judge who could never be judged, changing unrighteousness into righteousness, absolving, dispensing, in- dulging, squaring the circle and rounding the square. To him alone upon this earth is permitted to prohibit virtues, which then become vices ; or to consecrate vices, which then become virtues ; for to obey his commands is the greatest of virtues, and to do what he forbids is the greatest of crimes. * Such is the Pope ! This mystical being, kings made more * See the language of Bellarmin. Giannone, Professione di Fede, p. 11. I 2 116 THE GENIUS OP THE PAPACY. than regal, emperors more than imperial ; while the multitude, like the slaves of Ava, cast themselves on the eeirth, nor dared to lift their eyes on the human being before them. The awful prostration of the understanding in the being who was distin- guished as ter caiholicus, even among minds of intellect and spirits of enterprise, is one of the most mortifjdng examples of self-degradation. The victories of French monarchs were gained for the Vicar of Christ, and their successors still pride them- selves on the cheap reward of the peerless title of " The Most Christian King." None more willingly surrendered themselves to their holy Father than the wealthy and the wicked. These covered the land with abbeys and priories, chauntries and shrines, gorgeously erected and munificently endowed, for the salvation of their own souls, and the redemption of their ancestors. The charter of donation, by the largeness of its grant "to God and the Church," often attested the criminal votary. Thus the empire of Papal Christianity found an unfailing growth in the crimes and the remorse of men, and even in the refuse of human nature it could inspire heroes and victims. Whether the triple crown denote, as the Pope's great anti- quary, Angelo Rocca, tells us, three powers — the imperial, the regal, and the sacerdotal, investing the sacred personage with universal authority over the globe ; or whether, as some explain, it be the awful emblem of his three mysterious dominions, cer- tain it is, that his Holiness was a human being, whose likeness never had been seen on this earth, and it is not strange that he should have been so frequently demonstrated to be the Antichrist. His terrestrial pride was viewed on the day of his election. Mounted on a white palfrey, he rode under a canopy supported by Italian nobles or foreign ambassadors ; and when emperors and kings were at Rome, an emperor was to hold the golden stirrup, a king was to guide the silken reins. If too aged to ride, the royal personages were to bear him on their shoulders. At the Pope^s banquet, beneath the state, covered with cloth of gold, were placed his plain chair and table : an emperor was permitted to sit on his left hand, but a king was to take his station at the lower table of Cardinals. Who shall have the THE GENIUS OP THE PAPACY. 117 blessedness of carrying the laver to wash the hands of the Pontiff? — An emperor shall have the blessedness of carrying the laver to wash the hands of the Pontiff. Who shall set his plate before him ? — Both emperors and kings might contend for that honour. The people only believed what they saw. The masters of the world they knew to be subjects, like themselves, of that mystical being whose human divinity was a mystery too great to be comprehended, too certain to be denied. They knew that the sovereigns of the earth were chained together at the chair of St. Peter ; while the sealed edict of a soldierless chief dispersed armies, or dethroned monarchs, and partitioned out empires which were not yet discovered. God himself, in the Roman creed, was in the hands of the Pontiff. Whenever he went forth, he was accompanied by the divinity. The Eucharist preceded him, inclosed in a small case, cautiously steadied on the back of a snow-white steed, beautiful in form and proud with ornaments, around whose neck the small bell tinkled which ushers in the presence of the body of Christ ! If, as the crowd cast themselves on their knees before that small case, one truly pious and philosophic mind, undazzled by the processional pomp, had dared to turn aside and think, he might have been reminded of the ark of the God of Israel, of the time when the Lord of Hosts was carried before the people, while the eyes of twelve armies were bent towards the ark, as they guided their march by the presence of the Deity. This Papacy was a monstrous sovereignty, which the profane legislators of antiquity had never contemplated. It was a polity without a public. In fact, there was no public mind throughout Europe, for Europe was Romanised. The ancients, indeed, had invested the sovereign with the sacerdotal charac- ter; for with them religion was a subordinate and accessory part of their political system ; but modern Rome had invested its prelate with sovereignty. The difference is immense. When the monarch was also the priest, he bowed to the gods, as to the protecting power of the state. When the priest was also the monarch, he trampled upon man, as upon the creature of his omnipotence. When the monarch officiated at the altar, he trusted that the sacredness of his office might render his tem- poral authority more respected. When the priest was seated 118 THE GENIUS OF THE PAPACY. on the throne, he knew his temporal power could enforce his spiritual tyranny. The monarch consulted the interests of his people, for whom he exercised the priesthood. The priest only consulted the interests of his order, by whom he had risen to the monarchy. With the monarch, the people was the great object : with the priest, the people was the great subject. In these latter ages, it would have been a moral impossibility to have reared the divine and human government of the Papacy, which, we must repeat, was a portentous compilation of Oriental despotism, Polytheistical idolatry, and the Judaic theocracy. The most potent of all governments could only have originated in the rudest ages ; for in the history of man- kind it will be found, that every excess of delegated power has ever been proportioned to the wants and infirmities of men. In the political infancy of Europe, the evils of universal barbarism were alleviated by an universal government, where, in the per- son of one common father, the paternal sustained the feeble, for he required slaves; and stayed the indomitable, for he would suffer no rival. The great political secret of supporting the inferior against the superior, was known to Rome. Mean- while, a supernatural power seemed to guard the holy patri- mony. There the conqueror arrested his invasion, there the marauder dropped his rapacious grasp more terrified by excom- munication than by the commandment of Heaven. Had Chris- tianity purified its barbarous nations, Europe would have formed the Platonic dream of the politician — an apostolical common- wealth ; but the barbarous nations corrupted Christianity, and he who was called the father was more corrupt than the sons. In more refined ages, the mundane father of Christianity was not ignorant how to maintain his terrestrial influence, by the intrigues of the cabinet — by infusing mutual jealousies among his own children, and by exciting a war in Europe, or preaching a crusade in Asia, often averting the danger of the times, which might have reached the holy see itself. The Machiavelism of the Roman Pontiff has inflicted sufferings on Christianity far deeper than it ever received from the vagrant Hebrew and the expelled Morisco. The Court of Rome, in affecting spiritual and temporal influence, necessarily made its religion its politics, and its politics its religion. THE GENIUS OF THE PAPACY. 119 But all human institutions partake of the mortal nature of man ; and at length we view the vicegerent of Heaven figuring only as the uninfluential sovereign of a tract of Italy. In considering, however, the Pope as an aged prince, whose territories might be swept away in one morning by any of the petty sovereigns who have partitioned out among themselves the Eden of Europe, we must beware lest we form a very erro- neous conception of the pontifical domination. No inglorious conquest of the Pope can remove the principles of an unex- tinguishable Papacy. Were I writing a volume instead of a chapter, it might not perhaps be difficult to show, in examining the consequences of the civilisation of Europe, that while the individual Pope has become less influential, the Papal system may not have fallen into any decline ; and that the very causes which have reduced the vicar of Christ to a state of comparative insignificance, have also, and necessarily, rendered the Papacy independent of the Pope. In these days the Pope may be a prisoner in the castle of St. Angelo, while the Papal system may be all dominant at Madrid; and while the nominal head of the Papacy may be owing his safety to the exertions of a Protestant prince, the genius of the Papacy, at the same time, will be attacking the interests of that very Protestant prince, in Portugal, in Ireland, or in Mexico. In an age when we flatter ourselves that even the castes of the Hindoos are losing their fatal distinctions, it will be con- sidered too bold to avow that the empire of modern Rome is as eternal in its principles as the empire of ancient Rome was in its pretensions. Yet we cannot forget that the most ancient of religions, and the most ancient of nations, in spite of millen- niums of war and captivity and persecution, count at this day members and votaries not less numerous than when they con- founded the chariots of Assyria, or sacrificed on the banks of Siloah. Like the old theocracy, has the imitative Papacy also separated its followers from all other beings. In ceasing to be Catholics, they cease to be a peculiar and a favoured people — a people before whom are placed, and for whom alone are reserved, both earth and heaven — a people who may possess the one without losing their confidence in the other. Who would reason if he be happy ? Who would relinquish his own certainty for 120 THE GENIUS OP THE PAPACY; the doubts of others ? The God which his lip presses is a God ; the saint which he invokes is a saint ; the religion he adores is the only true religion. Passive obedience, the grand political secret of unity and conformity which some statesmen have perished to obtain, is secured in this government by the im- mutable imagination of its slaves. Sovereigns indeed have wrestled for their freedom — a nation indeed has rejected this creed ; but were I a Catholic, I should perhaps consider that in lapsing from Rome we fell like Lucifer, and that our daring re- bellion only conduced to render Omnipotence more omnipotent. Long previous to Luther, heresy in the Celestial Empire had enraged, without alarming, its divine chieftain. With Moses and Mahomet he had already waged a successful war ; and in his unrelenting dominion, where man often ceases to be a brother, the flame was consecrated as an act of faith, assassi- nation inculcated as a doctrine, massacre honoured with a panegyric, and the expulsion of a whole people of fellow-citizens twice formed a Papal triumph.* But before the sin of clamour- ous Reformation, the abomination of silent heresy was as dust in the balance ; and the might of Rome was never more evi- denced than when a whole nation had emancipated itself from its influence. To counteract the new rebels, even the Inqui- sition was not deemed sufficient — that merciless tribunal where they search for the thoughts of man by the torture which annihilates them. Even this Inquisition was a power which seemed not omnipotent r the Pope dared to create another power even greater than himself. Modern Rome sent forth her flower of chivalry in ^'the order of Jesus." The soldier, its founder, had stamped his military character on these novel adventurers. Ambition to conquer the world for Rome, was the genius of the order. They flew at the signal of their monarchical general to take possession of aU countries. They had chiefs of legions in both hemispheres — sentinels at all posts. Life was not valued by its first enthusiasts, but their successors were * By their expulsion, Spain lost by her Moriscoes her agriculture, which she has never recovered, and by her Hebrews her trades and manufactures — truer sources of wealth than her galleons of Mexico. France, in violating her public faith by the revocation of the Edict of Nantes, and by rejecting from her bosom the most in- genious of her children, enriched by their arts the looms and workshops of her Protestant rival. THE GENIUS OF THE PAPACY. 121 masters of all the wisdom which preserves it. But the atom of glory still worked through the system, and they sacrificed all private interests to their public cause, which terminated at Rome. Politicians in the cabinets of Europe, they were sapping the governments which they themselves were conducting. Casuists in domestic life, their relaxed morality moulded the conscience to the inclinations of the austere or the licentious. Slaves of Rome, every where else rebels : arrogant and meek, obdurate and indulgent, they were the ornaments of society whose happiness was incompatible with their secret government. The character of this versatile body is a solecism in human nature : their history is an enigma unsolved, and their dissolu- tion is even a subject of sceptical inquiry. These were the men who, during the reigns of our early Protestant sovereigns, were attempting by all means, and in all countries, the subjugation to the Roman yoke of this solitary and rebellious Island of England. "When Charles ascended the throne, the Jesuits, from their conduct under Elizabeth and James, were a proscribed race by the law of the land; nevertheless, they swarmed throughout his kingdom. Disguised, but active, they were concealed in lay dresses, in the recesses of private houses, and, finally, they were busied even in the royal palace. Under these circumstances, amid the exultation of the Romanists, and the alarm of the Protestants, Charles the First led to the altar a Roman Catholic princess, and upon this alliance were most probably founded the hopes of all Romanists, that the great result, which they hitherto had failed in bringing out by force, might finally be consum- mated by intrigue. The monarch could not have been uncon- scious of their expectations ; but his tenderness for a portion of his subjects, then numerous and valued, as a sovereign would influence his conduct in the cabinet, and at times his feelings as a man. Alternately to keep down and to protect the Romanist, as we have seen, was a labour of danger and difficulty. The King's conscientious profession of Protestantism, and the strength of his character, were the best guarantees against the kingdom of England sinking once more beneath the Genius op THE Papacy. 122 CHARLES ASCENDS THE THRONE. CHAPTER VIII. CHARLES ASCENDS THE THRONE.— THE FIRST PARLIAMENT.— ARRIVAL OF THE QUEEN.— SECRET HISTORY OF THE KING S FIRST MINISTERS.— BUCKINGHAM.—WILLIAMS.— LAUD. The youthful Charles ascended the English throne with all the prodigal hopes of sovereignty. At this moment, in the warmth of his age, and with his own sanguine temper, the King was not, perhaps, the least happy man in his dominions. A daughter of France, in the bloom of sixteen, was his bride : his Favourite's quarrel with Spain had fallen in with the pas- sions of the people, and the rupture of the threatened Spanish treaties had obtained, even for Buckingham, a few months' popularity. The nation had long wantoned in the luxuriance of peace. England stood the envy of the Continental powers. When we turn to the French Mercure, which may be often considered as an official state paper, and always as an useful commentary on the times, we discover that our country was the only kingdom in Europe untroubled by foreign or intestine war ; an asylum to which many had flown, to pursue their industrious trades, and where shortly after they sought a royal patronage for the more delightful arts. The political watchword " Grievances" from the lips of party leaders had not yet been multiplied by the echoes of the populace ; the undefined terms of the royal prerogative, and the privileges of the Commons, had yet been only touched on by the scholastic fancies of James, and not expressly insisted on by the Parliament itself; politics had not yet been artfully grafted on religion ; and the supernatural doctrines which implied a critical knowledge of the will of Heaven, and treated theology as a system of the schools, had not yet been mixed with privy loans and subsidies. All these were seeds of evil which were lying in the soil. It must be confessed, that the aff'airs of a people may look better in per- spective, than the interior view may justify. THE FIRST PARLIAMENT. 123 A new era, however, was about to be opened by an enterprise of a hardier nature than the nation had long been accustomed to ; and the eyes of Europe were watchful over the first great act of the spirited young Prince. Charles the First, on his accession, was desirous of changing his style to that of the King of Great Britain, in all legal or civil acts, as well as in acts of state. This comprehensive style was probably suggested by a design of amalgamating the diver- sified portions of his dominions, of giving coherence and unity where the jealousies of three distinct races had often carried their rival feuds. This design anticipated the "Unions" of happier days ; but it was so little comprehended at the time, that when the King intimated his design to his judges, the sages of the law agreed after consultation, that this change of the regal title could not be eff'ected, and the two Houses, with equal wisdom, delivered the same judgment.* The King's earliest act was to assemble the great national Council. Awaiting the arrival of the Queen, Charles, not without expressions of impatience, delayed for a very limited time the meeting of the Houses. Charles, attended by his Court, sojourned at Canterbury. He went for some days to Dover, to direct the accommodations for the Queen, — and then returned to Canterbury, that the Queen on landing might have time to recover from the voyage before their first meeting. The ordnance from the French coast proclaimed the Queen's departure, and after a stormy passage, at seven in the evening, she stepped " out of her boat on shore by an artificial bridge, framed for that use only. Master Tirwhit brought the news of her arrival within half an hour and six minutes'' to the King at Canterbury. The mes- senger of royal love had wings svrifter in flight than our jockeys can calculate. The King and his Court arrived at Dover Castle at ten in the * James took the title of King of Great Britain in the second year of his reign ; but Mr. Hallam observes, that " it was not long afterwards abandoned." The very change of name to Great Britain was objected to ; — one of those hard and minute acts of jealousy in the Commons, which delighted to thwart the first Stuart, and made James threaten to live alternately in the two kingdoms, and keep his Court at York. 121 ARRIVAL OF THE QUEEN. morning ; and though at that moment unprepared to meet the impatient bridegroom, Henrietta flew from her apartment to receive him. Kneeling at his feet, with all her spontaneous grace and native vivacity, she kissed his hand ; the King bending over her, wrapt her in his arms, and kissed her with many kisses. This royal and youthful pair, unlike others of their rank, met with the eagerness of lovers, and the first words of Henrietta were those of devotion. " Sire ! je suia venue en cepais de voire Majeste pour etre usee et commandee de vous." Her dark eyes sparkled, and her motions were quick and volatile. It had been rumoured that she was short in stature, but she reached to the King's shoulders. Charles cast his eyes down to her feet, anticipating his thoughts, Henrietta playfully showing them, declared that " she stood upon her own feet, for thus high T am, neither higher nor lower.^' After an hour's conversation in privacy, they proceeded to Canterbury, and on Barham Downs the Queen found a number of the ladies of the Court waiting her arrival. Descending from her carriage, they were presented to Henrietta in this rural levee by the King. Henrietta took her dinner surrounded by the Court. The King performed the office of her carver, in cutting up a pheasant and some venison. By the side of the Queen stood her ghostly confessor, solemnly reminding her that this was the eve of John the Baptist, and was to be fasted, exhorting her Majesty to set no scandalous example on her first arrival. But Charles and his Court were now to be gained over as much as John the Baptist. Henrietta afi'ected to eat very heartily of the forbidden meat, which gave great comfort, it seems, to several of her heretical subjects. She carried her dissimulation so far, that being asked, whether she could abide a Huguenot, she replied, " Why not ? Was not my father one?'' In all this conduct Henrietta was acting a part the most distressing to her feelings. Her ready smiles, the graceful wave of her hand, the many " good signs of hope," as are mentioned in a manuscript letter, induced some of the Eng- lish to conclude that their Queen would become one of them- selves. Even the grave Sir Symonds D'Ewes, the puritanic antiquary, struck by her deportment to her women, and her looks to her servants, " which were so sweet and humble, could not abstain from deep-fetched sighs, to consider that she wanted ARRIVAL OF THE QUEEN. 125 the knowledge of true religion ; " a circumstance, however, that Henrietta would have as zealously regretted in Sir Symonds himself. It is evident that this vivacious French lady, at her first moments, resolved that all England should fall in love with her; but a few days after, at Whitehall, she dispensed ^'a frown,'' as an alarmed courtier writes, which indicated that her "pleasing countenance '' was capable of expressing " a spirit and vigour " which, in the mind of the observer, seems to have connected itself with a terror of Papistry ! The Queen at dinner feeling inconvenienced by the heat and the company, " drove us all out of the chamber. I suppose none but a Queen could have cast such a scowl.'' Nature had formed Henrietta to be charming and haughty; a volatile, vivacious woman, who sometimes remembered that she was the daughter of Henry the Fourth. In his new Parliament Charles discovered a more sullen bride, and the youthful Monarch, warm with hope and glory, with all the impatience of a lover, w as ungraciously repulsed even in the first favours. Charles, in his anxiety to assemble Parliament, had proposed to summon the body which had last met. The Lord-Keeper, Williams, reminded the King, that the late Parliament had naturally expired with him who had called it in his own name. Charles then commanded that writs should be issued " without the loss of a day." The Lord-Keeper observed, that it had been usual to take certain precautionary measures to allow the King's trustiest friends " to deal with the counties, cities, and boroughs where they were known, to procure a promise for their elec- tions." The King refused the counsel, and Buckingham opposed Williams. With the generous earnestness of his age, Charles had resolved to throw himself unreservedly into the arms of his Parliament, looking to no other party to maintain a war of their own, than the Parliament itself. Amid the pomp of the regal office, and in the view of the French nobility who had accompanied his Queen, Charles stu- diously dignified his first meeting with the representatives of his people by the peculiar solemnity of its ceremonial. As yet uncrowned, on this day, the first on which he addressed the Lords and Commons, Charles wore his crown, and vailed it at the opening and at the close of his speech, a circumstance to 126 AREIVAL OF THE QUEEN. which the Parliament had not been accustomed. Still more to solemnise this meeting, the King would not enter into business, till they had united in prayer ; commanding the doors to be closed, and a bishop to perform the office. The suddenness of this unexpected order is said to have disconcerted the Roman Catholic Lords, of whom the less rigid knelt, and the moderate stood ; one startled Papist did nothing but cross himself. The King addressed both the Houses with an earnestness of manner, and a plainness of style which strongly contrasted with the oratorical elocution of the late monarch, and with the solemn honours by which Charles had, as it were, recognised their dignity and their authority. The speech may be found in Rushworth — the friendly tone must be shown here : " I hope that you do remember that you were pleased to employ me to advise my father to break off the treaties (with Spain). I came into this business willingly and freely, like a young man, and consequently rashly; but it was by your interest, your engagement. I pray you remember that this being my first action, and begun by your advice and entreaty^ what a great dishonour it were to you, and me, that it should fail for that assistance you are able to give me." It cannot be alleged against Charles the First that he pre- ceded the Parliament in the war of words, or in those slights and insolences which laid the seeds of civil war. But the simplicity of his style, the friendliness of his demeanour, the modest allusion to his own youth, and the gentle intimation that this war had been entered into by their desire, excited no sympathy. They voted not a seventh part of the necessary expenditure. Unquestionably this first reception which the King met with from Parliament was, by him, altogether unexpected. Thus early his first Parliamentary distresses opened on him. His ardent and impatient hopes were baffled, the season for action had advanced ; that frequent affliction of the times, a pestilence, was raging in the metropolis ; most of the members were flying from their station ; few remained but a party which was, as it seemed, that wormwood from which his servants in office could never extract the bitterness. To keep them together with death THE KmG*S FIRST MINISTERS. 127 hovering about them, when as one of the speakers emphatically exclaimed, " while they were now speaking the bell was tolling every minute," was deemed a cruel manoeuvre to hasten their supplies, and to break up the Parliament was the ruin of the Sovereign's hopes, his honour, and his power. There was also a fatal discord among the King^s intimate counsellors. The secret history of the Lord-Keeper Williams, and Buckingham and Laud, would show a chain of cabinet intrigues, whose links are more perceptible to us, than they were probably to the parties themselves. Of these eminent political rivals, the Lord-Keeper Williams — then Bishop of Lincoln, and afterwards Archbishop of York, was the master genius. As a scholar he partook, in common with many of that learned age, of that prodigal erudition which delights in inexhaustible quotations from writers whom we now deem obscure — but whose aptitude or felicity startle us, while we are reminded, that what lies forgotten may be as valuable as that which is remembered. But the native faculties of Williams excelled his acquired powers. His scintillant wit, his acute dis- crimination, his vigorous eloquence, come vitiated to our taste, by the quaintness or the pedantry of the prevalent style ; his great powers seem encumbered by their worthless ornaments, but this ecclesiastical Lord-Keeper had far advanced beyond his age in the wide comprehension of his mind. His practised touch opened the hearts of men, and his commanding spirit appeared as much in the magnificence of his life, as in the might of his genius. As a statesman, his quick apprehension acted like inspiration ; his sagacity struck with the force cf prediction ; but his restless ambition, though capable of more noble designs, and even of more generous feelings, had systematised intrigue ; and what he could not obtain by wisdom and integrity, he would circumvent by servility and cunning. A great politician, but as subtle a Machiavellian, he maintained a whole establishment of the "juggling fiends'' of espionage, and a long line of secret com- munication made him the centre of every political movement. It was a maxim with him, that no one could be a statesman without a great deal of money, and he once confessed that from his studies of divinity he had gleaned another principle, licet uti 128 THE king's first MINISTEliS. altero peccato, to make the sins of others useful. As he was not scrupulous in his means, among other extraordinary methods of gaining men for a temporary purpose, he exercised a peculiar faculty, which, if it deserve a name, we may call political imagi- nation. Clarendon tells us, that on any particular occasion he could invent entire scenes and lengthened conversations, per- fectly appropriate to the persons, all which had never occurred. Such artful fictions had all the force and nature of truth. These apparent confidential disclosures made the stubborn, credulous ; and the irresolute, firm. During the absence of the Favourite in Spain, the Lord- Keeper had practised on the fears, and perhaps on the wisdom, of the aged monarch. We discover papers slipped by sleight of hand into that lion's mouth for state-accusations — the pocket of the King, — midnight interviews — addresses ab Ignoto — myste- rious suggestions, — by which our wily politician at length possessed himself of the royal confidence, and had so effectually undermined his patron Buckingham, that had James not died at the critical moment, the fall of the great Favourite had cer- tainly been resolved. With the most refined duplicity, this Episcopal Lord-Keeper was conducting two opposite systems. He was combining with the Earl of Bristol and the Spanish interest, at the moment the faithless confidant was warning his absent patron of " ingrateful devils at home." Williams dis- played the ambi-dextrous felicity of one who pursues his certain end by uncertain means. Master of himself on all occasions, he would show himself in all forms ; and versatility with him seemed no change in the unity of his designs. But these subterranean workers are frequently countermined, and are often taken by surprise as they grapple together in darkness. The mysterious conduct of the Lord-Keeper could not entirely hide itself from the jealous eyes of the Duke, who once avowed to Lord Bacon, as his settled principle, that " the man who would not live by his smile, should perish by his frown." On his return from Spain, Buckingham found that Williams was running a course opposite to his. The Lord- Keeper was neglected ; their intercourse was neither friendly nor frequent ; his counsels were no longer required ; and though he remained in office, he was in fact discarded. THE king's FIKST MINISTEES. 129 When the Parliament met, the practices of the Lord-Keeper, with some of the leading men in the Honse of Commons, had insured him a strong party. This party was an awful engine, which his potent hand might wield at a secret touch. The Lord- Keeper, observing the rising faction which had threatened to call him to account, in the very presence of the King, on the first day he delivered his official speech, — soon turned round. He knew the lawyers were more particularly vehement against a churchman holding the seals, which they deemed to be the privi- lege of their brotherhood. Williams, conscious that he himself was one of " the fatted calves " for sacrifice, directed the storm from bursting on his own head. By his reluctant confession it appears that he had held a secret intercourse with some of that party whom the courtiers called " the chief tribunes of the Par- liament." He urged them to look about for nobler game, " fitter for such hunters than a silly priest." The suggestion was not whispered to the deaf or the dumb. The hunters soon chased the Duke, and in the reaction the Duke chased the Lord -Keeper. Intriguers usually drink out of the same poisoned chalice. The betrayer of his patron, in his turn was betrayed by him whom he had patronised. This person was the famous Laud ; he for whom Williams had procured his first rochet, and who then declared that "his life would be too short to requite that goodness." This new Bishop, ere his linen robe had hardly fallen into its folds, within eighteen months of his gratitude, — so short is its term in politics ! — observing that his patron was incurring the anger of Buckingham, avoided the falling great- ness j while in that fall he meditated, night and day, on his own rise. If the worldly passions of a mere laic can work among churchmen at the distant prospect of a peaceable mitre, they rise with redoubled violence when churchmen are ministers of state, and ascend to pre-eminence in power by the dislodging of a rival. In this particular instance these passions so strongly affected the busy brain of Laud, that they painted their scenes in his very dreams. These he has superstitiously chronicled ; they were the terrors and the jealousies, the hopes and the pleasantness, of his political day.* * Certainly Laud had " an alacrity " at dreaming ; but at that day, which, in the annals of human nature, is not very distant from our own times, dreams — omens — , VOL. I. K 130 THE king's FIRST MINISTERS. At the accession of the new sovereign, the Lord-Keeper, ere he sunk on the arena, would wrestle with his mightier rival, the Duke. The young King was unhappily placed amidst the struggle, and had to choose between the cold policy of an artful statesman, whom his Father's wisdom had sanctioned, and the warmer influence of affection for the companion of his youth, and one on whom his hope now rested, as the hero and adminis- trator of his glory. apparitions, and a long train of vanished superstitions, were chronicled in diaries. I shall leave to the reflection of the reader those relating to his rival, the Lord- Keeper, Williams. Such dreams, combining politics and fancy, form a very enter- taining mode of writing secret history. " 1623. October 3, Friday. — I was with my Lord-Keeper, to whom I found some had done me some very ill ofi&ces. And ho was very jealous of L. B.'s (Lord Buckingham's) favour. " December 1 4, Sunday night. — I did dream that the Lord-Keeper was dead ; that I passed by one of his men that was about a monument for him ; that I heard him say, his lower lip was infinitely swelled and fallen, and he rotten already. This dream did trouble me. "December 15. — On Monday morning I went about business to my Lord Duke of Buckingham. We had speech in the shield gallery at Whitehall. There I found that the Lord-Keeper had strangely forgotten himself to him ; and I think was dead in his affections. " December 27, St. John's Day. — I was with my Lord of Buckingham. I found that all went not right with the Lord-Keeper, &c. " January 25. — It was Sunday. I was alone, and languishing with I know not what sadness. I was much concerned at the envy and undeserved hatred borne to me by the Lord-Keeper. "February 18, Wednesday.— My Lord Duke of Buckingham told me of the reconciliation and submission of my Lord-Keeper ; and that it was confessed unto him that his favour unto me was a chief cause. Invidia quo tendis? &c. At ille de novo fcedus pepigit. " March 1 7. — Lord-Keeper his complimenting with me." Three years after, his pohtical dreams of Williams followed fast on one another. " January 1 3, Saturday. — The Bishop of Lincoln desired reconciliation with the Duke of Buckingham, &c. ** January 14, Sunday. — Towards morning I dreamed that the Bishop of Lincoln came, I know not whither, with iron chains. But, returning, loosed from them, leaped on horseback ; went away ; neither could I overtake him." However Laud did overtake Williams some years after, and kept him in the Tower for three long years. March 27. — A certain person appeared to him who was dead, and, " whispering in my ear, told me that I was the cause why the Bishop of Lincoln was not again admitted into favour and to court." I have sometimes thought that some of these strange dreams were an allegorical representation of his own state of mind and circumstances, which he wished to con- ceal by this cryptical mode of writing. THE KINGS FIEST MINISTEES. 131 When Charles found that the inexorable Parliament would oflPer but scanty supplies, and that the contagion at London was spreading, he was at a loss how to act. To dissolve them was to leave himself amidst his utmost wants. Buckingham pro- posed to adjourn to Oxford ; but was immediately opposed by the Lord-Keeper, who advised the prorogation. "It was not," he said, " a change of place, but a change of time, to which the King might look for a favourable change; six months hence might alter the spirit of the Commons." The Duke, casting an angry glance on his opponent, impatiently cried out, that " Public necessity must guide us more than one man^s jealousy ! " On this the Lord-Keeper prayed the King for a private audience, which was granted. In this interview, Williams in- formed his Majesty that the Lord -Duke had enemies in the House of Commons, who had no other aim but to bring the Duke on the stage. " Let this malady, or malice, call it which you will, sleep till after Christmas. There is no time lost in whetting the scythe well. At that time I hope to give such an account, by managing the chief sticklers, that they shall abate their bitterness against your great servant, and your Councils shall be peaceable." The King was startled. This was probably the first moment that he learnt that a faction was formed against his minister and his friend. " Why," he asked, " do you conceal all this from Buckingham?" " Good Lord, Sir ! " was the reply, " fain would I begin at that end, but he will not treat me with moderation." It was obvious that the Lord-Keeper was now staking all his winnings on a single card, in a desperate game of political intrigue. He had succeeded in alarming the father, and now he hoped to lure the son into his tutelage. He failed with Charles, whose affections were too real to be shaken, and whose fears were not less genuine of trusting himself in the hands of a powerful intriguer. The Parliament, therefore, according to the advice of Buckingham, assembled at Oxford. Charles now expressed his disappointment at their ineffectual grant. Still no echo of sympathy responded in the House ! And now they asserted in a vain and quibbling manner, that. " this Parliament was not bound by another Parliament," and, k2 132 THE king's first MINISTERS. with a cruel mockery, suggested that " the King should help the cause of the Palatinate with his own money." The King in vain pressed for dispatch of business, lest the season should be lost for the navy; observing that, "it was the first request that he had ever made to them." The words " first request" had an instant effect on some few ; but his " poor Commons" offer their " dear and dread Sovereign" only protestations of duty, alarms of Popery, and petitions on grievances; a term which Coke acknowledged to be premature at so early a period of this reign. There were a few whose hearts had still a pulse to vibrate for a young Prince perplexed by a war which them- selves had instigated, and which, by having placed him at the head of a confederacy in Europe, had involved his own and the national honour in the awful issue. But "the chief sticklers," as the Lord-Keeper had called the rising opposition, and which afterwards he designated by a variety of denominations, as " the stirring men," — and "the dangerous persons of the House of Commons," — and " those disaffected persons who appeared so opposite to the royal ends" — these chief sticklers, when the pressing necessity of the times was urged, rejected Necessity as a dangerous counsellor, who would be always furnishing argu- ments for supplies. " If the King were in danger and neces- sity, let them answer for it who have put both King and kingdom into this peril." This oblique stroke, which aimed at the favourite, Charles resented, declaring his ignorance of the cause by which the Duke had incurred their dislike, — he whom, not long since, they had spoken of with the language of idolatry. The King, in despair, dissolved this uncompliant Parliament. To judge rightly of the feehngs of Charles at this moment, we must adopt them, in assimilating ourselves to him and to his situation. The writers of history are too apt to invest their per- sonages with all the knowledge, and make them influenced by all the views, which time unrolls in that vast commentary, which can only be opened for their posterity. It would not be difficult to account for the opposition to Government which had partly shown itself under James, but which started up so unexpectedly in the new reign, when Charles felt that he was abandoned by his Parliament. Although the Lord-Keeper had failed in the hardy attempt BUCKINGHAM — WILLIAMS. 133 to carry away the royal favour, lie had left behind him all the awfulness of a predictor. All things had occurred in the Oxford Parliament as he had anticipated. But the fulfilment of his prophecy was no consolation for the loss of his power. Williams summoned up his strength. One great last stroke seemed reserved. If he could not govern his royal master, might he not conduct the favourite by his hopes and his fears ? While the King and the Duke, disconcerted, were deciding on a dissolution of Parliament, at this very moment the Lord- Keeper, with all the devotion of ancient friendship, though unsent for, suddenly appeared before the Duke. The creature of his favour addressed his old patron. *' Your Grace made me, and I must and will serve you, though you are one who will destroy that which you made. I am as earnest as any friend your Grace hath, to save you from perishing. You brought the two Houses hither, my lord, against my counsel, and my suspicion is confirmed that your Grace would suffer from it. What 's now to be done, but wind up a session quickly ? Let the members be promised that they shall meet again after Christmas. Requite their injuries done to you with benefits, and not revenge ; for no man who is wise will show himself angry with the people of England. Fear them not when they meet again in the same body. I will instigate their ill affections ; if they proceed trust me with your cause ; and when it comes to the House of Lords, I will lay my life upon it to preserve you from the least dishonour." The haughty Buckingham felt the insult of equality of power ; and was indignant at the proffered protection of the political vassal, who had once professed ^^to love and hate as the Duke loved and hated ;" and who, in his letters, which I have seen, advising Buckingham to accept a place by which he would be always nearer the King, used this emphatic style: — "In your young, your middle, your decreasing age, be upon earth, as your piety will one day make you in Heaven, an ever- lasting favourite ! " Thus had spoken the sycophant. At the present moment the Duke started at the winding serpent which had once licked the dust, but which he now viewed climbing amid the topmost branches of the forbidden tree. Buckingham sent forth a mingled glance of anger and 184 WILLIAMS. contempt on Williams. " I will look whom I trust to/' exclaimed the Duke, and flung out of the chamber with a menacing countenance. It is evident that, by this master-stroke to inveigle the favourite into his net, the wily politician would have entangled the noble victim, either for his destruction or his subserviency, as his own superior genius willed. This political game for place and power was not played ill by the Bishop of Lincoln, although his lordship lost his stake. The Lord- Keeper perceived that his real power depended on its exercise in the House ; and that an opposition, presuming to act on popular principles, was the only means to balance the preponderating influence of the favourite, and to awe and over- shadow the Court. He therefore studied to flatter the Parlia- ment, and at that moment, he saw no danger in running all lengths with their accelerating pace : he had provided for them the State victim, whose head would save his own. He now aff'ected the highest reverence for Parliament, he entreated Charles not to break with them, that it might not disseminate unkindness through all the counties of his realm. He told the King, " the love of the people is the palladium of your crown. Continue this assembly to another session, and expect alteration for the better. If you do not do so, the next swarm will come out of the same hive." Such was the patriotism and sagacity of the Lord- Keeper ! Fenelon could not have expressed him- self with more political wisdom to his Telemachus; but so ambiguous is the character of the mere politician, that we must suspect the Lord- Keeper to have been a patriot out of pique, and wise from the spirit of opposition. We do not discover him the same under James, as he was under Charles. Not further back than three years, our Lord-Keeper did not profess this reverence for the House of Commons, nor this earnestness to prolong their sessions. Then the party with whom he now sided, were alluded to as " the spiders which infest that noble House of Commons, who convert the honey of his Majesty's letter into poison to feed upon." He then deemed their privi- leges to be only favours of former kings, and not their inherit- ance, or their birthright. Where were the Commons before Henry the First gave them authority to meet in Parliament ? i WILLIAMS. 135 and he advises that the King should " break up this Parliament without any prorogation, that the kingdom may know their undutifulness and obstinacy/^ and proposes that his Majesty should "supply the present wants by other means/' in a word, that the sovereign should make himself independent of Parlia- ment ! So diametrically opposite were the principles adopted by Williams, that the chance was equal on which side of the House he took his seat. The Lord- Keeper, in his dark and secret intercourse with the heads of the opposition, was like that lover who stole in the winter nights to his mistress till at length his footsteps were tracked in the snow. Buckingham had detected and reproached the insidious courtier, who could no longer deny that he was engaged with the Earl of Pembroke, and others, to labour the redress of the people's grievances, and concluded that " he was now resolved to stand on his own legs." — "If that be your resolution, look you stand fast ! " replied the Duke, and they parted. The Lord-Keeper now found it necessary to lay before Charles an account of " my carriage all this last Parliament." In this paper, he artfully declares that he never spake at Oxford with any of "the stirring men." These were they, whom he had formerly designated as "the sticklers." As he proceeds, how- ever, he excepts some. This paper was graciously received, and the fate of the Lord- Keeper was suspended. Meanwhile, as politicians in distress, like frightened mice, will creep into new corners, the Lord-Keeper now turned his views towards the Queen. He had ingratiated himself with her, on the occasion of the introduction of the bishops to her Majesty, by fascinating the young princess with a French oration, which he had most happily studied ; and by showing himself an active patron to her servants. This perfect politician had anticipated an influ- ence, which did not yet exist. It is a curious trait in the character of the sub dolous Williams, that, during the Spanish match, he applied himself to the Spa- nish language, and under his eye entertained a Spaniard to translate the English liturgy, and printing a limited number, presented them to the Court of Spain. Williams must have been enabled to taste the Spanish humour of Cervantes, for he 136 WILLIAMS. had sufficient time allowed him, during the Spanish match, to study his Don Quixote. On the appearance of the French match, the political bishop dropped the Spanish, and was as earnestly conning his French task — which he appears, however hastily he got through the grammar, and however unaccented his orthography, to have sufficiently well accomplished by the smiles of the French Princess. This perhaps is the only instance on record, where a learned Bishop learnt two languages — to cajole a Queen, and possess her ear by whispering in her own idiom. The Lord-Keeper was doomed to fall, but he was a body too weighty and considerable to be precipitated at a blow. His genius rebuked even the impetuous spirit of Buckingham ; nor was the elected counsellor of his father, whose mind seemed wisdom, and whose voice seemed prophecy, lightly reverenced by the royal son. Charles appears for some time to have been awed by the statesman, whom he equally feared to disgrace or to employ. The intended removal of the Lord- Keeper threw " the Duke's cabinet," as it was called, into a variety of dilemmas ; perhaps the greatest was the difficulty of framing some decent excuse for the act. They proposed his immediate dismission, on the plea of certain accusations, for which afterwards they were to look for their proofs in his conversations and his letters, both of which seem to have been occasionally free and pungent. This having reached the Lord -Keeper's ear, he let them know by a friendly messenger, that at the council-table, speaking in the style of the times, " He would not fly the tilt,"— but if they designed first to punish, and afterwards to judge a man, lie bade them have a care, lest such a preposterous course would not make every man in England feel himself in danger. The great- ness of Williams lay not in his place, but in his popularity ; and no one was yet found hardy enough to beard the lion in his lair. But Buckingham and Laud had not relented, and the King was urged to rid himself of one whom they considered as a communicator with his enemies, and whose counsels tended to lower his sovereignty. Once more, Williams, in a letter to the King, asserts that he could not have held any intercourse with those dangerous persons of the House of Commons — these were his WILLIAMS. 137 former " sticklers " and " stirring men " — and at the same time have concealed this intercourse in " a family of sixty persons/' of which his large establishment consisted. It is evident that Charles, notwithstanding the importunity of Buckingham, would not consent to dismiss the Lord- Keeper with any impeachment of his services. A less painful decline, a smoother passage, was to break the abruptness of the fall. At length a searching eye peered into a dormant resolution in council, which, whatever had been the occasion that gave rise to it, neither James nor Charles had thought on — that the Keeper of the Great Seal of England should not continue in that high office longer than a limited period, to be renewed every three years. On this principle, a message was conveyed by Lord Conway, to command the Lord-Keeper to deliver up the Great Seal at " Allhallow-tide,'' and a desire was intimated, that his lordship should retire to his bishoprick. The Lord-Keeper now read his fate. He fell with dignity, and made his terms. His firmness carried every point through- out the whole of this political transaction. He demanded to be admitted to a last conference with the King. Charles, who in more than one instance has shown that he was conscious of the infirmity of his own warm temper, declared that he would not, in conversation, assign any reasons for his lordship^s dismissal; and it seems that the King was troubled, lest this subdolous and eloquent man should shake his resolution. It was therefore preconcerted, as is not uncommon on such occasions, that this painful topic should not be touched on. A letter from Williams was presented to his Majesty after dinner, while the writer waited for an audience ; in this again he protests, that he was " as great a stranger as any lord who served his Majesty, to all those disaffected persons who appeared so opposite to the royal ends in the House of Commons" One more description of the rising opposition. The King admitted him into his presence, and twice held out his hand to kiss, granting all his requests, relating to his places and pensions, for which he betrayed great anxiety, and farther, the King renewed his promise of future church preferment. WilHams intreated the King would intercede for him with the 138 WILLIAMS. Lord Duke. Charles replied, " that it became not him, a King, to take up the quarrels between his subjects; nor had the Duke ever expressed such enmity in his presence." " Your Majesty," said the Lord-Keeper, " may hear reports of my dis- content, which I pray may not be credited, comfortable as I feel in your Majesty's favour." The King replied, that " he would do him that justice," adding, that " he little valued reports." Presenting his hand once more to the discarded statesman, the King dismissed him with a smiling countenance, and a cordial farewell. When Sir John Suckling brought the warrant to receive the great seal, Williams gave it with an unusual solemnity of form, which may account for Heylin's observation, that " it was un- willingly done." The dismissed Lord-Keeper inclosed the great seal in a costly cabinet in Sir John's presence ; but he refused to trust the key to Sir John's hand. Folding it up in a letter addressed to the King, he sealed it with the episcopal seal of Lincoln. This would appear to have been designed either as a reprimand for the inferior rank of the messenger, or as a last hint to the sovereign, that he should be cautious into whose hands he confided the custody. From that moment, with no diminished greatness. Bishop Williams retreated to the princely hospitality of his seat, where he busied himself in his studies and the cultivation of his grounds, and, at that day a novel taste, in forming a gallery of pictures. But his symposia attracted a closer observation from the freedom of his conversation, and some cursory strictures on the political movements of those inferior minds, who had ejected the master-spirit from their councils. Bishop Williams, great in his retirement, still presented the same object of uneasiness to the jealous Laud, who surrounded him with spies and eaves-droppers, too faithful reporters of the biting sarcasms of his late rival. Williams was teased by the petty persecutions of the irritable Laud. Their principles were for ever irreconcilable. These political rivals stood on the sharpest and the extremest points of opposition. Laud stigma- tised Williams as a Puritan ; Williams inveighed against Laud as a Papist : the limited capacity of Laud would have approached without uniting with the Church of Rome, and inculcated pas- THE CORONATION. 139 sive obedience ; the hardier character of Williams had cast him among the innovators of the age, with whom he went on, till he found that bishopricks were in danger : Laud detested Williams for his deficient zeal in church discipline, and Williams held Laud in contempt for his unstatesmanlike qualities. Often must Williams have remembered the prescient sagacity of James the First, when Laud was thrust on him by Williams himself and Buckingham : "Laud,^^ observed James, "is a restless spirit, to be kept back from all places of authority, for he cannot see when matters are well, but loves to toss and change and bring things to a reformation floating in his own brain." And when at length the old monarch, as was usual with him, yielded to their importunities, he exclaimed, " Take him to you, but on my saul you '11 repent it ! '^ This was not the only political prediction of his father which Charles lived to see verified. At length Williams overwhelmed Laud with all his learning, his wit, and his severity, in the volume which he published against him ; but the vindictive Laud, with a meaner victory, inflicted ruin on his antagonist in dragging him before the inquisitorial Star-chamber. Such mutual persecutions do the heads of parties endure from each other, — and so often do they involve the public in their private hatreds. CHAPTER IX. THE CORONATION : POLITICAL ETIQUETTE. At this gloomy moment the coronation was to take place. The King had been compelled to practise the most humiliating economy, and the coronation, as a contemporary letter-writer observes, seemed a private, not a public ceremony. The cus- tomary pomp of the procession from the Tower through the City to Whitehall was omitted ; the alleged reason was, " to save the charges for more noble undertakings,^' that is, for means to carry on the Spanish war without supplies. The Bishop of Lincoln, as Dean of Westminster, should have assisted at the service of the coronation, but receiving no summons to attend, he addressed his late patron. The corona- 140 THE CORONATION. tion had stirred a courtier's flame in a bosom still agitated by its reminiscences. The Bishop thus writes to the Duke — " Beseeching your Grace to revive a creature of your oum^ struck dead only with your displeasure, by bringing of me to kiss his Majesty's hand, with whom I took leave in no disfavour at all. I was never hitherto brought into the presence of a king by any saint besides yourself; turn me not over to offer my prayers at new altars.^' This last paragraph is an extraordinary amalgamation of flat- tery and menace, and the whole an example of that sycophantic blasphemy, which the court-bishops of that day carried to an incredible excess ; a perpetual blot on these political prelates ! Poets, mad with poverty and dedication, at all times have trans- gressed on decency and sense in their bribing panegyrics; but the present inflated court style in epistolary composition was not the natural style of that day, for the letters of Mede, and other contemporaries, to which I have so often referred, are examples of colloquial force and simplicity, free of those pedantic and far-fetched allusions. The bishop received a royal command to depute one of the prebendaries ; this, to use the quaint style of Heylin, " put him into some dispute with himself;" a dispute, however, from which he extricated himself with his usual prudence. As he did not care to honour his co-rival Laud, and as the putting him aside by electing another, might have gained him the ungracious reproach of malice, the Dean furnished his Majesty with a list of the prebendaries, that the King might make his own election. Laud was nominated. The coronation, it was imagined, would prove a joyous season, in an oblivion of all miscarriages, and a renewal of the loyalty of the people, whose imagination, awakened by their senses, would be struck by the hallowing ceremonies, and the binding oaths of that regal solemnity. But Fate had com- menced her work early with him who was to be crowned, and the scene which naturally tended to reconcile the popular spirit, aroused its jealousy under the conduct of Laud. It is a curious fact, that, among many things left unreformed by the Reformation, the forms and order of the coronation had retained the rites, the ceremonies, and the style of the Roman THE COEONATION. 141 Pontificals. Edward the Sixth and Elizabeth had been crowned after their predecessors' custom, and the coronation of James, which had been got up in haste, had retained many ceremonies of the old leaven. Charles, therefore, issued a commission that this solemn ceremony should be altered in happier accordance with the spirit of the Church of England. Alterations and additions were left to Laud. Among the innovations he restored a clause in a prayer, that " the King might have Peter's key of discipline, and Paul's doctrine." The clause had been omitted since the days of Henry the Sixth, as it seemed to confer a higher ecclesiastical jurisdiction on the sovereign than accorded with the Papal supremacy. As extremes of opposition at length meet when opposite means are pointing to the same end, and as under a different name the same thing may be concealed, so the Pontiff and the Presbyter, however they reverse each other's scheme, finally agree that the monarchs of the world are "to lick the dust of the feet of the Church." This restoration, therefore, now offended the Puritans as well as it had formerly the Papists. The jealousies of the Commons were awakened by another clause, in which Laud, placing the sovereign next to the Divinity, ranks the clergy in an odious pre-eminence over the laity, and exhorts the King to mediate between them. This imprudent division of subjects was not forgotten many years after, for, in the trial of Laud, the Long Parliament accused him of altering the coronation oath, and of conferring on the King absolute power, to the detriment of the people. Some persons at the coronation watched with jealous eyes, and listened with a malicious ear. Laud, having accidentally found an ancient cnrcifix among the antique regalia, which was always locked up with great secrecy in the abbey, and brought out on these occasions, and which consisted of the staff, the sword, the spurs, and the sceptre of Edward the Confessor — the Bishop displayed this ancient crucifix with great form on the altar, and this was alleged as evidence of a papistical prelate ! but in restoring that clause which transferred the Pope's supre- macy to the King as the Head of the Church, Laud had performed a Protestant's part. As this too was an age of omens, trifles as light as air were afterwards expounded into presages. The King's grave character 142 THE CORONATION. had already at the meeting of his Parliament given some indi- cations of that solemn dignity which would consecrate every great public ceremony — and in the present, contrary to the custom of his predecessors, who when crowned were clothed in purple, the King now appeared in white satin. Perhaps he fancifully considered that the day of his coronation was as the marriage of the sovereign with his people ; but the rejection of the regal purple for the robe of purity was variously com- mented on. Heylin, considering it ominous, as " fore-signifying that he should divest himself of his regal majesty, which might have kept him from afifront and scorn, to rely solely on the innocence of a virtuous life, which finally exposed him to cala- mitous ruin.^' A wing of the gold dove on the sceptre was discovered to be quite broken off, " by what casualty God him- self knows," observes Fuller, who calls the omen, " a maim on the emblem of peace." Another omen was the unlucky text of his chaplain, " I will give thee a crown of life." Apoc. ii. 10. This was thought to be a text reminding the King more of his death than his crown ; and the expounders of presages disco- vered, that it seemed " as if the King was to listen to his funeral sermon when he was alive, as if he were to have none when he was to be buried." Such was the temper of the age ; and though these, to us, are very foolish trifles, yet the modes of public feeling are to be recognised by them, as a straw or a feather, light as they are, serve to point the course of the wind, as much as the most elaborate weather-vane. The Queen refused to be present in the Abbey church at the ceremony of the coronation ; and the Marquis de Blainville, the French ambassador, who had recently arrived, had also excused himself. His motive was evident ; for though Blainville, among the apologies ofi'ered to the Master of the Ceremonies, had declared that, from respect to the King of England, he would have risked making a small breach in his conscience, being bound by his religion not to assist at our prayers and church ceremonies, yet it would be incongruous that he should be a spectator where the Queen, his master's sister, had excused her participation of the solemnity of crowning, and even her pre- sence ; and to this declaration he added, as he was perpetually POLITICAL ETIQUETTE. 143 doing throughout his short embassy, some captious '^ exceptions'' of etiquette. A place was offered to be fitted up for her Majesty, but she chose for her station the window of an apartment at the gate-house of the Palace-yard. The good Catholics made it a jour de fete ; the Queen and her ladies were seen "frisking and dancing in the room/' during the procession and on its return, in company with the Marquis, who attended not as ambassador, but in his private character. Henrietta was never crowned Queen of England ; and, for a long while, she did not seek to create popular favour by any appearance of public regard, estranged as were her tastes, her language, and her manners, from those of the people. The refusal of the French ambassador to be present at the coronation occasioned much inquiry. Was the spirit of Catho- licism implacable ? or was it the prognostic of a war ? In that golden age of court-etiquette, when the peace of empires some- times was disturbed by the jealousies of the drawing-room, this unexpected absence of the French threw into consternation the Venetian ambassador, who presumed to be his equal and his ally. This creature of etiquette, "tremblingly alive all o'er," breathed only by the nicest punctilios, and rested the glory, if not the existence of his republic, on the jealous maintenance of being considered pare alle teste coronate ; an unquestioned parity with crowned heads. When precedence becomes politics in the wars of peace, the diary of a Master of the Ceremonies becomes a record of mis- chances and misadventures, of despair and of stratagem, which must be consulted to be credited. A visit out of time, may be a visit never to be returned; an informal invitation may occasion a fit of indisposition -, or a reception at the stairs' -head, or at the door, may produce a protest or a remonstrance; and a political contest about a chair, or a stool, may open a campaign. It happened unhappily for our Venetian victim of etiquette, that he had recently been most deeply affected by an irregular invitation to the funeral of the late monarch. His Excellen- tissimo did not deny that he had received " the Blacks in the same full proportion for quality and goodness of cloth, as were sent to the two French ambassadors, who were then at the English Court." But Sir Lewis Lewknor, our first Master of 144 POLITICAL ETIQUETTE. the Ceremonies, was suspected to be of the Spanish faction, and not disinclined to put a slight on the jealous Venetian, who stood with the French. The two French ambassadors, the resident and the extraordinary, having inspected the programme of the procession, on a sudden changed their mind, and refused to assist at the solemnity. The Venetian, in consequence, was compelled to invent some excuse for his own absence, and, with Italian astuzia, he fell upon the Master of the Ceremonies for an informality : a message having been sent, which should have been personally dehvered. On this the remonstrance was so serious, and the Spanish partiality of Sir Lewis Lewknor so strongly insinuated, that to appease the Venetian, our Master of the Ceremonies was actually put under restraint, and suspended from his office. Yet the real cause of the Venetian's mortifica- tion, as the secret was rumoured among the diplomatic corps, was, that one of the French ambassadors could not stomach having a third person — and that, too, the Venetian ambassador ! — marching in even rank with the representatives of France. The Venetian, thus already too sensitive by the malice of a former French ambassador at the funeral, was now thunder- struck that the same affront had again been put on him at the coronation. This forlorn victim of political etiquette, in his dilemma, debated the whole affair with himself — " If the French ambassador be absent at the coronation, I cannot be present ; not from any scruples of conscience as the Frenchman pretends, for I must understand it as an act of state, and not of religion. I cannot appear by the side of the upstart ambassador of the new States, a power of yesterday I without incurring the odium not only of joining with a heretic, but with a man whom the Spaniard would not sit with in his Majesty's presence — a man whom he calls ' the representative of his Master's vassals and rebels.' " The affair ended miserably for the Venetian. He who would have died rather than have been seen in public violating a point of etiquette, now tried, by the connivance and aid of the assistant Master of the Ceremonies, to slink into some corner where, unseen, he might be present at the coronation ; but his late unrelenting persecution of the Master of the Cere- monies himself had extinguished all sympathy in the breast of the assistant, Sir John Finett, who observed, with equal judg- THE EXPEDITION TO CADIZ. 145 ment and malice^ that if he attended on the Venetian, his official character would betray his Excellency to be a public Minister; and as no man more learnedly than himself could decide in all punctilios, as indeed his Excellency had of late most memorably proved, he must excuse the assistant Master of the Ceremonies from doing that which might again bring the Master of the Ceremonies himself into disgrace. Such was the history of this forlorn victim of etiquette, who had to memo- rialise his Ducal Republic, that he was neither present at the funeral of the one King, nor the coronation of the other, — because from malice or design their French allies had hindered him from taking his station joare alle teste coronate. CHAPTER X. THE EXPEDITION TO CADIZ.— THE EARL OF WIMBLEDON. The first Parliament abandoned the King. Charles was left without other means to dispatch the army and fleet, in a late season, than by voluntary loans on privy seals. These were circular letters, in which were stated the name of the person to whom they were addressed, and the sum required from him, the amount varying according to his condition. They took their title from bearing the private seal of the King. When those who either delayed or excused themselves from complying with the request, discovered that they were reported to the Exche- quer, they were taught that when a king requests a voluntary loan, his request implies a forced one. It was undoubtedly the King's intention to pay ofl* the privy- seals by some future grant ; yet many considered that the next Parhament would not sanction the people giving what they themselves had denied. If the form of levying these contribu- tions at an immediate urgency was unpopular, yet it bore no character of tyranny. The loan exacted was as small as the style was humble. The privy-seals specified that — " This loan, without inconvenience to any, is only intended for the service of the public; such private helps for public services, which cannot be refused, had been often resorted to ; but this being the first VOL. I. L 146 THE EXPEDITION TO CADIZ. time that we have required any thing in this kind, we require but that sum tvhich few men would deny a friend" The claims on great personages did not exceed twenty pounds. The King was willing to suffer any mortification rather than endure the obdurate insults of the Parliament — even that of the mockery of an alms-basket ; for by letters of the time which I have seen, the charity of shillings was accepted ! With such trivial con- tributions, demanded with a warm appeal to their feelings, was the King to send out a fleet, with an army of ten thousand men. The political design of this expedition was to alarm the coasts of Spain ; and thus to draw to various points the forces of the enemy. " Our allies," says Buckingham, who opened his cabinet secret to the Commons, " can only scratch with the King of Spain, taking a town to-day, and losing it to-morrow ; now they will be strengthened by the dispersion of the Spanish power by land. By this kind of war you send no coin out of the land; you issue nothing but beef, mutton, and powder, and the kingdom is not impoverished, but may make good returns," — that is to say, let us wage a predatory war — hostilities so undefined in their nature, that our enemies formerly considered us as a people of pirates. Indeed the Minister lets us a little more into his secret hopes; let us listen to him. If it be asked "Where is the enemy? the King bids you name the enemy yourselves. As you issue nothing that is loss, so you will bring home something that is gain, and henceforward maintain the war by its perquisites. When the enemy is declared, you may have letters of marque, none shall be denied ; yourselves may go and have the honey of the business" It is said that an occa- sional Spanish war was always popular in this country; no doubt, for " the honey of the business" — when Spain had her galleons. Like many similar attempts from the days of Charles the First, to those of the great Lord Chatham, and to our own, this predatory attack concluded in a nullity. It is the consequence too of this principle of action, that such predatory expeditions instigate the enemy in return to menace our own shores. Ireland was now alarmed by invasion from a Dunkirk fleet, designing to land an army, in case they failed in a descent on some parts of the English coast. While we were THE EXPEDITION TO CADIZ. 147 hastening to attack Cadiz, London was in dismay ; " tlie trained bands were to be in readiness with complete armour, to march upon all alarms to what place soever/^ The history of this expedition offers no imperfect picture of what such enterprises have but too often proved. A veteran admiral, beloved by the seamen, put aside to make room for a chief commander unskilled in naval operations, raised an inextinguishable jealousy between the united services of land and sea. Each bitterly laid the fault of the failure on the other, but while they were retorting and recriminating, possibly neither party deserved the disgrace which they incurred by an ill-planned expedition. It was rashly determined to attack Spain, without having fixed even on a point. A plan of attack, drawn up by the old Admiral, Sir Robert Mansel, was not attended to, and he was removed from his command for Sir Edward Cecil, created on this occasion Earl of Wimbledon, and made Commander-in- chief. He was a military man who had grown grey in the wars of the Netherlands, but was totally unacquainted with naval operations. All our historians condemn this unlucky veteran, and agree with Dr. Lingard, that the public voice pronounced that he was unequal to so important a command ; but of what matter is the subject of this public voice often composed, and who are the utterers of this voice ? Perhaps this Earl of Wimbledon has received more than his share of the disgrace. Historians have usually neither space nor inclination for some necessary details. I shall give a series of absurdities, that are sometimes instructive as well as amusing — and they may teach a Commander-in-chief not to command those who have not yet learnt to obey. We may conceive the relaxed discipline of the army during a peace of twenty years. We had some able military men who had seen service under the New States of Holland. That young republic was a nursery for military adventurers ; but our soldiers and our seamen had long been unaccustomed to warlike enterprise. They were now hurried together to go on an unknown service, with little affection for the King or his Minister, who had never mixed in their ranks. The talk of the town ran on this mysterious l2 U8 THE EARL OF WIMBLEDON". design, while the Government seemed so destitute of adequate means, that the very household of the King was reduced to contribute its small savings. '^The beggarliness" of the march to Plymouth, which is the term Lord Wimbledon uses, was a popular subject of raillery. They were laying wagers that the fleet would not go, and they punned on the names of some captains, among whom were Bag, Cook, and Love; for which, said they, the fleet would not speed the better ; for they were Bag without money ; Cook without meat ; and Love without charity. It was also probable the party of the discarded Admiral, who were complaining of ^' young and single Council," alluding to the Duke — and Lord Cromwell, in a confidential letter, reported to him " the discourse of the world." If Buck- ingham went not out with the fleet, his personal bravery would be suspected; if it prospered, it would be thought no act of his ; if unsuccessful, the blame would be laid wholly on him. How the thoughtless Minister felt on this occasion we know not, but he was too far engaged to deliberate, and every day pressed for the departure of the fleet. The Commander-in-chief, from the first moment, despaired of success, and reluctantly complied with the desire of his royal Master, or rather his injudicious patron, the Duke. "This expedition I was content to take upon me, though against my judgment, as I did secretly deliver to his Majesty and your Grace before I departed from the coast." A character of hopeless indecision is fatal to military success ; but the veteran, who was now to be the victim, felt his dis- obedience to his Sovereign's command stronger than his own particular judgment. " I would rather have been torn in pieces than to have gone with so many ignorant and malicious people." The truth is, the opposition party was already formed, before they set sail, and the deepest anxiety and incessant occupation clouded over the faculties, or exhausted the frame of the despair- ing Commander-in-chief. "When my adversaries slept I waked, when they made good cheer I fasted, and when they rested I toiled." At length eighty ships, with ten regiments of a thousand men each, sailed from Plymouth. A storm disperses them. When they collect, a council of war is held to fix on a point of THE EARL OP WIMBLEDON. 149 attack, for their instructions left tliem at liberty to choose. The Duke and his council left all things to chance; this was not a greater evil than the blunders they had unwarily com- mitted ; had they taken on themselves to prescribe the course the fleet was to have pursued, they might not have blundered less. The Earl of Essex, Vice- Admiral, warned by the glory his father had won at Cadiz, deemed it right for him to attack the Spanish fleet ; but difi&culties were started, and they debated so long, that the coast had time to be alarmed. The Earl of Essex, we are told by some, wished to attack the Spanish fleet; but Lord Wimbledon is surprised '^that the Earl is not called into question for letting pass the King of Spain's ships that offered him fight." Probably some heroes are disposed for fighting at one hour, and not at another. It is agreed that the ships in the port of Cadiz might have been taken, the Dutch ships, which had leagued with us on this occasion, were not wanting, but twenty English ones never stirred. Wimbledon asserts, that he has proved several persons guilty, whom he could never get examined by the council. Wimbledon went personally from ship to ship to enforce his commands. A body of seamen were landed with difficulty, but being resisted, they retreated. Sir John Burroughs, one of our ablest officers, who was afterwards fated to perish in another expedition, at the head of his regiment, attacked and carried the fort of Puntal. The troops now landed ; and the only enemy they had to encounter were the wine-cellars of Cadiz. Every man was his own vintner, as a contemporary expresses it ; and had the fugitive Spaniards returned on such invaders, they had found an easy conquest. The Commander-in-chief had published his orders expressly to warn them of the Spanish wines, but his undisciplined troops had not yet been habituated to the severity of orders from head- quarters, and the General gladly re-shipped his bacchanalian troops — no ships were burnt in the harbour — and they left the coast of Spain in no worse condition by their inroad, than what the morning showed the Spaniards in a vast number of empty casks. Their intemperance was punished by sickness, which spread 150 THE E^VEL OF WIMBLEDON. in the ships — and by the ingenious contrivance of taking two sick men out of the sick ships to supply their places by two sound men, they propagated the contagion through the whole fleet. They lay in wait twenty days for the Plate-fleet, which either passed in the night-time, or the day after they sailed ; they could no longer keep their station, and returned to Ply- mouth with the loss of a thousand men, not occasioned by the enemy. The Earl of Wimbledon was for a considerable time denied the King's presence. An inquiry was opened to crimi- nate the military veteran, — journal was opposed to journal — opinions of landsmen were given on seamen, and of sailors on the tactics of the military. " He that comraandeth is but one man, and the rest are many thousands " — pathetically exclaims this hapless Commander-in-chief — and he has declared that "many who should have assisted me, were more careful in betraying me than in forwarding his Majesty's service." This inquiry, like so many others of the kind, got more intricate and confused the farther they proceeded ; accusers were themselves accused — witnesses were themselves criminals. In the cross interests of parties, one shielded the guilty, and the other aspersed the innocent. All parties were blamed, but none could be punished. So unhappily for the feelings of the youthful monarch, termi- nated his first great enterprise. Glory had been changed into dishonour ! Scarcely had a few months elapsed since he was seated on the throne ere he was doomed to taste that bitterness of government which sickens the secret heart of majesty. Already thorns were in the ermine of his crown — and although he had not himself committed a single censurable act, yet he had found a Parliament hostile to the purposes for which they had clamoured — an army disorganised — a navy discontented — the afi'ections of the people declining. His partial hope was still leaning on Buckingham, while he was looking for his urgent wants to be supplied by those who were intent to refuse their aid I There were greater evils in futurity I THE SECOND PARLIAMENT. 151 CHAPTER XI. MEETING OF THE SECOND PARLIAMENT. — THE CONTENTION BETWEEN THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM AND THE EARL OF BRISTOL. From the commencement to the disastrous termination of the ill- concerted and ill-conducted expedition to Cadiz^ which from the destitution of Parliamentary supplies had been hastened by the most disorderly ways, Buckingham had been absent from England, actively negotiating in person at the Hague with the northern powers, a treaty respecting the restoration of the Palatinate, the incessant object of popular clamour, and for neglecting which the pacific counsels of the late Monarch had been reproached with pusillanimity. Now the scene had changed. A spirited and enterprising young Prince, under the influence of the Minister whom he loved too well, and the Minister under the influence of popular feeling, which he too vainly courted, had adopted rather the politics of the Enghsh public, than the policy of the English Cabinet. Buckingham, on his return from Spain, had been saluted as " the saviour of his country,^^ and there was nothing this warm and volatile man aspired to more ardently than popularity. Buckingham was in earnest, for it was in a stormy season, and in considerable peril, losing a vessel in the passage, that he had reached the Hague to hasten the treaties by his own personal zeal. After a month^s absence, he returned home to witness the most sudden mutabiHty of his fortune ! All his anxieties, his official labours, and according to his statement, large sacrifices of his private fortune had been devoted to this disastrous expe- dition, and now he had to encounter a more unexpected storm than that which had dispersed the fleets, and which, as sudden, but more terrible, was to overwhelm the Minister. It is probable that a party against the Royal favourite had been silently forming, and now found a voice in his ill-fortune ; but it seems that the overt personal attacks came unexpectedly. 152 THE SECOND PARLIAMENT. Whatever the world thought, Buckingham in his own mind felt the change that was prepared for him undeserved, and this feeling is finely touched on by Sir Henry Wotton. " It could not but trouble him the more by happening when he came freshly returned out of a meritorious employment in his inward conceit and hope."* Buckingham found that he was even reproached for not having himself taken the command of the army and navy, and the Lord High Admiral and Commander- in-chief was accused of sparing his person from an ignoble motive. Sir John Eliot taunted him in the House when he said, " the Lord-General has the whole command both by sea and land, and can this great General think it sufiicient to put in his deputy, and stay at home? " The intrepidity and daring of Buckingham yielded to no man's, as was afterwards proved. Charles knew that in this respect the character of his friend was unjustly aspersed, and the King did not wish to see his Minister's courage put to the test, when the venture was not absolutely required; but it was probably the bitter taunt of Buckingham's unsparing enemy, soon echoed by the public, which induced the Duke to take the command in person in his future fatal expeditions. Buckingham had a foresight of the approaching Parliament. He took certain precautionary measures, and was particularly desirous of keeping out of the House his future great opponent, Sir John Eliot, among others. Bishop Williams, who was always stirring at a crisis, though now in disgrace at Court, pretended that, in communicating with Buckingham's enemies, he was warding off the threatened attacks of a barking oppo- sition. It was, however, a dubious argument which he urged to protect the Minister, repeatedly reminding the party, that when " a beast got into the midst of a field of wheat, if the neighbours ran in and hunted it about with their dogs, they would run down more corn than five beasts could devour." Williams well knew, that the simile was no argument for " the dogs" themselves. With the Duke's friends he used another counsel. He urged them to advise the Duke to retire to some great embassy, " as distant as that of Vienna, if he durst trust • Conceit here means idea. BUCKINGHAM AND BRISTOL. 153 the King of Spain^s nearest ally." To them Williams's advice seemed but an ambiguous friendship, as if this politic genius looked to clear the stage, and himself again to play a part to which he had been long used. Charles summoned his second Parliament, as he said, '^ in the midst of necessities," and to learn from them " how he was to frame his course and councils." To induce their compliance for immediate supplies, he laid before the Commons the most urgent reasons. " The unseasonable slowness may produce as ill effect as a denial," said the message. The Commons, as duteously as ever, profess that "no King was ever dearer to his people, and that they really intend to assist his Majesty in such a way as may make him safe at home and feared abroad." They acknowledge — and this point has not been sufficiently observed — that "they will support that cause wherein your Majesty and your allies are now justly engaged." They sanction the principles and the design of the war entered into, while they pertinaciously are withholding the necessary supplies ! Before the supplies, the King was first to accept the informa- tion and advice of Parliament in discovering the causes of " the great evils, and redress their grievances." The King accepted this " as a satisfactory answer," and thanked them for it. In regard to grievances, Charles said, " for your clause of presenting of grievances, I take that for a parenthesis and not a condition ; apply yourselves to redress grievances, but not to inquire after grievances." The fact was, that the Commons were preparing an impeachment of his Minister; and the King's style first betrays angried feelings. " You specially aim at the Duke of Buckingham ; I wonder what hath so altered your afi'ections towards him." Charles felt that the Commons designed to control the Government itself: and in his view, he could only ascribe their antipathy to Buckingham to the capriciousness of public favour and to the envy of a few. The Commons had now begun to practise the refined art of voting supplies, without giving them. They were to be received virtually on some " condition ;" thus avoiding the term to which the King objected, but not the practice. The aff"air, however, was not long doubtful. Dr. Turner, a 154 THE SECOND PARLIAMENT. physician^ a class of men which it is unusual to find in Parlia- ment, was chosen for the onset against the Duke. There were also rumours of a close intelligence, which had for some time been kept up with certain persons in the Upper House. Dr. Turner adopted an extraordinary mode for impeaching the Minister ; or, as the King described it, " The House had emboldened one to do a strange act in a strange way." He drew up six queries. They were soon commonly called " Buck- ingham's Queries." Their object was, to inquire if the Duke were not the cause of the six monstrous grievances therein specified ? concluding, that " all these were famed to be so." This led to a singular debate, where " common fame and rumour" were separated by a curious distinction. "The general voice, the vox populi is common fame ; and if common fame might not be admitted as an accuser, great men would be the only safe men ; for no private person dare venture to inquire into their actions." The House resolved, that " common fame is a good ground of proceeding for this House, whether by inquiring or presenting the complaints to the King and Lords." This was a bold and novel principle. Thus a Minister wjis liable to be impeached merely on rumours, which Parliamentary philology had discriminated by its own dictionary of synonyms. It is, however, rather curious to observe, by the "remonstrances" of the Commons, that they did not think that "rumours" against themselves should be thus elevated into evidence. They close their remonstrance by " beseeching that his Majesty would not give ear to the officious reports of private persons for their own ends." Were the Commons certain that the reports which they themselves so eagerly adopted, might not also have originated in private persons for their own ends ? Some of " the bold speakers," as the heads of the opposition are designated in the private letters of the times, had now risen into notice. They poured themselves forth in a vehement, not to say, seditious style, with more daring invectives than had ever before thundered in the House of Commons. The party against the Duke had now found a voice. One had declared that the cause of all the grievances, as was said of Louis the Eleventh of France, is, that " all the King's council rides on one horse." BUCKINGHAM AND BRISTOL. 155 Charles now sent for both Houses to meet him at Whitehall. Thanking the Lords for their care of the kingdom, he was sorry he owed no thanks "to their fellow-house of the Commons." " I must tell you, that I am come here to show you your errors, and as I may call it, unparliamentary proceedings in this Par- liament ; but I do not despair, that this Parliament shall end comfortably, though, at the beginning it hath had some rubs.^^ The King left to the Lord-Keeper to say the rest. His lordship assured them, that " when the irregular humours of some par- ticular persons were settled, the King would hear and answer all just grievances ; but the King would have them also to know that he was equally jealous of the contempt of his royal rights, which his Majesty would not sufier to be violated by any pre- tended course of parliamentary liberty." The King considered the Parliament as his council ; but there was a diflFerence between councilling and controlling, and between liberty and the abuse of liberty. He particularised their conduct in sanctioning the strange unparliamentary way of Dr. Turner, who, without any ground of "knowledge in himself, advised the House to inquire concerning the Duke of Buckingham, — it was an example which the King could not suffer, though it were against his meanest servant. His Majesty wondered at the foolish insolency * of that man who could think that his Majesty should be drawn out to offer such a sacrifice so unworthy of a king or a good master." The Lord-Keeper closed by observing, that his Majesty " holds as insufferable" that they had signed a warrant for the signet- office to produce their records, books and private notes — made for his Majesty's service. The King resuming his speech, remarkably reproached the Commons. " Now that you have all things according to your wishes, and that / am so far engaged, that you think there is no retreat, now you begin to set the dice and make your own game. It is not a parliamentary way, nor is it a way to deal with a king. Mr. Clement Coke told you, ^ It was better to be eaten up by a foreign enemy, than to be destroyed at home.' Indeed I think it more honour for a king to be invaded and almost * This expreBsion indicated a personal feeling of the King's, which I shall notice hereafter. 156 THE SECOND PARLIAMENT. destroyed by a foreign enemy, than to be despised by bis own subjects." * There was a lofty tone in this reprimand, ill-adapted to soothe the inimical and jealous spirits which had to listen ; it was indeed the indignant voice of Sovereignty in its wounded feelings — and since Mr. Clement Coke had elevated the tone of debate into something like heroism, it was not irrelevant in Charles, in the exultation of his emotions, to have responded by a sentiment equally heroict But there was a sting in the close of this address, Avhich reminded them that " Parliaments are altogether in my power for their calling, sitting, and dissolution ; therefore, as I find the fruits of them good or evil, they were to continue, or not to heP He finally conjured them " to look to the distressed affairs of the kingdom, so they would do themselves honour, and he hoped that all Christendom shall feel the good of it." The Commons retreated after their lecture, closed their doors, and debated in an open committee, on certain parts of these speeches. Whether they dwelt on those ominous words, or not to be, (the germ of the civil wars,) does not appear by their " Remonstrance." All that we know is, that Charles commanded * That the reader may have a specimen of that sort of comment with which the preconceived notions of party-writers have always so cruelly treated the memory of this hapless Prince, I shall give the remarks of Mr. Brodie upon this passage ; and if the reader admire either the discernment or the feehngs, he will thank me for informing him that he may find a hundred similar instances in the greater portion of Mr. Brodie's pages. This writer says, " By stating, that he thought it more honour for a king to be invaded and almost destroyed by a foreign enemy, than to be despised by his own subjects, he distinctly declaredy that in his opinion he reigned for himself alone, and not for the benefit of his people, whose utmost miseries, for they must suffer the evils to which he alluded, were in his idea trivial, in comparison of his being crossed in his arbitrary measures." — ii. 104. + The Commons deny that these were the express words of Mr. Coke — that he spoke nothing seditious, " howsoever he let fall some few words whereat the House being displeased, it was expressed by a general and instant check." Charles was then more right in the spirit than in the letter ; but to have produced " a genei-al and instant check " from the House, — that is from the majority, who were not yet seasoned by the party, — it is not impossible that Mr. Coke may have delivered something worse than what had been conveyed to the King. We learn from another quarter, that Sir Edward Coke reprimanded his son very severely for his words, and would not receive him for a considerable time after. (Carte, iv., 156.) The Commons' denial of the King's accusation altogether was unworthy of tliemselves.— Thus it happened also on a subsequent occasion. BUCKINGHAM AND BRISTOL. 157 the Duke to explain some misunderstandings to which his lan- guage on this occasion had given rise ; this Buckingham did in a most conciliatory speech, and by the King^s command informed them that his Majesty intends to trust to a committee of both Houses to take a view of his whole estate, " the defects of which are not fit for the eyes of a multitude, nor any weakness that may bring shame upon us abroad/^ The personal distresses of the monarch were humiliating, whatever might be his style. Buckingham took this opportunity of addressing them on his own behalf. He gave them an ample account of his arduous negotiations ; of his suspected religion, which, had he had any ill inclinations, might have allowed him to have been tempted by the offers made him in Spain. He assured them that nothing was adopted by single counsels, and for the proof appealed "to a journal which my Lord Conway keeps," * and that if the late expedition had proved unsuccessful, it had not been without its use. There is an apparent openness in the speech, which gives a favourable idea of the man. It might have been a premeditated address, and perhaps was written for him, which was not unusual; but the sentiments were his, and could only have originated in his instructions. He speaks of himself not without modesty : " I should be glad, before I end, to say something of myself; but I shall request your favourable construction, for I fear that I shall offend." — " If in any of these employments my errors may be showed me, I shall take him for my best friend that will manifest them in particular. I have bent all my thoughts on nothing but my master's honour, the service of the State, and safety of them both. I never had any end of my own, and that may be perceived and proved by the expense of mine own estate. I am ashamed to speak it, and it would become another man's tongue better than mine own." But " his own estate" had entirely been derived from the prodigal favours heaped on him by his royal master. This is obvious ; but what is not obvious, and which I am anxious shortly to show, is, that Buckingham was zealously active for public ends, and that the * This " Journal " has not escaped the ravages of the steward, the cats, and the rats, who committed such depredations on the Conway Papers. I could not discover it among them. 158 THE SECOND PARLIAMENT. favourite was in earnest to merit the honours of a patriot. At his deathj his family discovered that he had supplied unlimited sums to the King to aid him in carrying on the war, amidst the royal distresses, and had kept no vouchers or any accounts whatever. " I am accused by common fame to be the cause of the loss of the narrow seas. I have always had twelve ships on the coasts, and allowance but for four — ^the rest my own care supplied. " When you know the truth, and when all shall appear, I hope I shall stand right in your opinions. It is no time to pick quarrels one with another — follow not examples. Gondomar and Inojosa would have had my head when you thought me worthy of a salute. Now, though I confess there may be some errors I will not justify, yet they are not gross defects as the world would make them appear. They are no errors of wil- fulness, nor of corruption, nor oppressing of the people, nor injustice." " Now, gentlemen, you that were eminent Parliament- men when this council was first given, make good your own engage- ment for the honour of your King and your own safety ; and you that are young men in these active times, gain honour and reputation, which is almost sunk in the glory of your predecessors." There was a spirit in this address designed to infuse confidence among those who could feel none in the mercurial Minister. Neither the King's explanation, nor the Minister's conciliatory tone, delayed the articles which the Commons were preparing against him, while at the same moment Buckingham witnessed a rising adversary in one whom of all men he most dreaded, — the Earl of Bristol. He had hitherto succeeded in removing this nobleman to a distance from the Court. The quarrel of two jealous and powerful Ministers, both entangled in the most intricate and the darkest of negotiations, as the Spanish match still remained to all the parties concerned, was now to close in a fierce encounter a I'ouirance, armed by mutual impeachments. The Earl of Bristol, on his return from Spain, had been unquestionably estranging the late Sovereign's affections from the favourite. James had called the Earl " an honest man BUCKINGHAM AND BRISTOL. 159 whom lie would answer for/^ The death of James occurred at a critical hour. Buckingham^ on his side, had early indisposed the tender mind of the young Prince against Bristol, and he had directed all the royal influence to keep Bristol in restraint. Two years had now elapsed since the Earl of Bristol had sufi*ered the exile of retirement, and that repose, if exile can be repose to a discarded Minister, was only conditional, that he should " sit still without being questioned for any errors past " in the Spanish negotiation. The present moment seemed favourable to any design against the favourite. Bristol broke the silence of two years by claim- ing his seat in the House. The Earl now decided to appeal to Parliament in vindication of his honour, and to throw off the political imprisonment, so long endured under the disguise of domestic privacy. A struggle ensued between the King and the Earl. Charles issued his writ to summon him to Parliament, in compliance with the desire of the Lords, who asserted their privileges, but at the same time insisted that he should forbear his personal attendance, in compliance with the condition of his former restriction. Bristol's resolute decision, to take his place in the House of Lords, was remarkable. It was therefore on this occasion that Buckingham showed the Lords the copy of a letter to the Earl of Bristol, in which the King himself, in unqualifled terms, criminated the Earl for his conduct in Spain, and by which the Lords were to infer that Bristol was put in restraint for State affairs. Bristol then petitions to be heard in accusation of Bucking- ham. Instantly the Earl is himself charged with high-treason. The artifice of preventing a blow by inflicting one, was defeated by that perfect indifference in the House of Lords, which seems to have divided them by an equal interest for both the rival ministers. They therefore agreed to hear each cause in succes- sion. By this means the accusations of one delinquent would not prevent the accused from making the accuser an equal delinquent; the criminations and recriminations of two great ministers would furnish all that fuller information and enter- tainment which both their Lordships and the public were quite prepared to expect. Buckingham, who had hitherto succeeded in keeping Bristol ICO THE SECOND PARLIAMENT. in restraint, and absent from Parliament, well knew that the dignified character of the Earl would shake his lighter and vacillating conduct in public opinion. He feared the tale which yet remained untold ; not the perplexed narrative of the Spanish match, which it would be more easy to contradict than to com- prehend, nor the charge, that for the purpose of gratifying his own passion he had raised the Spanish war, conscious that Charles would sanction the whole, and that the Parliament would not care to look too scrupulously into a w^ar of their own choice. In truth, whatever secret motive Buckingham might have indulged in a war with Spain, he well knew that he was acquiring popularity by humouring the present temper of the nation. It was another tale than all this which the Duke feared — the history of himself ! The indecorous carelessness of the favourite had held in scorn all prescribed modes of conduct in life, and in diplomacy ; there was too a tenderness sore to touch in the religion of Buckingham ; for, though James had furnished him with the result of Protestant arguments, he con- fessed that the Duke could not retain the arguments themselves, and though Laud, by hard conferences, steadied him from back- slidings, it was credited that a certain bigoted Romanist, under whose influence he often acted, had more secret influence than the polemical Sovereign, or the casuistical Archbishop — the old lady, his mother, who could not conscientiously sufl'er her son to stray from the only infallible Church. Bristol charged Buckingham with being " popishly aff'ected, absenting himself from all exercises of religion in the Earl's house, frequented by all Protestants, and conforming so closely to the rites of the Spanish religion, as to kneel and adore their sacrament, endeavouring to procure the Prince's conversion by all possible means, and receiving a bull in parchment from the Pope, to thank him, and to encourage him in the perversion of the Prince." To all these allegations, Buckingham might have replied that he was only practising a deception on the Spaniard, which might assist in hastening the torpid negotiation. But he could not have pleaded as successfully for " the scandal given by his personal behaviour, things neither fit for the Earl of Bristol to speak, nor indeed for the House to hear, however he leaves BUCKINGHAM AND BEISTOL. 161 tliem to your lordships' wisdom how far you will be pleased to have them examined." Bristol, and, indeed, all Madrid, had been as watchful as they were cruel observers of Buckingham's indecencies and eccentri- cities ; and this great statesman has condescended to furnish himself with a Chronique Scandaleuse, a diary of licentious follies, supplied by the domestic, spies of a most inconsiderate master. One of these communications ^extsts. Whoever will examine the elaborate articles of the Attorney- General against the Earl of Bristol, formidably classed into " offences before his Majesty's going into Spain, at the time of the Prince's being in Spain, and after the Prince's return," and the replies of Bristol to each article, minutely curious, will have before him one of the most extraordinary documents of the perversity of the human understanding, and the mysterious complexity of human events. According to Bristol, the Court of Madrid were at first not sincere in their propositions, but at the end they became so ; but when we find such perpetual misun- derstandings requiring explanation, where so much was said which was never meant, so much done which remained to be undone, when the most equivocal language and the most sus- picious actions were to be commented on at a distant day, we are not surprised that each party looked on these strange transactions according to his own particular view, and accounted for them on very opposite principles. But what is starthng is the direct contradiction of facts asserted by one party, and denied by the other. Where the accusations are positive, and each accuses the other of doing the very thing he is himself taxed with, we start at the hardihood of perjury, or we may suspect that both parties are alike criminal. The Earl is accused of offering to concur with the Prince in his presumed conversion to the Roman faith. At the Prince's first coming to the Earl, he asked the Prince for what he came thither? The Prince at first, not conceiving the Earl's mean- ing, answered, " You know as well as I." The Earl replied, " Sir, servants can never serve their masters industriously, although they may do it faithfully, unless they know their meanings fully. Give me leave, therefore, to tell you what they say in the town is the cause of your coming — that you mean to VOL. I. M 162 THE SECOND PARLIAMENT. change your religion, and to declare it here, and yet cunningly to disguise it." The Earl added, " Sir, I do not speak this to persuade you to do it, or that I will promise you to follow your example though you do it ; but, as your faithful servant, if you will trust me with so great a secret, I will endeavour to carry it the discreetest way I can."* At this the Prince expressed his indignation, and, as appears by the Earl's answer, asked " what the Earl saw in his Majesty, that he should think him so unworthy as to change his religion for a wife, or any earthly respect whatever?" And the Attorney- General goes on to show the treason of the minister, in the dangerous consequences of his conduct to the true religion and to the State. The Earl, in reply, does not deny the charge, which, says he, refutes itself; for he exultingly points out that he, at that very moment, had declared himself a Protestant. The truth is, that on the portentous arrival of the Prince with his companion, there was a general rumour among the Spaniards, that Charles came to make his conversion. This seemed to be a State secret, which the jealousy of Bristol attempted to fathom, and, in secrecy, he tampered with the Prince to start a discovery, with all the guarded caution of a sage politician, by which conduct he had not compromised himself, while at the same time, whether the Prince were Catholic or Protestant, he had equally offered to exert, on his side, the same unalterable zeal. 4 ' The Earl of Bristol was an able single man in the Cabinet, but the tumult and passion of the Senate disturbed the gravity and reflection which he had, perhaps, contracted from his long residence at the Court of Madrid. Hence his famous son. Lord Digby, we are told, looked on his father with more afiPection than respect, and as this son, in his versatility of opinions, came round to astrology and Catholicism, it has been suspected that the Earl of Bristol was himself inclined to the religion of Spain. Some persons contract more local habits than they are aware of. But it was the political creed of Bristol which was most relaxed, or rather enlarged, and which occasioned at times some ambiguous conduct and language which a rigid Protestant might suspect. He once advised a bold measure, when he * Rushworth, i. 252. BUCKINGHAM AND BEISTOL. 163 recommended that the young Palatine, Charles's nephew, should be educated in the Roman Catholic Court of the Emperor, in order that a royal marriage might conciliate two opposite interests ; and when Sir Walter Aston, in a passion, declared that, " He durst not for his head consent to any such proposal Bristol replied, that he saw no great inconvenience in it ; the Prince might retain his religion ; and without some such great action, it was desperate to hope for the peace of Christendom. This great statesman had an odd notion respecting the state of Protestantism in his day. He declared that "conscience, and love to truth only, not any temporal respects, made men constant to the Protestant religion — for that they suffered too much, which was to their honour," and he was fond of repeating James's observation, that " he was the true martyr that suffered more for his religion than all the princes of Christendom besides," which he could instance in various ways. As mere political men, in balancing opposite interests when a great design is in hand, have not always dis- criminated the fine shades of conviction, these calamities of Protestantism sounded suspiciously from the lips of the states- man, and it might seem dubious, had Charles been a converted Eomanist, whether the minister who offered to remain equally zealous, might not have slided over like his son. The Earl is positively accused by Charles not only of cqu- curring with Charles's presumed conversion, but of enforcing-it by pointing out to him its conveniences, it being impossible to effectuate any great purpose by other means. In what degree Spanish politics might mingle with English Protestantism in the breast of this able statesman, it might have been difficult even for himself to have discerned. The wisdom of a statesman was wrestling with the faith of a martyr. But assuredly it might have been expected that a zealous Protestant would not have advanced so far in such arguments, and that his indigna- tion at this treason of loyalty in an English sovereign might have overcome the cold policy of the statesman, which, to say the least, had too evidently characterised these secret conferences.* * Mr. Hallam acknowledges that « the Earl of Bristol might be more partial to Spain than we may think right, or even he might have some bias towards the M 2 164 IMPEACHMENT OF BUCKINGHAM This Earl offers a curious evidence of the variable conflict of politics and religion in the same breast. In my own mind I entertain no doubt of the Protestantism, perhaps weak, of Bristol : he gave the Parliament the most ample testimonials from his earliest days and through his whole conduct in Spain ; and Fuller has distinguished him, probably from his own testi- mony, as " a stout champion of the Church of England." But, be it remembered that the Digbys were a family of Romanists, and that their historian, Dodd, has inscribed the name of this Earl of Bristol in his catalogue, with a remark, that '' though he was always a Protestant, yet he discovered himself both in the treaty of the Spanish match, and on several occasions, to be no enemy to the Catholic interest." * CHAPTER XII. IMPEACHMENT OF BUCKINGHAM BY THE COMMONS. After the maturing silence of two years, Bristol could bring forward against Buckingham nothing but vilifying personalities, more adapted to supply the month's talk of news-writers and gossippers, than to furnish an Attorney- General with articles of high treason. A parliamentary anecdote on this occasion has come down to us. When the Earl of Bristol had ended his charge against religion of Rome. The last, however, is by no means proved, for the King's word is no proof in my eyes." Mr. Brodie is blamed by Mr. Hallani for his severe attack on Bristol ; the acknowledgment of the veracity of Charles would assist Mr. Brodie's arguments, nevertheless he could not let slip this opportunity of throwing great doubts over the royal honour. " It is impossible to determine what degree of credit is due to the statement." Yet probably overcome for a moment by the very conviction which I feel myself, Mr. Brodie adds, " though it is amazing to think, that a person in his elevated sphere should have had the frontless assurance to accuse one of his subjects to his face of such an offence, without foundation." Amazing indeed, because it seems to me impossible/ I shall never believe that Charles was capable of the guilt of inventing an entire confereace, particular in its detail and express in its language ; particularly as we find from other sources that Bristol entertained in other instances the same equivocal notions and conduct. * Dodd's Church History of England, ii. 357. BY THE COMMONS. 165 Buckingham, Lord Spencer rising, inquired, " Is this all you have to say against the Duke ? " " Yes, my Lord, and I am sorry it is so much." "Then,^' rejoined Lord Spencer, ''if this be all, ridiculus mus ! " and sat down. Lord Cromwell hastened to Mr. Richard Spencer, the younger son of his lordship, and who was zealously acting with the party in the Commons against the Duke, " Dick, what is done in your house to-day against the Duke ? " " My Lord, he is charged with no less than high treason.^^ — " High treason ! tush Dick ! if this be all, ridiculus mus ! "* This humorous application of Lord Cromwell's seems like a comment on the opposite politics of the father and the son ; but it is not quite evident which side the humourist himself would have adopted. A theme of loftier interest, an accusation far more solemn, where orators were to be the witnesses, and public opinion the tribunal, were now to open for the sovereign and the minister, in the impeachment of the favourite by the Commons. But the Commons did not come forward, as is admirably remarked by Hume, to accuse Buckingham for his conduct in the Spanish treaty. They approved the Spanish war too well to quarrel with its origin. Its object was English, for it was to wrest the Palatinate from ambitious Austria and to reduce Catholic preponderancy. The unanimous voice of the nation had sanctioned it, and the Lords and Commons on that occa- sion responded " as if the two Houses had been twins ; what the one had thought and said and done, the other had thought and said and done." They chose the war, but they refused the supplies. To palliate this sudden change in the measures of the Commons, party-writers have imagined, that the Commons had now discovered that Buckingham had deceived them, and that they had been seduced by his statement. Not a single member raised any objection of this nature. If Buckingham had has- tened a war, he knew that by such conduct he should acquire the popularity which it, in fact, brought him ; and so far from the Commons having been seduced by Buckingham, it would be more just to say that Buckingham had been seduced by the Commons. In one respect, however, the charges made by the Commons * Hamon L'Estrange, p. 32. 1G6 IMPEACHMENT OF BUCKINGHAM against the favourite resembled those of Bristol : they turned chiefly on personalities. The impeachment of Buckingham was opened before the Lords by Sir Dudley Digges, who afterwards was one of those who went over to the Court party. Professing to deliver him- self, " in plain country language, setting by all rhetorical aff'ec- tations," he informed the Peers that the Commons had discovered that all the evils which they suffered were drawn like one line to one circumference from one centre, which met in one great man, whom I am here to name — the Duke of Buckingham. In mentioning the name, Sir Dudley looked up and made a sudden stand. The courtly patriot was disconcerted;* the undaunted Duke was facing his accuser. Sir Dudley held in his hand a voluminous roll, and in the preamble of the charge, he had to read the lengthened and the multiplied titles of the plurality of offices, and all the honours held by, as the words run, this "young and inexperienced Duke." The lofty titles resounding through the House, raised our orator's spirit with a paulo majora canamus — and " the plain country language " rolls on in a folio metaphor. Earth and air are ransacked to describe the manufactures, the husbandry, and the commerce of the industrious Commons. The sun in the firmament is the glorious King, the fixed stars their Lord- ships, the elements of fire are the clergy, and the judges are the air they breathe. Amidst this elemental imagery, the discovery of a blazing meteor troubles the Commons, " who though they be the footstool, and the lowest, yet may well be said to be the settled centre of the State." But as for this "prodigious comet " they cannot look upon it, and for want of a " perspective, commend the nearer examination to their Lordships." Such a prologist as Sir Dudley seemed scarcely to threaten in the circumlocutions of his ornate style. He left the less graceful parts to men who were less awed by courtly disposi- tions, and who did not cherish a concealed hope of one day chmbing into that radiant firmament which he had so painfully dehneated. • The circumstance of Sir Dudley's sudden stop is noticed by Hamon I'Estrange, whence Rushworth appears to have drawn his curtailed information. BY THE COMMONS. 167 On the first day, the Duke sat outfacing his accusers, and outbraving their accusations; but he absented himself on the following day, when the epilogue to this mighty drama was elaborately delivered by Sir John Eliot, with a force of declama- tion and a hardiness of personal allusion, which have not been surpassed by the anonymous invectives of the modern Junius. Eliot, after expatiating on the favourite^s ambition in pro- curing and getting into his hands the greatest offices of strength and power in the kingdom, drew a picture of " the inward character of the Duke^s mind, full of collusion and deceit. He was a chimerical beast, called by the ancients StellionatuSj so blurred, so spotted, so full of foul lines, that they knew not what to make of it. In setting up himself, he hath set upon the kingdom's revenues, the fountain of supply, and the nerves of the land. — He intercepts, consumes, and exhausts the revenues of the crown, and by emptying the veins the blood should run in, he hath cast the kingdom into ^a high consumption." Eliot descends to criminate the Duke's magnificent tastes, he who had something of a congenial nature ; for Eliot was a man of fine literature. " Infinite sums of money, and mass of land exceeding the value of money; contributions in Parliament have been heaped upon him : and how have they been em- ployed ? Upon costly furniture, sumptuous feasting, and mag- nificent buildings, the visible evidence of the express exhausting of the State!'' One dark insinuation ambiguously expressed crimes more dreadful, relating to the King. "Not satisfied with injuries and injustice, and dishonouring of religion, his attempts go higher, to the prejudice of his sovereign. The efiects I fear to speak, and fear to think. I end this passage, as Cicero did in a like case, Ne gravioribus utar verbis quam rei natura fert^ aut levioribus quam causce necessitas postulat." The implacable Eliot eloquently closes : — " Your Lordships have an idea of the man, what he is in him- self, what in his affections ! You have seen his power, and some, I fear, have felt it. You have known his practice, and have heard the effects. Being such, what is he in reference to 168 IMPEACHMENT OP BUCKINGHAM King and State ; how compatible or incompatible with either ? In reference to the King, he must be styled the canker in his treasure ; in reference to the State, the moth of all goodness. I can hardly find him a parallel ; but none were so like him as Sejanus, who is described by Tacitus, Audax^ sui obtegenSj in alios criminator, juxta adulator et superbus. Sejanus's pride was so excessive, as Tacitus saith, that he neglected all councils, mixed his business and service with the Prince, seeming to confound their actions, and was often styled Imperatoris labo- rum socius. Doth not this man the like ? Ask England, Scot- land, and Ireland, and they will tell you ! How lately, and how often, hath this man commixed his actions in discourses with actions of the King's ! My Lords ! I have done — you see the man ! '' The parallel of the Duke with Sejanus electrified the House. It touched Charles on a convulsive nerve. The young King was here not great, but indignant. Charles complained of Eliot's comparing the Duke with Sejanus ; " implicitly he must intend me for Tiberius," said the King.* The last charge against Buckingham was at least as merciless as it was offensive. Without possessing any other evidence than the appearance of the corpse, which, in a body of such gross humour as James's, seems not difficult to account for — the charge sanctioned the rumour of the poisoning of the late King, " by the plaister and the posset administered by the means of Buckingham." That rumour, at the time of which we write, was so rife, that even that political and dignified courtier, Bristol, in a moment of irritation, ventured on a painful allusion, when he had occasion to notice the late King's promise to hear him himself — "I pray God," he added, "that that promise did him no hurt, for he died shortly after." On a subsequent appearance at the bar of the House of Lords, Bristol craved pardon for his late earnest speech, confessing it to have been in passion. Whether Dr. Eglisham's famous libel originated in this rumour, or whether it were the contrivance of a party, is not now, perhaps, to be ascertained; but the cruelty of such * I find this piece of secret history inclosed in a letter of the times, with a solemn injunction that it should be burnt. BY THE COMMONS. 160 dreadful accusations is^ that they survive their victim, whether criminal or innocent.* The foulest taint of suspicion must remain attached to the character of Buckingham. I repeat, what I have formerly observed, that it requires more time and cost to repair an edifice than to damage it ; and more zeal to defend the calumniated than care to raise the calumny. An attack, if it deserve notice, is necessarily lively, but a defence can only boast of an honest intention; and nothing short of a miraculous demonstration will so completely eradicate a false or an aggravated charge, as to leave no traces of it behind in the minds of those who have long received the erroneous impression. The conduct of Charles on this occasion, irritated as he evidently was, proved to be the beginning of his troubles, and the first of the more open attempts to crush the popular party. The King came down to the House of Lords to vindicate the Duke from the charges of the Commons. " I can bear witness,'* said Charles, "to clear him in every one of them;" — but "he thought fit to take order to punish some insolent speeches. I have been too remiss in punishing such speeches as concern myself, but Buckingham would not suffer me to take notice of them, lest he might be thought to have set me on. My Lords, I hope you will be as tender of my honour as I have been * " The Forerunner of Revenge " is a tract well known to collectors. It bears every feature of a dreadful political libel ; the aggravating minuteness of its narra- tive betrays the extravagant imagination of the writer. The account of the pre- sumed poisoning of the Marquis of Hamilton by Buckingham is ridiculous ; and the description of the appearance of the corpse is perfectly grotesque. Mr, Brodie has entered largely and fairly into this investigation. Referring to Sanderson's testi- mony, that Eglisham wrote as many lies as lines, who was told by Gerbier, that Eglisham, when abroad, offered to publish a recantation for four hundred guilders, Mr. Brodie does not incline to give credit to the tale. I find it, however, confirmed in the manuscript memoir of Sir Balthazar Gerbier himself. " The falseness of his libels," says Gerbier, " he hath since acknowledged, though too late. During my residency at Bruxelles, this Eglisham desired Sir William Chaloner, who was then at Liege, to bear a letter to me, which is still extant. He proposed, if the King would pardon and receive him into favour again, with some competent subsistence, he would recant all that he had said or written, confessing that he had been urged thereunto by some combustious spirits, that, for their malicious designs, had set him on work." Sloane MSS. 4181. 170 IMPEACHMENT OF BUCKINGHAM sensible of yours." The King evidently alluded to the last charge against Buckingham, which involved his own honour. Digges and Eliot, the prologue and the epilogue orators, were called out of the House by two messengers, who, showing their warrant, took them to the Tower. On this memorable day, a philosophical politician, had such a character existed at that time, might have presciently marked the seed-plots of events, which, not many years afterwards, were apparent to all men. The passions of Kings are often expatiated on, but in the present anti-monarchical period the passions of Parliament are not imaginable. The Commons, with a fierce spirit of reaction for the King's threat of "punishing some insolent speeches," sent up to the Lords for the commitment of the Duke.* The same eager spirit which afterwards pursued Strafford to the scaffold had now appeared, though it was yet unrecognised. The Duke's speech to the Lords in answer to this arbitraiy conduct of the Commons, must have been unpremeditated. It betrays neither the fears of a State criminal, nor the arrogance of a royal favourite. We may form some notion of the man himself, by the disclosure of his own genuine emotions. " My Lords, " If I should hold my peace, it would argue guilt ; if I should speak, it would argue boldness. Your Lordships see what com- plaints are made against me by the House of Commons. How well I stood in their opinions not long since, your Lordships know ; what I have done since to lose their good opinions, I protest I know not. I cannot so distrust my own innocency, as to decline any course or court of justice; they have done me a favour to deliver me out of their hands into your Lordships'. " I will not speak anything to cast dirt at those who have taken pains to make me so foul, but I hope to prove my inno- cency before such just judges. I desire my trial may be hastened, that I may no longer suffer than I must needs ; but • Mr. Hallam confesses, that as the Commons heard no evidence in support of their charges, it was rather uureasouable iu them to request that he might be com- mitted to the Tower. BY THE COMMONS. 171 since my accusers have not been content only to make my process, but to prescribe to your Lordships the manner of your judgment, and to judge me before I am heard, I shall not give way to any of their unjust demands." Wlien the fate of the two patriots was known, the Commons instantaneously broke up, and in the afternoon assembled in Westminster Hall, to interchange their private sentiments on the fate of the two imprisoned members in sullen indignation.* The flame which had broken forth and had shown itself, now seemed to sink within its own volcano, feeding itself on its own bed, to rage the more at a fresh eruption. The following day, the Commons met in their own House. When the Speaker reminded them of their usual business, with one unanimous shout they cried out, " Sit down ! sit down ! " they would touch on no business till " they were righted in their liberties." An open committee of the whole House was formed, and no member was suff^ered to leave it, yet no one spoke. They were either at a loss how to open this awful conference, or they expressed their indignation by a sullen silence. At moments like these, an accidental folly, which another time might pass away, may render permanent the mischief it would prevent. The Vice- Chamberlain, Sir Dudley Carleton, who had long been one of our fol^ign ambassadors, and who, having witnessed the despotic governments on the Continent, imagined that there was no deficiency of liberty at home, ventured to break the harrowing silence. " I find," said the Vice-Chamberlain, " by a great silence in. this House, that it is a fit time to be heard, if you will grant me the patience." He opened with an idle tale of having in his voyage to Marseilles been cast on a variety of sands, and when the passengers were in despair, an old mariner looking on the compass, told them that to clear themselves from the sands, they ought to know how they came there, for by taking a new point it would bring them out. The book of orders was the compass here, and he beseeched them to look, whether the gentlemen (in the aggravation of their charges, particularly the last, of the * The Diary of Sir Symonds D'Ewes, 646.— Harleian MSS. 172 IMPEACHMENT OF BUCKINGHAM cause of the King's death) did not go farther than the orders did warrant them, and how easy it would yet be to bring us from these rocks. Alluding to one of the King's messages, where it was hinted, that "if there was no coiTcspondency between him and the Parliament, he should be forced to use new counsels ;" he added, "I pray you consider what these new counsels are and may be; I fear to declare those I conceive." However, Sir Dudley Carleton plainly indicated them. " When monarchs began to know their own strength, and saw the turbulent spirit of their Parliaments, they had overthrown them in all Europe, except here only with us." The Vice-Chamberlain had not yet learnt to distinguish our own representative Parliament, from the Parlementaires of Lawyers in France. Our old ambassador drew an amusing picture of the effects of arbitrary govern- ments on the Continent. " If you knew the subjects in foreign countries as well as myself, to see them look, not like our nation, with store of flesh on their backs, but like so many ghosts, and not men, being nothing but skin and bones, with some thin cover to their nakedness, and wearing only wooden shoes on their feet, so that they cannot eat meat, or wear good clothes, but they must pay the King for it; this is a misery beyond expression and that which we are yet free from." A long residence abroad had deprived Sir Dudley Carleton of any sympathy with the elevated tone of freedom, and the proud jealousy of their privileges, which though yet depending only on precedents, unascertained, undefined, and still often con-* tested, was breaking forth among the Commons of England. At the close, Carleton remarked on the tartness and personal attacks of Eliot, and here he was more reasonable. The speech was designed to be conciliatory — but the physician had unskilfully applied an emollient, which produced inflamma- tion. "These imprudent suggestions rather gave warning, than struck terror," observes Hume. It was evident, that "new counsels" meant, what subsequently was practised, a monarchical government without a Parliament ! As for the ghosts with wooden shoes, to which the House was congratulated that they were not yet reduced, the House could only infer, that it was ne- cessaiy to prevent the possibility of any such clouted apparitions. BY THE COMMONS. 173 Some offensive words, in allusion to the death of the late King, the Duke persisted in asserting, had dropped from Digges, and to prove which assertion, he appealed to notes taken at the time. After an equivocal termination in the House of Peers, these were explained away, Digges declaring that they had not been used by him. It seems probable that he was suffered to eat his words. The implacable Eliot was made of " sterner stuff. " He explained a good deal, without retracting much. But peace did not return with the two imprisoned patriots. It was fated, that the celestial spirit of our national freedom should not descend among us in the form of the mystical dove. The Commons did not decline in the serpent^s wisdom with which they had begun. They covertly aimed at once, to subju- gate the sovereign, and to expel the minister. A remonstrance was prepared against the levying of tonnage and poundage, which constituted half of the Crown revenues, and a petition '^ equivalent to a command " for removing Buckingham from his Majesty^s "person and councils." The Bemonstrance is wrought up with a high spirit of invec- tive against " the unbridled ambition of the Duke," whom they class " among those vipers and pests to their King and Common- wealth, as so expressly styled by your most Boyal Father." They request that " the King would be pleased to remove this person from access to his sacred presence, and that he would not balance this one man, with all these things, and with the affairs of the Christian world." He who would enter into the views and feelings of Charles at this moment, should consult another immortal page of the philosophical historian.* In the eyes of Charles, Buckingham was not criminal, but the Commons were. They had engaged him in a war, and deserted their sovereign when they saw that for him a retreat was impos- sible. And to what amounted the charges against the Duke ? The heaviest, that of the loan of the ships to France, to serve against the French Protestants, Charles knew to be a mere popular error, as we shall shortly show. Could they allege the ineptitude of the minister ? Great evils under his administration * Hume, vi. 221. 174 PRINCIPAL ARTICLE had not yet occurred, and the people sent forth no cries of oppression. Could the young King sacrifice his friend to the clamours of a party, and, as it seemed to him, for the mean motive of pecuniary purposes ? Long after, Charles, even at a more critical period, vowed that " He and Buckingham should perish together ! " It was at this time that Sir Robert Cotton, returning from an interview with the King and the favourite, observed, that *' the King will never yield to the Duke's fall, being a young man, resolute, magnanimous, and tenderly and firmly afi'ectionate where he takes." * Charles, besides these private motives, had public ones. He considered that in yielding, the sovereign authority would become " contemptible, and carried to the lowest extremity." With the Commons, Buckingham was criminal enough, for they were not within the spell of his fascination. He was the splendid creature of the royal favour of two sovereigns. His youthful presumption, his towering ambition, and his undis- guised enmities, had sickened the hearts of the envious, and stung the spirit of the vindictive. His enemies too were orators. Charles, under the influence of angried feelings, hastily dissolved the second Parliament ; and when the Lords petitioned for its continuance, the King warmly exclaimed, " Not a moment longer ! " From the opening of this Parliament, the style of Charles the First had changed. It was now stately, and the courteous solicitation he once used, — the language of his heart — was no longer theirs ! CHAPTER XIII. OF THE PRINCIPAL ARTICLE OF THE IMPEACHMENT OF BUCK- INGHAM : SECRET HISTORY OF THE LOAN OF ENGLISH SHIPS TO SERVE AGAINST THE FRENCH PROTESTANTS. Of this impeachment by the Commons of a minister invested with such a plurality of offices and honours — an individual so potent by situation, and so inconsiderate by disposition, as the Duke of Buckingham, it must be candidly acknowledged, as ♦ From a manuscript letter. OF THE IMPEACHMENT. 175 assuredly it might satisfactorily be shown, that Hume has not exceeded the truth in asserting that " the articles were either frivolous, or false, or both. After canvassing the matter near three months, they found themselves utterly incapable of fixing any legal crime upon the Duke.^^ I regret that Mr. Hallam has too hastily assumed a sweeping conclusion on the articles of this impeachment. " He tells us many of them were probably well-founded .'' Probably is a term of nullity in historical evidence ; it includes neither the labour of research, nor the force of argument ; it is the cypher of pre- judice, which, placed by an unit of fact, swells out into a mighty sum what in itself is of very small amount. A more accurate knowledge of the prevalent customs of the age, a very little candour, and a closer investigation of the articles themselves, would have deterred the constitutional historian from this unjust severity to " the minion." Rapacity and avarice were not the vices of Buckingham. Even Mr. Brodie lays no stress on the impeachment, though he affects a solitary triumph by asserting, that by Hume^s own account of the loan of ships to France, which were employed by that State against the French Protest- ants, Buckingham was guilty on this charge, which Mr. Brodie considers as " a principal article of the impeachment." The parliamentary historian, May, had indeed considered as among the chief causes of the civil war, and as " most destructive to the Protestant religion, that King Charles lent a strong navy to the King of France, by whose force the Protestant ships were vanquished and scattered." * Buckingham, in reply to this heavy charge, in his able defence, drawn up by Sir Nicholas Hyde, declares that " He did that which belonged to an Admiral of England and a true English- man'^ A forcible expression, and in my mind at all times adapted to his genuine character. Buckingham certainly was always English in his feelings. But having made this declara- tion the Duke faltered, and acknowledged that, to clear himself, it was necessary to disclose a State Secret. On his solicitation ': * May's7* Breviary of the History of the Parliament," p. 7. This little volume must not be considered as a mere abridgment of his larger work ; it is an original one on the same subject. 176 PRINCIPAL ARTICLE to his Majesty, he afterwards obtained leave to do this, but the whole affair was interrupted by the dissolution of Parliament. On this Mr. Brodie observes, " The Duke had the effrontery to state, that he had been over-reached by the French Court, who pretended a design against Genoa, and that when he discovered the imposition, he frustrated it, and by his measures in favour of Rochelle, the strong place of the French Protestants, he had hitherto saved it from destruction." All this Mr. Brodie considers as " the subterfuge of a State criminal." We are deeply interested to ascertain tlie truth of this myste- rious transaction. It will illustrate that important principle which I have already developed in a preceding chapter, and which throws a new light over those ambiguous events in our history, when the Government, from a secret policy buried in the Cabinet, and concealed from the public eye, appeared to act in opposition to the interests of the country, when, in short. State reasons prevailed over popular feelings. The State secret, alleged by Buckingham, not having yet been disclosed, our historians have been thrown into the most con- flicting reasonings, and the most fallacious statements, but this loan of English ships to the French Government, for the purpose of opposing the French Protestants, ceases to be a strange and ambiguous transaction, when its secret history is unfolded.* The loan of a single man-of-war and seven merchant vessels to France, which France afterwards employed against the Reformed of Rochelle, certainly without the consent or the intention of our Government, was always looked on suspiciously by the English nation. Even Gerbier, the confidential agent of Buckingham, and to his last day the faithful servant of three English sovereigns, acknowledges, that " when these ships were employed contrary to the intention, it gave more colour to such as love to find fault than could have been wished." The history of this loan of ships we shall trace from the beginning. When James the First, on the rupture with Spain, formed a strict alliance with France, the French Cabinet decided, however contrary to the private feelings of the French monarch, * I draw my information from the MS. memoir of Sir Balthazar Gerbier, to which I have already referred. OF THE IMPEACHMENT. 177 to head a league of the Protestant powers. The English govern- ment was cherishing the aid and amity of France for the recovery of the eternal Palatinate, as likewise were the Hollanders, with the view of weakening the power of their ancient enemy and sovereign. Spain, on her side, was not less active, and to avenge herself on her great rival, whose aid had essentially contributed to the emancipation of the New States of Holland, she had stirred up the malcontents of France into open insurrection. The Duke of Rohan, and his brother, Soubise, were the great chiefs of the Huguenots, and were raising an independent Government in France itself.* On the remonstrances of the French Government, the Protestant allies of France could only consider the French Princes in the class of rebels, and in intimate connexion with Spanish interests. The French Cabinet had promised to conclude a treaty on favourable terms with their Protestants ; but ere this could be effectuated, the French Government pleaded the absolute neces- sity of suppressing the insurrection in their own realms before they signed the terms already agreed on with the Reformed, that for their own credit it should appear that these conditions had been granted by good will and favour, and not by compul- sion. The French marine was then at so low an ebb, that Soubise seemed master of the seas. It was at this moment, and under these circumstances, that France urged the per- formance of a defensive treaty with England and Holland. The Dutch statesmen, conscious of the State necessity of supporting France against the power and intrigues of Spain, furnished their great ally with twenty ships, according to an existing treaty, in return for money and other aid lent the infant Republic by France ; and James, learning from his ambassadors at Paris, that the treaty between the French Cabinet and the Reformed was nearly concluded, agreed to the loan of a single man-of-war and seven vessels, on the proviso, that they were never to be employed against the Rochellers, for whom the English Monarch * This circumstance is alluded to in the " Testament Politique du Cardinal de Richelieu." — The Catholic style is remarkable. " L'Espagnol fit un Traite avec le Due de Rohan, pour former un corps de rebelles a Dieu et k V. M., tout ensemble moiennant un million qu'il lui devoit donner tons les ans, et dont par ce moien il rendoit les Indes ti'ibutaires a TEufer." VOL. I. N 178 PRINCIPAL ARTICLE had already obtained favourable conditions ; it was stipulated that these English vessels were to act against Genoa, or any- other ally of Spain, This affair now assumed to the public eye the most perplexed appearance. This State policy produced in Holland the very same consequences as in England. The Duke of Rohan, and his brother Soubise, having openly adopted the cause of the Hugue- nots, remonstrated on the iniquity of Protestants warring against Protestants for a Catholic power ! It was proved against the States, that while they had indeed promised the Protestant deputies of the Rochellers all they required, they, at the same time, had dispatched secret orders to their admiral to join the French. Such are the high mysteries of " King-craft," as James the First described the intrigues of Cabinets. Each State, to obtain its own purpose, is apparently acting against its own interests. The people, who know nothing of such political involutions, revolted in Holland at the present one. The clergy declaimed from their pulpits, the populace was incited to pull down the house of the admiral and his friends, and the public spirit was so uncontrollable, that the Dutch Government deemed it proper to give way to it. They were suspected by the French Cabinet of having connived at these tumults, though it appears that they did not dare to exercise any authority, dreading a general insurrection throughout the United Provinces. The promised treaty with the French Protestants was still delayed, and Rohan and Soubise were still in revolt. When Charles learnt that the treaty was uncertain, Gerbier tells us, that the King began to act with great caution and suspicion. To prevent any injury to the Huguenots of Rochelle, in whose interests our Cabinet was engaged, and which afterwards led to the French war, the King commanded Gerbier to write in cypher to Captain Pennington, that though he had cast anchor in the roads of Dieppe, and the Marquis d^Effiat expected to have the eight ships given up to French officers, on the receipt of Gerbier's letter he was to weigh anchor and return to tlie Downs. Pennington gladly obeyed, which threw the Marquis into a violent rage, he declaring that for this open act of dis- obedience of orders nothing less than the life of Pennington OF THE IMPEACHMENT. 179 should satisfy him, and he instantly dispatched a messenger to Charles. For the truth of this statement, Gerbier appeals to Mr. Secretary Nicholas, then secretary to the Admiralty.* Pennington returned home, and proceeded to Oxford, where the Parliament sat. Buckingham is accused by the Commons that knowing from Pennington the state of affairs, he subtily concealed it from Parliament, observing " boldly and untruly," say the Commons, that " it was not always fit for Kings, to give account of their counsels, and that five or six months had already passed, and the ships were not employed against Rochelle, — and prayed their lordships to judge the things by the event, to which he would refer the whole matter." " By which cunning speeches," so the Commons animadvert, " he made the Lords and Commons believe that the ships were never meant to be employed against the E,ochellers."t In the meantime, Charles having received satisfactory accounts from his agents at Paris, concerning the treaty with the French Protestants, Pennington was again commanded to return to Dieppe, and give up the ships to the French officers. Mr. Larkin, who was an able and confidential agent of the English Government, * In the charge made by the Commons, the curious reader will find a most abundant detail of all the transactions relative to the loan of these ships. — Rush- worth, i., 322 to 333. And when he shall have read the present chapter, he will learn how a heap of cross-purposes may furnish out a most formidable body of evi- dence against a State delinquent. A round-robin by the sailors was laid under the Prayer-book of Pennington. It is evident that the English sailors were in as great a consternation as the Hollanders at fighting against their brother Protestants, and the Commons, as Hume says, " showed the same attachment with the sailors for the Protestant religion, nor was their zeal much better guided by reason and sound policy." Hume has taken the most profound views on this curious state of affairs. Such noble passages dihcover that political sagacity which confers immortality on his pages. — vi. 209. — Smollett seems at a loss to solve the riddle. *' Even these Huguenots were supported by the King of Spain, and their revolt 'prevented Louis from assisting the English monarch in his designs against the House of Austria." — A valid reason for the King of England assisting his brother and ally of France to put down the insurrection of the French princes. + It is useful to notice what sort of evidence a party will get up against a State culprit. A Monsieur de la Touche, probably a French Protestant, meeting at Salisbury, Mr. Sherwell, a member, going to Parliament, and infontning our mem- ber that the Duke had assured him these ships were not to act against his country- men, notwithstanding they had since, concluded that, le Due est wn, mechant Jiomme. The charge in the Impeachment winds up with this positive evidence of this good Monsieur de la Touche, of the delinquency of this impeached minister ! N 2 180 PRINCirAL ARTICLE had inforced the return to Dieppe, assuring our Cabinet, that the peace was settled between the French Government and its Reformed ; but a sudden change in the French councils occurring, that Charles might be aware of this important infor- mation, Larkin set off himself post from Paris ; embarking in stormy weather he was cast away, and arrived too late. Another agent, one Clarke, who had also been employed in this negocia- tion, lost himself in the opinion of Buckingham, and was so sensible of his inept conduct that he died of grief. Such is the secret history of this ambiguous transaction ; and when Buckingham was accused of having betrayed the English cause, it was not wonderful that he should have faltered, and declared, that his vindication could only be effected by the revealment of a State secret; but he boldly assured them, that he had acted like " an Englishman." We are now enabled to confirm the allegation of Bucking- ham. It now appears that the original destination of the ships was Genoa, with the design of alarming the Spanish coast. We can also explain certain obscure passages which Dr. Lingard has brought forward to criminate this minister. " The offence said to have been committed by the Duke, was, that he, as High- Admiral, had lent English ships for the purpose of opposing the Protestants. That Buckingham's allegation was false, is evident from the whole tenor of the transaction, from the unwillingness of the Duke to give an explanation, from a passage in his letter, dated Paris, May 30, 1625 : ' The peace with them of the reli- gion depends upon the success of that fleet they (the French) had from your Majesty, and the Low Countries.' * And from another passage in the instructions given to him on the 17th of October : ' We conceive that the work which was required to be done by them, (the ships,) being the suppression of Soubise, is accomplished.' " The reader will now, for the first time, understand these obscure passages, which perfectly accord with Gerbicr's state- ment. '^ The peace with them of the religion, i.e. the French Protestants, depended on the success of the ships borrowed from the two countries." This success refers to the suppression of ♦ Clarendon Papers, ii., Appenilix, xxv. OF THE IMPEACHMENT. 181 Soubise's maritime force, as it is precisely so stated in the instructions. The King, concluding that work had been done, now insisted on the final termination of the treaty of peace so long depending between the French Government and their Protestants. The story of this loan of ships to France, is a very striking example of the effects of popular exaggeration. It is curious to discover, on turning to the French historian's account of this transaction, that the aid of the English on this occasion was deemed so inconsiderable, that he almost passes it over in silence. I give Pere Griffet's own words, as they confirm the truth of Buckingham's statement. " Comme on vouloit attaquer les Genois par mer et par terre on envoya demander des vais- seaux au Roi d'Angleterre et aux Hollandois. On ne tira du E-oi d'Angleterre que des promesses vagues qui demeurerent sans eflfet; mais les Hollandois s'engagerent h, donner vingt yaisseaux bien armes." * We must consider the subject of this chapter, not only histo- rically curious, as throwing a new light over the administration of Buckingham, but as developing political instruction of far higher interest. It proves that there are State secrets which cannot either in honour or in policy be trusted to the public ear; and that when the Cabinet appears to be acting contrary to the desires of the country, the Government, with more wisdom than public newswriters and clamorous party-men will be willing to allow them, may be advancing the complicate objects of national interests. We see, in the present case, how the Dutch Government was right, as statesmen, in adopting their unpopular measures; and we also see how fatally, by submitting to the dictate of popular prejudices, they impeded the great design of reducing the mighty strength of Spain, the success of which design could only be insured by maintaining the interests of the only power which could balance Spanish predominance. In com- bating, then, with the Protestant insurgents of France, under Soubise, England and Holland were hastening that peace for the Protestant cause which had been so long delayed. There are paradoxes in history which conceal truths. * Histoire de France, xiii. 442. 182 MEANS TO RAISE MONET CHAPTER XIV. MEANS RESORTED TO BY THE KING TO RAISE SUPPLIES WITHOUT THE AID OF PARLIAMENT. When the Patriots abandoned their Sovereign to his fate, they retreated home sullen, indignant, and ready to conspire among themselves for the assumption of their disputed or their defrauded liberties. They industriously dispersed their "re- monstrance," and the King replied by "a declaration;" but an attack is always more vigorous than a defence. The " declara- tion" is spiritless, and evidently composed under suppressed feelings, which, perhaps, knew not how to shape themselves. The "remonstrance" was commanded every where to be burnt; but the effect which it produced on the people we shall shortly witness. The King was left amidst the most pressing exigencies. Charles the First has never been accused of a wanton profusion of the public wealth. Rapin even lays to his charge his strict economy in living, even to penuriousness. His tastes and his habits were those of privacy, and his claims on Parliament were solely for national objects, yet we now find him involved even in personal distresses. The King, from the first, had given up the pomp of his Coronation as " savings for more noble under- takings." He had mortgaged his lands in Cornwall to the Aldermen and Companies of London, to possess and enjoy till their money was repaid, and he had reduced his household. Hume has alluded to the numerous wants of the Monarch, but he was unacquainted with the King's extremest necessities. To raise immediate supplies, the King's gilt plate was sold, and the royal distress was carried so far, that all the tables at Court were laid down, and the courtiers put on board wages. I have seen a letter that gives an account of " tlie funeral supper at Whitehall, whereat twenty-three tables were buried, being from henceforth converted to board wages." Wages, pensions, and debts, undischarged, filled the Court, not indeed with faction. WITHOUT A PAELIAMENT. 183 but with discontent. We are not therefore surprised, that "since this dissolving of house-keeping his Majesty is but slenderly attended/' Even long after this period, the poverty of the royal establishment was observed. Another letter-writer, describing himself to be only "a looker*on,'' alludes to the famous Masque of the Inns of Court, whose reminiscence charmed even the sage Whitelocke in the times of the Puritanic Administration, when he feelingly regrets that all these elegant "dreams had vanished/' The "looker-on" exclaims, "I see a rich people, and the Crown poor ! " This strange poverty of the Court seems to have escaped the notice of our general his- torians. Charles was now to victual his fleet with the savings from the board-wages ; for, in this humiliating economy, this " surplusage" was taken into account to carry on the war with Spain — without supplies I The unpopular conduct of Charles the First, in abandoning his intractable Parliaments, who, in truth, had early deserted him, and in attempting to raise supplies by expedients of his own device, flattering himself, as he declared, that he could supply his wants " by other means than by the grants of his Commons," we must consider as a political error — and it was an unavoidable one ! It is this which renders the fate of the victim-Monarch still more pitiable. To reign without a refrac- tory Parliament, and to seek among the people subjects more loyal than their representatives, was an experiment — and a fatal one ! Charles imagined that he should have been able to reign by the aid of his people, separated from Parliament ; — but Parlia- ment was separating him from the people. He forgot that orators are heard, and that the multitude are all ear. We have no reason to suppose that the King designed to wrest from the people more than he would have been empowered to exact by the accustomed legal grants, or than his present exigencies required. On his accession, Charles generously scouted the political management of Bishop Williams to secure a majority of the members for Court-interests. The young Prince, open and impatient, rejected the mean expedient. He was desirous of throwing himself into the hands of his Parliament. His conduct on this occasion has even melted into an efl'usiou 184 JtfEANS TO RAISE MONEY the cold drop that lingered in the pen of Mr. Brodie, — for even he has recognised the honourable impulse of the young Monarch. It is, however, unquestionable, that Charles was early dis- pleased with the obstructions he had unexpectedly encountered in the great national assembly; for so early as in 1620, speak- ing of Parliaments, the King declared in council that " he abominated the name," and no affection grew up between them as he advanced in his reign. In 1634, alluding to the Irish Parliament, his imagination forcibly conjured it up as " a hydra, which at home he had found as well cunning as malicious/' And still later the King declared to Strafford that " Parliaments are like cats ; they grow curst (i. e. cross) with age." All these notions of Charles respecting Parliaments, however arbitrary they seem to us, were, in truth, not so much the ideas of a despot, as of a monarch aggrieved. In that day the privileges of Parliament were more unsettled than those of the royal prerogative. Mr. Hallam has candidly observed, that " no statesman of that age was ready to admit the new creed of Par- liamentary control over the Executive Government." " Execu- tive Government ! " is the purified and more definite term of the sovereignty of England, but the phrase could not have been comprehended by the political student of the age of the first Stuarts. What is tyranny but a rule cruel and injurious, unjust and arbitrary ? These are the epithets which now must describe, or rather stigmatise, the conduct of the Commons. It was €ruel to the Monarch, whose best feelings it outraged, and whose situation it embittered and degraded. It was injurious to the State, whose honour it violated, and whose interests it impaired. It was unjust, because it was a direct infringement of the sanc- tity of existing engagements. And it was arbitrary, because it was wilful, absolute, irresponsible, despotic, and as little founded on principle, or required by necessity, as it was authorised by custom, or supported by law. Was there not quite as much of " tyranny " in the Parlia- mentary denial of revenue, as in the regal force which attempted to supply a craving exchequer ? This determination of a party to withhold supplies from the Throne, is an important point in WITHOUT A PARLIAMENT. 185 the moral history of Charles the First. The enemies of the King cannot pass it over silently. The philosophic Hume has cast the dishonour for ever in their face. They cannot deny itj they cannot even palliate it. What therefore remains ? The insolence of him who exults in the dexterity of a criminal act — or the sneer of vulgar and heartless spirits who love to bring down the great or the dignified, to their own base level. They triumph that the Commons were reducing the Sovereign to the sharpness of his extremest necessities — those Commons who flattered themselves that, in rendering the Sovereign their abject pen- sioner, they might wrest into their own hands that sovereignty which they were subverting. No one can deny that the first Parliament refused the supplies for a war in which their young King had engaged with the sanction of the former Parliament. The Commons might have escaped from this eternal reproach, had they consulted their dignity, perhaps their policy, in raising a bold distinction between the inexperienced Monarch and the unpopular Minister. Had they held their loyalty sacred and inviolable, by supporting the Sovereign, however energetically they might have protested against the unpopular Favourite, although Charles might have denied the resemblance of the man to the portrait they would have painted, still would they have left posterity a glorious lesson, — nor was Charles the First one on whom it would have been lost. In this manner, the first Parliament would have nobly acted, with wisdom, and not with cunning; with justice, and not with malice; with the elevated dignity of senators, not with the petty policy of vulgar bur- gesses.* By the reverse conduct which the Parliament held, * The raost recent writer on this subject is Mr. Hallam, who, though not insensible to the injuries inflicted on the Monarch, has palUated the conduct of the Parliament. i transcribe the passage for the benefit of the reader : " The first Parliament of this reign has been severely censured, on account of the penurious supply it doled out for the exigencies of a war in which its predecessors had involved the King. I will not say that this reproach is wholly unfounded. A more liberal proceeding, if it did not obtain a reciprocal concession from the King, wotdd have put him more in the wrongP This sentence must have cost Mr, Hallam some trouble — not in the arrangement of so many monosyllables, but rather in the nice adjustment of that delicacy of decision, which, while it discovers that the King was wronged, indicates how " he might have been put more in the wrong." More ! — why, as it happened, and as we have shown, he was not in the wrong at all. This is a sharp conflict between the truth the historian loves, and the party which he loves more. What follows is much special 180 MEANS TO RAISE MONEY Charles the First only felt that he was betrayed by Parliament ; and he scorned to barter their favonr by that vulgar traffic of treachery — the immolation of the single victim who had long attached his personal affections, and who was a man at least as much envied as he was hated. That cruel duty had not yet been inculcated on a British Sovereign, that his bosom must remain a blank to all private affections, — that severe lesson Charles the First was hereafter to be taught. Amid this world of troubles which was now opening on the nation, particularly after the return of Buckingham from the disastrous expedition to the Isle of Rhe, hard was the conflict of contending duties between the Sovereign and the people. The spirit and sense of the country gentlemen claim our sympathy; for many of this honourable class, willing to assist the King in his distresses, but dreading lest such illegal shifts and arbitrary demands for levying money from his subjects might, if they yielded, be established into precedents, entered their prisons with patriotic fortitude. One instance represents many. George Catesby, of Northamptonshire, being committed to prison as a loan-recusant, alleged, among other reasons for his non-com- pliance, that "he considered that this loan might become a precedent ; and that every precedent, he was told by the Lord President, was a flower of the prerogative. The Lord President told him that * he lied ! ' Catesby shook his head, observing, ' I come not here to contend with your Lordship, but to suffer.' Lord Suffolk then interposed, to entreat the Lord President not too far to urge his kinsman, Mr. Catesby. Tliis country gentleman waived any kindness he might owe to kindred, de- claring that * he would remain master of his own purse.' The prisons were crowded with loan-recusants. The friends of these knights and country gentlemen flocked to their prisons, and the disturbed scenes in the country assumed a more alarming ap- pearance. The great novelty and symptom of the times was the scattering of letters. Sealed letters, addressed to the leading men of the country, were found hanging on bushes ; pleading about the necessity that ** a fonndation of confidence should be laid between the Crown and Parliament." Heaven knows, that Charles the First had on his side confidence " over much " in his first Pariiament. He had trusted all his hopes to them— and tliey were bankrupts in their promises. WITHOUT A PARLIAMENT. 187 anonymous letters were dropped in shops and streets, which gave notice that " the day was fast approaching when such a work was to be wrought in England as never was the like, which will be for our good." Addresses multiplied " to all true-hearted EngHshmen ! " When the country gentlemen petitioned for more liberty and air during the summer, it was policy to grant their request. But it was also policy that they should not reside in their own counties; the relaxation was only granted to those who, living in the south, consented to sojourn in the north ; while the dwellers in the north were to be lodged in the south. These country gentlemen insured their popularity by their committals, for many stout resistors of the loans were returned in the following Parliament against their own wishes. About eighty of these country gentlemen were imprisoned; they were not hardly treated, and the King granted them an allowance according to their rank and fortune. By an anecdote which Carte has given, there was a colonel who declared that he had cost his Majesty fifteen hundred pounds for his weekly allowances. These jcountry gentlemen and the Sovereign were thrown into the same unhappy predicament. Neither party could relieve the other, though unquestionably both would gladly have avoided their mutual persecution, — the enforcement of his claims by the Sovereign, and the refusal of them by his sub- jects. The party who had for ever divided them alone tri- umphed. Many were heavily fined for declaring that " they knew no law besides that of Parhament to compel men to give away their own goods," and the cry in return for " a subsidy " was ever " a Parliament ! " The King ordered that those who could not subscribe to the loans should not be forced ; but it seems there were orders in council to specify the names of those householders who would not subscribe, and that those who could not pay in purse should pay in person. This proceeding is one of many evidences of a weak Government and strong measures, —of Charles's disposition to respect the rights of the people, and of the distresses which urged him to circumvent those rights. What was the result ? Every mode that the Government invented seems to have been easily frustrated, either by the 188 MEANS TO RAISE MONEY intrepidity of the parties themselves, or by that general under- standing which enabled the people to play into one another's hands. Those who were pressed were sent to the depot ; but either the soldiers would not receive these good citizens, or they found easy means to return. Whenever they levied a distress in consequence of a refusal to pay the imposition granted by the Common-Council at Guildhall, which the people called Yield-all, there was nothing found but " old ends, such as nobody cared for ; '' or if commodities were seized on, it was in vain to offer pennyworths, where it was a point of honour that no customer should be found. A wealthy merchant, who had formerly beea a cheesemonger, was summoned to appear before the Privy Council, and required to lend the King two hundred pounds, or else to go himself to the army and serve it with cheese. It was not supposed that a merchant so aged and wealthy would sub- mit to resume his former mean trade ; but the old man, in the spirit of the times, preferred the hard alternative, and baulked the new project of finance by shipping himself with his cheese. When at Hickes's-hall the Duke and the Earl of Dorset sat to receive the loans; the Duke impatiently threatened, and the Earl affected to treat with levity those who came before them, with all the suppressed passions of popular indignation. The Earl of Dorset, asking a fellow who pleaded inability to lend money, of what trade he was, and being answered " a tailor," said, " Put down your name for such a sum ; one snip will make amends for all." The tailor quoted Scripture abundantly, and shook the bench with laughter or with rage by his anathe- mas, till he was put fast into a messenger's hands. This tailor was a remarkable person, one Ball, renowned through the parish of St. Clements, not only as a tailor, but as a prophet. He had formerly discovered that Prince Henry was prefigured in the Apocalypse, and had prophesied that his Royal Highness should overthrow " the beast." The honest prophet, crediting his own prophecy, lent out money to receive it back double or treble, yvhen King James should be elected Pope ! He was now con- signed to a messenger ; but hardly could even this prophet have foretold that twenty years after, tailors and prophets should employ messengers themselves I Men of a certain rank, for their contumacy, were menaced to WITHOUT A PARLIAMENT. 189 be sent to serve in the army for the Palatinate, or on other foreign employment. Among these, Sir Peter Hayman, a member of the House of Commons, opened his own case, and told his own story. The characteristic style of our sturdy patriot is amusing, and tempts me to lay it before the reader — " I was called before the Lords of the Council, for what I know not. I heard it was for not lending on a Privy Seal. I told them, if they will take my estate, let them, I will give it up; lend I will not. When I was before the Lords of the Council, they laid to my charge my unwillingness to serve the •King; I said I had my life and my estate to serve my country and my religion. They put upon me if I did not pay, I should be put upon an employment of service. I was willing. After ten weeks^ waiting, they told me I was to go with a Lord into the Palatinate, and that I should have employment there, and means befitting. I told them, I was a subject, and desired means. Some put on very eagerly, some dealt nobly; they said I must go on my own purse. I told them. Nemo militat suis expensis. Some told me, I must go ; I began to think what must I ? None were ever sent out in that kind. Lawyers told me, I could not be so »ent. Having that assurance, I demanded means, and was resolved not to stir upon those terms, and in silence and duty I denied. "Upon this, they having given me a command to go, after some twelve days they told me they would not send me as a soldier, but to attend on an ambassador. I knew that stone would hit me. I settled my troubled estate, and addressed myself to that service." That great lawyer, Sir Edward Coke, pithily observed on these odious imprisonments and forced foreign employments : — '' No restraint, be it ever so little, but is imprisonment, and foreign employment is a kind of honourable banishment. I myself was designed to go to Ireland : I was willing to go, and hoped if I had gone, to have found some Mompessons there. There is a difference when the party is the King's servant, and when not." These illegal and irregular contributions of money, to which Charles the First was forced in his great distresses, have furnished some scenes of arbitrary power, and even of tyrannical courses, for those historical painters, who, with a hatred of the 190 MEANS TO RAISE MONEY Monarch, have left U8 such a distorted portrait of the Man. The King declared, that "not one penny borrowed by loan should be bestowed or expended but upon those public and general services wherein every one of them, and their wives and children, and posterity, have their personal and common interest." The Court party pleaded, that the sums thus reluctantly wrested from individuals were much less than the subsidies which, had Parliament sympathised with their Sove- reign, would have been granted. Lilly, who had himself been a collector of the ship-money, and who had no prejudices in favour of Charles, tells us that his proportion of taxes in the King's time was twenty-two shillings and no more ; while the assessments which he had to pay at the time he was writing under the Commonwealth were nearly as many pounds ! The Commonwealth then sold their liberty dear. Cromwell did not dispense it at a cheaper rate. However, the nation, it appears, was more glorious, but the individual was pinched for it ! To discover the fairest means of raising supplies was the great financial difficulty of Charles the First. This investiga- tion formed the perpetual discussion in Council — but the con- trivances and the artifices to disguise, the forms of the royal exactions, as is in the nature of such things, were often equalled by the contrivances and the artifices of the people to elude them : and the King's exchequer often drew little profit by the odious measures in which there was at least as much of distress as of tyranny. At first, Charles had hoped by the pathetic appeal to a "Benevolence,'' that he should have touched the hearts of the resistors of unparliamentary taxation, but the term proved unlucky, and was construed into a " Malevolence," for the nature of the thing, said a member, does not agree with the name. When Benevolences lost all their virtue, the subject was cautiously informed that the sum demanded was a loan — or he was honoured by a letter under the privy seal, till privy seals got to be hawked about to persons coming out of church. At length, as the distresses of the Monarch rose on him, appeared the general loan, which in fact was a forced loan. Ingenious in the destruction of his own popularity, a new mode of " Secret instructions to Commissioners " was contrived. WITHOUT A PARLIAMENT. 191 Those gentlemen were to treat apart with their lenders, — ^never in the presence of any other person ; beginning with those who were likely to set the best example, they were then to show the roll to the more reluctant. Their skill was to find out those who could afford to bear the largest rates ; but how were they to acquire this secret and inquisitorial knowledge ? After a number of interrogatories had been put to a person concerning others who had spoken against loan-money, and after having drawn from him the arguments which had been used against these loans, the communicator was to be charged in his Majesty^s name, and upon his allegiance, not to disclose to any other person the answers which had been enforced from him by the Commissioners. This is a striking instance of human fatuity. A weak, rather than a tyrannical Government is attempting arbitrary measures ; and they seek to obtain a secret purpose by the most open and general means ; a self-destroying principle ! Shall we at once condemn the King for his arbitrary measures in levying money ? It is possible that such were never in his contemplation. Charles, whose favourite literary amusement seems to have been our dramatic writings, ' when once reading a manuscript of Massinger's, entitled " The King and the Subject," found this not unappropriate passage was given to the tyrant Pedro of Spain : — " Monies ! we '11 raise supplies what ways we please, And force you to subscribe to blanks, in which We '11 mulct you as we shall think fit. The Ctesars In Rome were wise, acknowledging no laws But what their swords did ratify." Against this passage Charles the First wrote *«This is too insolent, and to be changed." The criticism of Charles was not as excellent as the feeling which dictated it. The Master of the Revels, who has afforded us this anecdote from his office-book, adds, " It is here entered for ever, to be remembered by my son, and those that cast their eyes on it, in honour of King Charles my master." The courtly Master of the Revels might have been surprised that the King appeared to have been disgusted with his own practice. 192 MEANS TO RAISE MONEY The expedients which Charles the First was often reduced to practise, sometimes placed him in a very ridiculous position, from his earnestness to obtain his purpose without a manifest injury to the subject. The oppressive system of monopolies still practised on the Continent, had long been a grievance in this country. Mono- polies were a wretched mode of drawing a certain revenue from a particular article, by the contractors engaging to make a stipulated annual payment for. their privileges. When Govern- ment grants such a patent for the sole vending of an article or manufacture, it extinguishes the highest virtues of commerce ; competition and its consequences, improvement and low prices. A monopoly of soap was granted by Charles the First to certain courtiers. To render this company more odious, in a pamphlet of the day we are told, it was composed of " Popish Kecusants.'^ Connecting Popery with soap-boiling was, it seems, no clumsy artifice to rouse popular clamour. But as these monopolies were often in the hands of Roman Catholics, it is probable that the Catholics, thrown out of the more honour- able professions, may have turned their attention to this species of commercial speculation. The Roman Catholics at that time in our country occupied the same station as the Hebrews — they were driven to pursue baser occupations, from being prohibited the more liberal ones. The proposal for making soap, no doubt originated with one of those projectors who abound in periods of public distress. In the new patent, every good quality of soap was specified, a lower price was fixed on, and the King was to receive ten thou- sand pounds per annum. On these specious pretences this monopoly was granted. The regular traders would in their own defence practise every artifice to damnify the new invention, and a civil war was carried on between the old and the new soapcrs. It was alleged that the new soap blistered the washer's hands, burnt the linen, scalded the laundresses' fingers, wasted infinitely in keeping, being full of lime and tallow. In its defence, it was urged that barrels of the new soap had been sophisticated by the malice of the old soapcrs, throwing in a quantity of rhubarb, or a glass of sack, with other adulterations, and finally that " the King and the Lords were well satisfied WITHOUT A PARLIAMENT. 19S with the goodness of this new soap." Complaints, however, were still rife. " The new company oi gentlemen soap-boilers,'' however, procured Mrs. Sanderson, the Queen^s laundress,* to subscribe to the goodness of their soap ; but Mrs. Sanderson " told her Majesty that she dare not wash her Majesty^s linen with any other but Castile soap ; " and, to the shame of those ladies who had subscribed their names to the certificate of the excellence of the new soap, it was known that they, hke the Queen's laun- dress, privately did, what they publicly professed they did not, — use the Castile soap ! " On Sunday last," says a letter- writer, " the King and Council set again upon the soap business. On Monday the Lord Mayor was sent for to the Court, where His Majesty and the Lords rebuked him for his partial proceeding in favour of the old soap, disparaging the new ! Their lordships sent a warrant, with four of their hands to it, to bring a poor old woman out of Southwark before them, for speaking invec- tively against the new soap ! She was well chidden and dis- missed." On this occasion there seems to have been more than one old woman present at the Council. " Four Lords " actually signed the warrant ! And in truth the Lord Mayor had not fairly incurred the royal rebuke! His lordship and the whole Court of Aldermen had consented to join with the Lieutenant of the Tower, and several Knights, to hold two general washing days at Guildhall, where every one might come and wash their linen before the worshipful assembly. Many came, but chiefly of the feminine gender, who, as all washerwomen are accustomed at their work, could not hold their clack. So loud and clamorous was the babble against the new soap, that it appears that his lord- ship with the Court of Aldermen and the Lieutenant of the Tower, and the Knights were panic-struck. The letter-writer proceeds, "The Lord Mayor, by the King's commandment, received a shrewd reprimand for his pusillanimity in this busi- ness, being afraid of a troop of women that clamorously peti- tioned against the new soap. My Lord Privy- Seal (the Lord Mayor's brother-in-law) was to give it him at the Board, and * Bridget, daughter of Sir Edward Tyrrell, Knt., and wife to William Sanderson, the historian, who, at the Restoration was made gentleman in ordinary to the King's Privy Chamber, and knighted. VOL. I. O 194 MEANS TO EAISE MONET did it very sharply," In a word, the Lord Mayor was treated by " the King and Council " as they had before used the " old woman from Southwark," who, probably on the occasion of " the two general washing-days at Guildhall," avenged her cause among the heroines who, armed only with their tongues, put to flight the whole Court of Aldermen and the Lieutenant of a royal fortress. All this was only ridiculous. The monopoly did not perform its promises, the soap grew worse and worse, and the King^s revenue less and less. After many vexatious persecutions, for '' the new soapers " made '' forcible entries and seizures " on the old, the new yielded up their patent to the old. So that these were compelled to re-purchase at an enormous rate the right of following their own trade, and having the duties doubled. The patent professed that this monopoly arose from the royal care to promote the home manufactory, in preference to the foreign commodity.* This soap monopoly was, no doubt, con- sidered by the Cabinet as a fortunate measure, for the Lord Treasurer, finding himself opposed by the Lord Marshal, observed, " If you will be against the things that are for the King's profit, so that he cannot have money, your pension must be unpaid." f An instance more honourable to the honest feelings of Charles the First, on another financial expedient, is sufficiently curious. Among the extraordinary expedients of the Duke of Bucking- ham, was that of a new coinage, which offered an immediate certain profit. The King was to have more than a double number of shillings out of a pound of bullion. The Duke had already executed the project, and sixty thousand pounds of these debased shillings were actually issued. Most of the mer- chants who were summoned before the Lords in Council, to deliver their opinions, declared it to be a ruinous scheme ; J ♦ The Patent, with its particulars, may be found in Rushworth, ii. 1 89. + Strafford's Letters, i. 372. X Perhaps our political economists may bo curious to learn the arguments which their homely fathers used on this occasion. The merchants said that at first the King might perhaps gain largely by this new coinage, but it would ruin trade by the alteration of the exchange, would greatly reduce the revenues of the King and all men, enhance the price of all things, raise the value of Spanish bullion, and afford a WITHOUT A PARLIAMENT. 195 but the Duke found supporters with an opposite party. On a second meeting, Sir Robert Cotton drew out a paper, and by his Majesty's command, began to read.* The third article startled the Duke, who, looking sternly, and leaning over Sir Robert's shoulder, exclaimed, " Sir Robert Cotton, are you come hither to instruct the King and Council?'' This silenced Sir Robert, but in defiance of the looks and taunts of Buckingham, who stood beside the royal chair. Cotton, kneeling down, delivered the paper into the King's hands, beseeching his Majesty would by no means omit reading it over. Charles graciously accepted the paper. The Duke, who counted on the strength of his present party, and the absence of most of the others, eager to conclude, moved that the Lords might sit instantly to close the Council. Again Sir Robert Cotton cast himself on his knees, requesting his Majesty to observe, that the majority of the Council were absent, and that a business of vital importance to the nation might not pass so imperfectly examined, and humbly entreated that the Council might adjourn to the next day. The King granted his request against the Duke's motion. The same night, before he retired to rest, the King studiously perused Sir Robert's paper. On the following day, when his Majesty appeared in Council, no one could discover by his countenance to which side he inclined. Having heard different opinions, the King, with his peculiar ability in summing up arguments, convinced the Lords of the Council, that he had made himself perfectly master of the subject, and decided against the Duke. The Master of the Mint was severely reprimanded for having issued out this new coinage, and a proclamation was sent out, new profit to foreign countries by counterfeiting our coin, and by this means even deprive the King of his expected profits. On a similar conduct under the inept administration of the Duke of Lerma, by doubhng the value of the copper coin, copper money was poured into Spain from all parts, and their silver suddenly swept away, as if it had been by enchantment. It is evident that Government acquires nothing by raising or lowering the standard of the circulating medium. — Mariana. * This paper, which we have found in a MS. letter, dated September, 1626, is however printed among the posthumous pieces of Sir Robert Cotton, which Howel edited. It could not therefore be Sir Thomas Rowe's speech, made at the Council- table in July, 1640, though, as such, it is published by Rushworth, in his Collections. o2 196 SECRET HISTORY OF that " all monies of gold and silver coined since the issues of this debased coin, should be esteemed as bullion, and not be current." Charles, in his distress, not only would not do wrong, but eagerly repaired the mischief which had been done, and this public repulse of an adopted measure of the Favourite's, with the judicious preference he gave to the knowledge of Cotton, is not only said to have greatly mortified Buckingham, but appears " to have raised some hopes and exultation among the moderate part of the Opposition." The result of our researches must be, that the arbitrary mode of levying supplies without the aid of Parliament, when Parliament refused to aid, does not prove, as is usually assumed, any preference in Charles to tyrannical modes of raising money. Had Charles been a tyrant, like other tyrants, he would have opened a much shorter and an absolute way. CHAPTER XV. SECRET HISTORY OF THE QUEEN'S HOUSEHOLD, AND OF THE ATTEMPT TO ORGANISE A FRENCH AND CATHOLIC FACTION IN THE ENGLISH COURT. Charles the First, at this early period of his reign, had not' only to encounter the troubles of his Parliament, the dis- affection of the people excited by his fin.incial difficulties, and the anxieties attendant on his military expeditions ; but even his own household opened for him a long scene of mortification, such as has rarely been exhibited under the roofs of the palace of the sovereign. Charles and Henrietta had met in youthful love ; ardent and heartfelt had been their first embrace; but the design and results of a political marriage could not long be concealed, and their personal happiness was soon not in their own power to command. Henrietta, among her French household, forgot her endear- ing entreaty to Charles, which liad so gracefully opened her lips on her arrival, that " he would ever himself, and by no third person, correct her faults of ignorance, youthful and a stranger THE queen's household. 197 as slie was." In thanking her, the young Monarch desired that " she would use him as she had desired him to use her." But Henrietta had the whole French Cabinet invisibly operat- ing on her conduct. Her mother, the Dowager of France, and her brother, the Monarch, flattered their hopes that a ductile princess of sixteen might serve as an instrument to maintain the predominance of the French interest in the English Court, nor does the English King appear to have been insensible to their attempt. It is only by entering into the domestic privacies of these royal personages, that we can do justice to Charles in a dilemma equally delicate and difficult. Of this political marriage, as of so many others, we may detect the secret motives of an union of adverse interests. No one, I think, has noticed the character of the French ambassadors who were sent immediately after the marriage. Every ambassador sent by France was acting under the councils of the Louvre to influence the Queen. The Count de Tillieres, who had first come over here as Chamberlain to Henrietta, and was afterwards appointed ambassador, was dismissed with the rest of the French ; and Charles sent an express prohibition to Tillieres, that he should not presume to set foot on English shore to be near her Majesty, for that " he would no longer suff'er his sworn servant to be check-mate with him." * De Tillieres was succeeded by the Marquis de Blainville, whom we find keeping up a secret intercourse with the Queen and her numerous estabHshment. His official capacity was favourable to this disguised espionage; and his conduct here was such as to have incurred the peremptory refusal of Charles to allow his admittance to the presence either of the Queen or himself. One of the objects of the mission of De Blainville was to remonstrate on the protection which the EngUsh Court afi'orded to Soubise, one of the chiefs of the French Protestants. But De Blainville had other important objects, and Charles was aware of them. Our acute English commentator on Bas- sompierre^s journal of his short embassy to the English Court, in alluding to Father Sancy's conduct, one of her Majesty^s * Sloane MSS. 198 SECEET HISTORY OF political attendants, observes, that "one is surprised to find the English Court so early and so well apprised of this man's mission, as it appears they were." The fact is, that Charles had no careless intelligencers at the French Court. Larkin was an active agent of the Duke's ; and before De Blainville's arrival in England, his designs had been detected, and Larkin had anticipated his views. He had Avatched closely for them, and two dark speeches of the Queen-Mother and the Cardinal were for some time riddles hard to unriddle, but he succeeded by the open confession of the Duke de Chevreux. " De Blain- ville comes," says Larkin, " to spy and discover what he can, and, according as he shall find cause, to frame cabals and fac- tions, whereunto he is esteemed very proper, being characterised with the marks of a most subtle, prying, penetrating, and dangerous man." * At that time, it was the usage for ambassadors to be main- tained at the expense of the Court, who provided them with house, diet, and even post-horses; and the ambassadors, on their return home, left the marks of their liberality, or their parsimony, in gratuities to the Master of the Ceremonies, and other attendants. This absurd custom was productive of perpe- tual jealousies on the side of the ambassadors, and at length was found so inconvenient at the Exchequer, that Charles was compelled in his distresses to curtail, and finally, to refuse this established mode of royal reception. De Blainville, from the moment of his arrival, insisted on being lodged in the King's Palace, and had reverted to some precedent as far back as the reign of Elizabeth ; but Charles firmly objected to any foreign ambassador residing so close to him. De Blainville was ever on the watch to make what, in the style of the Master of the Ceremonies, is called " an exception j " that is, an allegation of something irregular in etiquette ; and this French ambassador proved the most troublesome of guests to the hapless Master of the Ceremonies. Vaunting his high rank at his own Court, as Monsieur le premier, the first Gentleman of the Chamber, and his own great means, he threatened to refuse his Majesty's diet, and live at his own cost. This seemed tantamount to a procla- * Cabala, fo. 320. THE queen's household. 199 mation of war to the urbane Master of the Ceremonies^ who in his curious diary has registered these " stomachous speeches ^' with great indignation_, and some trepidation. This wayward guest drove poor Sir John Finet to many a cruel shift to allow the ambassador, as a private person, what, if acknowledged to have been granted to him in his public capacity, might have become, that most serious of solemn aflPairs in the eyes of a Master of the Ceremonies — a precedent ! How De Blainville occupied himself here, was doubtless not unobserved; but the best accounts of an ambassador's secret proceedings will usually come from the other side of the water. In a confidential dispatch of the Earl of Holland at Paris, our minister was informed of what he could not himself have so well discovered. " I must tell your Grace, that by a friend whom I am tied not to name, I was showed the private letter that Blainville wrote to the King, in the which he sent him the whole proceedings of the Parliament, and concludes they will ruin you, naming great factions against you/' * De Blainville was evidently exerting an undue influence over the Queen, and sometimes outwitted the most correct arrange- ments of Sir John Finet. Once, on the removal of the Court, and the Queen staying behind, the Marquis's train of coaches and attendants having also set off, and all being prepared for the Marquis's stepping into his own carriage, at this instant he called for the Master of the Ceremonies to confide to him the important secret, that he should stay behind — " pour se purger, as he professed " — a stratagem for his greater freedom of access to the Queen ! His mysterious intercourse became evident, and one day, when the King was going to Parliament, a difference arising between Charles and the Queen about the place where she was to stand, De Blainville was discovered to have occa- sioned her Majesty's obstinacy. From that moment the ambas- sador was forbidden any farther access to their Majesties. The Frenchman stormed, and required an audience ; Charles replied, that " If he demanded an audience for any business of the King his master, it should be readily granted ; but if it was to expos- tulate about his own grievances, his Majesty refused to see * Cabala, p. 252. 200 SECRET HISTORY OF him." The ambassador rephed, that he was here for the King^ his master, and not for himself; the audience, therefore, referred to the person represented, and not to the representative. On the following day, dispatching couriers, and refusing the King's diet, he prepared for his departure. His imperious conduct had often excited the indignation of the mob : the ambassador was assaulted in his house ; and the Master of the Ceremonies notes down, that " the Marquis de Blainville was reputed to be the main boutefeu of our war with France." He has made a lament- able entry in his diary : " the Marquis, after all the vaunts of his own great means, seemed to prefer his ill-humour, for he left the King's officers and servants, (myself in particular, after my so long and painful attendance) ill-satisfied with his none at all, or most unworthy acknowledgements." By the marriage contract, Henrietta was to be allowed a household establishment composed of her own people. As this arrangement was made during the life of James, it was limited to one hundred and twenty persons, in her state as a Princess of Wales. The French afterwards pleaded for an increased estabhshment for her rank as the Queen of England.* Thus they gradually contrived to form nothing less than a small French colony, and, by a private account, it is said to have branched out, with their connexions, to about four hundred persons. This French party was forming a little repubhc within themselves; a political faction among them was furnishing intelligence to their own ambassadors, and spreading rumours in an intercourse with the English malecontents ; while the French domestics, engaged in lower intrigues, were lending their names to hire houses in the suburbs, where, under their protection, the English Catholics found a secure retreat to hold their illegal assembhes, and where the youth of both sexes were educated and prepared to be sent abroad to Catholic seminaries. The Queen's palace was converted into a place of security for the persons and papers of every fugitive. They had not long resided here, ere the mutual jealousies between the two nations broke out. All the English who were not Catholics were soon dismissed from their attendance on the * Mercure Fran9ais, xii. 224. THE QUEENS HOUSEHOLD. 201 Queen, by herself; while Charles was impelled, by the popular cry, to forbid British Catholics serving the Queen, or even to be present at the celebration of her mass. Pursuivants would stand at the door of the Queen's chapel to seize on any of the English who entered^ while> on these occasions, the French would draw their swords to defend the concealed Romanists. " The Queen and Hers," became an odious distinction with the people ; and what seems not improbable, the Papists, presuming on the protection which the late marriage seemed to aflPord them, frequently passed through the churches during divine service, '^hooting and hallooing." A Papist Lord, when the King was at chapel, is accused " of prating on purpose louder when the chaplain prayed," till the King sent his message, " either let him come and do as we do, or else I will make him prate farther off." Such were the indecent scenes exhibited in public ; in private they were> of course, less reserved. Those who have portrayed the Queen as displaying an ascendancy over the political conduct of Charles the First, must at least acknowledge that she had not become a politician by any previous studies, or any disposition towards deep councils. Henrietta first conducted herself as might have been rather expected, than excused, in an inconsiderate Princess of sixteen ; and exhausted her genius and her temper in the frivolous inte- rests of her bed-chamber ladies and her household appointments. Henrietta yielded herself wholly to her confessor, Pere Berulle, afterwards Cardinal, who was soon succeeded by a more offensive character in Father Sancy. The genius of Catholicism is that of Proselytism ; for in that Church, out of whose pale there is no salvation, it is charity to inveigle every human soul to enter, and pious frauds or a more terrific force are alike sanctioned by the only true Church. The Queen, in her zeal, obtruded her papistical ceremonies on the observations of her Protestants. Even at a later period, I find by a Roman Catholic manuscript, that '^on a certain fast-day, the Queen being with child, and refusing to eat flesh, even at the King's request, his Majesty desired the French ambassador to procure a licence from the Roman Catholic Bishop of Calcedon, who, the King knew, lay hid in his house," notwithstanding that a proclamation had been issued against him. This is one more 202 SECEET HISTORY OF evidence, had any been wanting, of the royal connivance with which James and Charles frequently indulged their Roman Catholics, at the moment they were compelled, by some public remonstrance, openly to put the penal laws in force against them. Henrietta indeed, as we have seen, on lier first arrival, had affected to disregard her ghostly confessor. This piece of acting was probably a French lesson, retained for the moment, but it was never got by heart. The Queen's priests, by those well- known means which the Roman religion sanctions, were draw- ing, it was alleged, from the Queen the minutest circumstances which passed in privacy between her and the King. They indisposed her mind against her royal consort ; they impressed on her a contempt for the English nation ; and as was long usual with our egotistical neighbours, they induced her to neglect the English language, as if the Queen of England held no common interest with the nation. Yet all this seemed hardly more offensive than the humiliating state to which they had reduced an English Queen by their monastic obedience. The ascetic austerities of Catholicism, in its daily practices, had occasioned the death of a female of distinction among her attendants, who, on her death- bed, had complained of such rigid penances. On the Queen they had inflicted the most degrading or the most ridiculous penances and mortifications. Her Majesty was seen walking barefoot, or spinning at certain hours, and per- forming menial offices. She even waited on her own domestics; but the most notorious was her Majesty's pilgrimage to Tyburn, to pray under the gallows of those Jesuits who, executed as traitors to Elizabeth and James, were by the Catholics held as martyrs of faith. This incident Bassompierre, in the style of the true French gasconade, declared that " those who formed the accusation did not themselves believe.'' The fact however seems not doubtful ; I find it confirmed by private accounts of the times, and afterwards sanctioned by a State paper. Priestly indiscretion was perpetually exploding. Once, when the King and Queen were dining together in the Presence,* • Tlicro is a curious picture of Charles and Henrietta dining in the Presence, which way be seen at Hampton Court. THE queen's household. 203 Hacket being to say grace, the Queen's confessor would have anticipated him, and an indecorous race was run between the Cathohc priest and the Protestant chaplain, till the latter shoved him aside, and the King pulling the dishes to him, the carvers performed their office. Still the confessor, standing by the Queen, was on the watch to be before Hacket for the after- grace ; but Hacket again got the start. The confessor, however, resounded his grace louder than the chaplain, and the King, in great passion, instantly rose, taking the Queen by the hand. When Henrietta was unexpectedly delivered of an infant, which afterwards died, the Popish priest ran forwards, but the King insisted that the royal infant should be baptised by an English clergyman. A ludicrous anecdote has come down to us, respect- ing the birth of the Duke of York, afterwards James the Second. The nurse being a Roman Catholic, Sir John Tunstone offered the oath of allegiance. She refused it ; they tampered with her to convert her. This threw her into a fright, and spoilt her milk ; the infant suffered. They then resolved to change her, but theQueen was so evidently affected at the proposal, that it was considered necessary for her own health and the nurse's milk, to pass over in silence the oath of allegiance. One of the articles in the contract of marriage was, that the Queen should have a chapel at St. James's, to be built, and con- secrated by the French bishop. The priests became very importunate, declaring that without a chapel mass could not be performed with the state required before a Queen. The King's answer at this moment, as it is mentioned in a letter of the times, betrayed no respect for Popery. " If the Queen's closet, where they now say mass, is not large enough, let them have it in the great chamber, but if the great chamber is not wide enough, they might use the garden, and if the garden would not serve their turn, then was the Park the fittest place." Such was the state of mutual displeasure ! The Prench priests and the whole party slighted, and sometimes worse treated, were wearying others, as they themselves were wearied. To English notions, there was something ludicrous in the person of a lively juvenile Bishop, hardly of age, whose authority was but irreverently treated by two beautiful viragos, Madame 204 SECRET HISTORY OF St. George and anotlier Lady of the Bed-Chamber, in a civil war of wordsi The young Bishop, however, became a more serious personage in his eager contests with the Earl of Holland, about the stewardship of the manors which had been settled on the Queen for her jointure, that office being conferred on the Earl by the King, while the French Bishop claimed it by a grant from her Majesty. In the marriage treaty, many points had been arranged, with small attention to their nature. The French had secured the dower of Henrietta, in case of the death of the King ; but they afterwards discovered that her revenue or jointure during the King's life being a custom unknown to France, had been omitted. This, therefore, though not refused, led to questions whether a Frenchman or an Englishman should be the receiver. Bluster and broils, chatter and clamour, were never ceasing in this troubled French household in an English palace. Madame St. George, her former governess, who stood para- mount in the graces of the Queen, was most intolerably hated by the English. Vivacious and high-spirited, she stood on the perpetual watch to claim her right of place as first Lady of Honour to the Queen. In the full dignity of office, she would thrust herself into the royal carriage, seizing on that seat as her due; which it appears, by De Brienne's Memoirs, was her right, according to the French appointments. She insisted on this, in preference to the English Ladies of higher rank. From the carriage she was once repulsed by the King's own hand, and never was Charles forgiven 1 notwithstanding the blandishment of his munificent presents when he finally dismissed the lady. The custom in France of purchasing appointments in the Royal Household, which some did with all their means, seemed a monstrous anomaly to Charles; nor would he submit to a foreign regulation, which forced on him domestics who were nominated by his brother of France. The unhappy foreigners passed their days in jealousies and bickerings among them- selves, which exposed them to the ridicule of their sarcastic neighbours. We smile at the dispatches of the Ambassador Extraordinary, this great mediator between two kings and a queen, addressed to the minister in France, acknowledging that " the greatest obstacle in this most difficult negotiation, pro- THE QUEENS HOUSEHOLD. 205 ceeded from the hed-chamber women ! " for Marshal Bassom- pierre found more trouble to make these ladies agree, than to accommodate the differences between the two monarchs. A year had not elapsed, when we find Charles himself opening his griefs to the French Monarch ; he complains of the difficulty of access to the Queen ; he is compelled " to manage her servants " to obtain an interview. The King has described her conduct in a very particular manner, in regard to her revenue. '^ One night, when I was a-bed, she put a paper in my hand, telling me it was a list of those that she desired to be of her revenue. I took it, and said I would read it next morning ; but withal told her, that by agreement in France, I had the naming of them. She said there were both English and French in the note. I replied, that those English I thought fit to serve her I would confirm ; but for the French, it was impossible for them to serve her in that nature. Then she said, all those in the paper had breviates from her mother and herself, and that she would admit no other. Then I said, that it was neither in her mother's power nor hers to admit any without my leave, and if she stood upon that, whomsoever she recommended should not come in. Then she bade me plainly take my lands to myself, for if she had no power to put in whom she would in those places, she would have neither lands nor houses of me, but bade me give her what I thought fit in pension. I bade her then remember to whom she spoke, and told her that she ought not to use me so. Then she fell into a passionate discourse, how she is miserable, in having no power to place servants; and that businesses succeeded the worse for her recommendation; which when I offered to answer, she would not so much as hear me. Then she went on saying she was not of that base quality to be used so ill. Then I made her both hear me, and end that discourse." An interesting bed-curtain lecture ! We may be sure of its accuracy, not only as it bears the sign-manual, but because it is full of nature and truth, as some critics will be more able to decide than others. It is evident that Charles must have acquired a perfect mastery of the language of his pouting Queen, to have been enabled so completely to have maintained his rights, and so successfully to have circumscribed hers. 206 SECRET HISTORY OF The French establishment was daily increasing in number and expense, but the grievances were of a more delicate nature. The personal happiness of the King and the tranquillity of the people were involved in a French and Roman Catholic faction in the English Court. The most obnoxious person was Father Sancy, who was instigating the Queen to the most unqualified demands, urging the treaty to a tittle. He was extremely offen- sive to Charles, and is unquestionably the person alluded to in Charles the First's letter to Louis the Thirteenth. " I will also omit the affront she did me, before my going to this last unhappy assembly of Parliament, because there has been talk enough of that already, &c. The author of it is before you in France." Charles indeed had expelled Father Sancy, and sent him back. We shall shortly see what sort of an actor he was in this political pantomime. The single act of sovereignty alone could triumph over these domestic and public troubles. And this Charles at length resolved on, at the risk and menace of a war with France. In November 1625, Charles wrote to Buckingham, who was at Paris, that he was then deliberating on the most convenient means " to cashier " the whole party, for " I am resolved it must be done, and that shortly." He transmits by the same cornier a double letter to Buckingham, which he might read to the Queen-Mother, that the measure might not come unex- pected. The firmness of Charles on this occasion originated with the King himself, and not with the Duke, as the French themselves and some historians have supposed. The dismissal of these persons was not the act of a hasty and vindictive monarch; for though his resolution appears in November 1625, it was delayed till July of the following year. One evening, accompanied by his officers of state, he summoned the French household to Somerset House. He addressed them without anger. " Gentlemen and Ladies, " I am driven to that extremity, as I am personally come to acquaint you, that I very earnestly desire your return into France. True it is, the deportment of some amongst you hath been very inoffensive to me; but others again have so THE queen's household. 207 dallied with my patience, and so highly affronted me, as I cannot, and will no longer endure it." * The King's address implicating no one, was immediately followed by a volley of protestations of innocence. The Bishop desired to learn his fault, that he might defend himself while here : while the haughty Madame St. George, now seconding the young Bishop in their common cause, referred the King to her mistress. "Sir, I make no question but the Queen will give a fair testimonial of my conduct to your Majesty.^' The King, in departing, only replied, " I name none." All bowed to the King, and he returned the compliment.t The Queen, overcome with grief and anger, impetuously remon- strated with the King. Her tender years had not yet suffered so open an indignity. Was a daughter of France and a Queen of England to be treated like a prisoner, rather than a Princess ? — Was she not to retain even a domestic, but at the precarious pleasure of her husband's will? It required the strength of character of Charles not to have yielded to the tears or the rage of his youthful Queen, who, in her vehement anger, is said to have broken several panes of the window where she stood taking a sad farewell of her confidential companions and servants, till the King forcibly dragged her away, and bade her " be satisfied, for it must be so." An hour after the King had delivered his commands. Lord Conway announced to the foreigners, that early in the morning carriages and carts and horses would be ready for them and their baggage. Amid a scene of confusion, the young Bishop protested that this was impossible, that they owed debts in London, and that much was due to them. On the following day, the Procureur-General of the Queen flew to the Keeper of the Great Seal at the Privy Council, requiring an admission to address his Majesty, then present at his Council, on matters important to himself and the Queen. This being denied, he * L' Estrange, + The account of the Mermre Frcmfaise, drawn up by one of the parties, closely agrees with that which I find in Ramon L' Estrange, the first English historian of Charles. The French writer, however, adds, that " Some of us observed that the King's countenance was sad, and he seemed to hesitate in speaking to us, which the Earl of Holland perceiving, he whispered three or four words behind the King." 208 SECRET HISTORY OP exhorted them to maintain the Queen in all her royal prero- gatives, and he was answered, " So we do." Their prayers and disputes served to postpone their departure. Their conduct during this time was not very decorous. It appears, by a contemporary letter-writer, that they flew to take possession of the Queen's wardrobe and jewels. They did not leave her a change of linen, since it was with difficulty her Majesty procured one. Every one now looked to lay his hand on what he might call his own. Everything he could touch was a perquisite. One extraordinary expedient was that of inventing bills to the amount of ten thousand pounds, for articles, and other engagements in which they had entered for the service of the Queen, which her Majesty acknowledged, but afterwards confessed that the debts were fictitious. Even " the Bishop's unholy water " served to swell the accounts. In truth, the breaking up of this French establishment was ruinous to the individuals who had purchased their places at the rate of life-annuities. The French party were still protracting and resisting. The King's verbal dismissal had been delivered on the 1st of July, and the French were still here on the 7th of August, as we find by a note from the King to Buckingham. Its indignant style, some historical critics, with too little knowledge of personal history, have quoted as an evidence of Charles's unfeeling, tyrannical temper. " Steenie, "I have receaved your letter by Die Greame (Sir Richard Graham). This is my answer. I command you to send all the French away to-morrow out of the towne, if you can by fair meanes, (but stike not long in disputing,) otherways force them away, dryving them away lyke so manic wilde beastes, until ye have shipped them, and so the devil goe with them. Let me heare no answer, but of the performance of my command. So I rest Your faithful, constant, loving friend, '' C. R." « Oaking, the 7th of August, 1626.'* Charles wrote in honest anger; yet, notwithstanding his per- sonal provocations, he was still tender of their feelings and their interests. He discharged even the fictitious debts, and THE queen's household. 209 provided for their pensions, at the cost, as it appears, of fifty thousand pounds. Even the haughty beauty, Madame St. George, was presented by the King, on her dismission, with several thousand pounds and jewels. The French Bishop and the whole party having contrived all sorts of delays to avoid the expulsion, the yeomen of the guards were sent to turn them out of Somerset-house, whence the juvenile prelate, at the same time making his protest and mounting the steps of the coach, took his departure " head and shoulders." In a long procession of near forty coaches, after four days' tedious travelling, they reached Dover, but the spec- tacle of these impatient foreigners, so reluctantly quitting England, gesticulating their sorrows, or their quarrels, exposed them to the derision and stirred up the prejudices of the common people. As Madame St. George, whose vivacity is always described as extravagantly French, was stepping into the boat, one of the mob could not resist the satisfaction of flinging a stone at her French cap. An English courtier, who was conducting lier, instantly quitted his charge, ran the fellow through the body, and quietly returned to the boat. The man died on the spot, but no farther notice appears to have been taken of the inconsiderate gallantry of this English courtier. To satisfy the King and Queen of France, Lord Carleton was sent over to Paris, and very ill received ; Marshal Bassompierre was dispatched to London, as ambassador extraordinary, to remonstrate with Charles. The first open insult from the French Court was the reap- pearance of the obnoxious Father Sancy, in the suite of Bassom- pierre. Charles signified his instant command that he should be sent back to France, but this the Marshal, according to his instructions, refused; observing, that the King could have nothing to do with his domestic arrangements, by which Father Sancy occupied the place of his confessor. This, however, was but the public language of that adroit ambassador, and not his private opinion; for he had remonstrated with his King and the Queen-Mother of France, on the impropriety of forcing this intermeddler on him, and he had foreseen the offence the presence of Sancy would occasion to the English monarch. The commentator on "the Embassy of the Marshal Bassompierre VOL. I. P 210 SECRET HISTORY OF to the Court of England," in perceiving the jealousy which Charles entertained of this embassy, could not discover "why this man was so peculiarly agreeable to one Court, and so peculiarly offensive to the other." This knot is not difficult to untie. This political religionist, by consulting in his conduct the pleasure and interest of one Court, was, in fact, necessarily incurring the jealousy and anger of the other. We have already shown that Father Sancy was expelled by Charles, and there is no doubt that he was secretly invested with some dominant authority from the Queen-Mother ; for Bassompierre discovered, that when the Queen quarrelled, both with her husband and with himself, as ambassador. Father Sancy was at the bottom of the intrigue, and maintained his authority with such audacity, that Bassompierre found out that the ambassador was not the chief person in the embassy. Charles thrice insisted on sending back Father Sancy, before he would grant a private audience. The Marshal could only promise that the Father should remain confined to his house, nor ever show himself either at Court or in the city. No specific ground of complaint had been produced against this " domestic ;" as Bassompierre observed, " This Father was neither guilty, nor condemned, nor accused;" and yet we see that Charles would tolerate his presence on no account. It is evident that his offences were of a nature not less grievous than delicate; ofi'ences which Charles would not condescend to detail, but which, if we connect with the circumstance alluded to in his letter to his brother of France ; the former expulsion of Father Sancy when Henrietta's confessor from the English Court ; the intriguing character of this political instrument of the Roj^al Family of France ; the promise of Bassompierre that Sancy should not be seen either at Court, or in the city ; and certain rumours pre- valent at the time that the Queen had violated her secret inter- course with the King, by disclosures to her confessor, we cannot but infer that this espion of a priest would be meddling with other matters than religion. The reception of Bassompierre, before he reached London, was studiedly uncivil, in order to balance the cold entertainment which Lord Carleton had suffered at Paris. The Master of the Ceremonies was ordered not to meet him nearer than at THE QUEENS HOUSEHOLD. 211 Gravesend, and to prepare no house, all which the Marshal perfectly understood, and refused the King's diet, for that " he would not eat at another's expense in his own house." And at his first interview with the King, at Hampton Court, he came too late, " purposely it was thought," for the dinner which had been prepared; and when "a collation was then set on the table, it remained untasted by him or his fellows," from whence Sir John Finet, in the ambassador's loss of appetite, sagaciously predicted war ! war ! war ! We have a curious account by the French Marshal, how Charles was so personally indignant at the matters proposed to be discussed, and so disconcerted lest the womanish passions of the Queen would break out at a public interview, that he refused to grant one. This intelligence was conveyed by Buck- ingham, who was at a loss how to proceed in this delicate conjecture, and confidentially begged for the advice of the French Marshal. The vivacious Gaul, who found himself on the point of receiving this affront, to save himself], and at the same time to insinuate himself into the good graces of Buckingham, hit on an expedient worthy of French diplomacy. After a pompous declaration, that " he could not act otherwise than as had been prescribed by his royal master, he granted that the King of England might shorten or lengthen the audience he demanded, in what manner he would." It was then the French Marshal threw out a project how both parties might save their honour. This cunning child of diplomatic etiquette suggested that the King, being then at Hampton Court, might, " after having allowed me to make him my bow, and having received with the King's letters my first compliments, when I should come to open to him the occasion of my coming, the King may interrupt me, and say. Sir, you are come from London, and you have to return thither ; it is late, this matter requires a longer time than I could now give you. I shall send for you at an earlier hour, &c., and after some civil expressions about the King, my brother-in- law, and the Queen, my mother-in-law, his Majesty will add, that he would not further delay the impatience of the Queen, my wife, has to hear of them from yourself. Upon which I shall take my leave of him, to make my bow to the Queen." Buckingham appears to have been enraptured by this notable p 2 212 SECRET HISTORY OF preconcerted public interview. The English Duke embraced the French Marshal, exclaiming," You know more of these things than we ! " and went away laughing, to tell the King of this expedient, who accepted it, and it appears most punctually conned over his part. At length, a stormy interview took place. De Blainville appears to have been sent to quarrel with the King, but Bas- sompierre to hold him in awe. Charles could not restrain the heat of his temper, and once exclaimed to the ambassador, " Wliy do you not execute your commission at once, and declare war ? ** Bassompierre's answer was firm and dignified — " I am not a herald to declare war, but a Marshal of France to make it when declared." The King was firm, and even stern during the discussion, but he seems to have been struck by the temper, the presence of mind, and ingenuity of Bassompierre. At the close of the audience, his own temper became more mollified, and the King himself conducted the Marshal through several galleries to the Queen's apartments, where he left him, and subsequently honoured the French Marshal with all the civilities, in his private character, which Charles had denied to his public. This mission was a total failure, and the French Marshal, "with all his vaunts and his menaces, discovered that Charles "was inflexible, and sternly offered the alternative of war, rather than permit a French faction to be planted in an English court. At this moment, Charles the First was the true representative of his subjects, and the sovereign participated in the same feel- ings with his people. Four years afterwards, when the attempt was again revived, of settling a French bishop and a French physician about the Queen, Charles absolutely refused them admittance; and it appears by Panzani's Memoirs, that when Charles learnt that the Abbe du Perron, the Queen's confessor, was raised to a bishoprick in France, he was earnest in desiring his recall. So jealous was the English monarch of any Catholic bishop at London, and in close communication with the Queen, without his sanction. The Court of England, too, was always wary of the liberties which foreign ambassadors took in admitting English Catholics into their chapels, for the English Catholics would be divided into French and Spanish factions by the bishops of either nation.* * Panzani, 185. THE queen's household. 213 Bassompierre returned home mortified at the intractable character both of the English monarch and the English nation. In addressing the former French bishop who had been sent off, the Marshal writes, " See, Sir, to what we are reduced ! and imagine my grief, that the Queen of Great Britain has the pain of viewing my departure, without being of any service to her; but if you consider that I was sent here to make a contract of marriage observed, and to maintain the Catholic religion, in a country from which they formerly banished it to break a con- tract of marriage, you will assist in excusing me of this failure/' This affair of the French Household, which constituted a party of French politics and Roman Catholicism under the roof of the Sovereign, was one of those intricate cases, where politi- cal expediency seems to violate all moral right. The Queen and her party were obstinately pressing for the treaty, but all promises and conventions in State-treaties imply, that affairs should not change, so as to affect the interests of the State. The intention is more concerned in these treaties, than that strictness of terms which might possibly exact the performance of that which should never have been required, any more than it should have been granted. If French politics were fomenting civil discord, and Roman Catholicism exciting odium among his own people, — Charles would have indeed betrayed his weakness as a Sovereign, had he not dismissed the French party. Louis the Thirteenth had found himself in a parallel, though not so perplexing a state, with his own foreign Princess, and was compelled to discard her Spanish household; and while the French monarch was now complaining of the violation of the treaty, he well knew that it could never be carried into execution. The subscribing parties to this deed of imposture and insincerity, had never imagined that the treaty in all its details should be carried into effect; and this was honestly acknowledged by the very Ambassador Extraordinary who came to complain of its infraction. This history of the household of the Queen of Charles the First, would be imperfect were we to pass unnoticed the return of a certain number of priests for the religious service of the Queen, four years after this dismissal. The r entree was granted at the peace, at once public and domestic, between the two Courts, 214 SECRET HISTORY OF The manuscript memoir of one of the Capuchins who was employed in " the Mission of England," as he denominates his residence here, supplies some curious particulars. Of these missionaries, for such they deemed themselves, and as such they were regarded by Urban the Eighth, we may observe their system, their designs, the little artifices they practised, and other details of the conversions of many English persons of both sexes. The Capuchins was an order which professed the severest asceticism ; and the English Catholics rejoiced as if these men had come from Heaven, that those who had abandoned the faith of their ancestors might once more contemplate, in the very habits worn by these missionaries, the poverty of Jesus ; in their manners, the humility of the Gospel, and in their language the contempt of riches and pleasure. The people were struck with their long beards and their monachal dresses, and crowds came to see a class of men, whose voluntary mortifications seemed to have been long forgotten among a people, who, even at this period, according to the representations of many foreigners, enjoyed more personal comforts, a word said to be peculiar to ourselves, than were to be found among other nations. The good fathers, discovering that their apparent state of self-mortification seemed to raise the wonder of their visitors, practised a little pious fraud. The Capuchin historian ingenuously observes, " The land of the English is abundant, and without taxes ; the inhabi- tants lead easy lives, far removed from the miseries of other places, which accounts for the surprise with which the sight of our austerities strangely affected them." To edify them and incline them to a holy conversion, they resolved, with one com- mon consent, to add something striking and sensible to their usual austerities. Their beds consisted of a paillasse, a straw pillow, and a coverlet. They took out every morning the paillasses and the pillows, exposing to the eye the rough naked boards on which they lay, and placed an unhewn block of wood for a pillow-case. This apparent rigour was admired by the English, whose curiosity led them into the chamber of the Capuchins, and when they seemed touched by the inspection of this hard life, then they were reminded of the suff'ering life of Jesus; that they must imitate St. Paul, who, confirmed in ^race, mortified his flesh ; and at last, with a gentle close, they THE queen's household. 215 were exhorted to think of the importance of hving and dying in the true religion where these things are practised. These showy austerities seem to have produced a certain effect. The fathers, too, without loss of time, among their penances, had set about learning the English language, and within a year were capable of receiving confessions in the native language of their penitents; but the greater number of confessions were made after the building of the chapel, of which her Majesty laid the foundations with her own royal hands. The detail of the remarkable opening of the Queen's Chapel is a curiosity of picturesque devotion. It may serve, at least, as a splendid evidence of a scenical religion, and the art of getting up something like a modern opera, or rather an ancient mystery, aided by all the magic of the voice and the instrument, and the optical illusions of perspective. In 1636, the Queen's Chapel was erected, and "to give greater glory to God, and esteem for the Roman Catholic reli- gion to the Huguenots, her Majesty would hear the first mass celebrated with all the pomp and magnificence possible." The Capuchins were commanded to omit nothing which they could invent to render the solemnity more august. An illustrious sculptor had recently arrived from Rome, to whom they applied to assist the pious design. He graciously assented. He raised a machine, the admiration of the most ingenious artists, to exhibit the most holy sacraments with the greatest majesty. A paradise of glory, adapted to the dome of the chapel, was raised forty feet in height ; a broad arch was sustained by two columns before the great altar ; the spaces between the columns and the walls served as passages to pass from the sacristy to the altar ; the choirs of music were placed with the organs and the other instruments at both sides of the empty spaces. In the opening on each side appeared a prophet with a scroll of pro- phecy, and above the arch was viewed the portative altar, to which they ascended by three divisions of steps. The greatest, in front, had a balustrade, which admitted a full view of the altar to the assistants, and those on either side were surrounded also by balusters, where the priests, di-essed in their pontifical habits, without interruption of the people, were viewed ascending or descending to and from the altar. 216 SECRET HISTORY OF At the back of the altar was the Paradise elevated above circles of clouds, in which were intermingled the figures of angels, archangels, of cherubims and seraphims, to the number of two hundred : there some seemed adoring the holy sacrament, others were singing, or touching all sorts of musical instruments, —painted according to the rules of perspective ; the most holy- sacrament was the point of sight where the concealed lights, which were of graduated dimensions, made the depth and the distance appear very great ; and the number of figures seemed doubled, deceiving by an ingenious artifice, not only the eyes but also the ears, for every one imagined, on looking on that Paradise, that they were listening to the melodies played by angels. Of the circles of clouds, the first were the widest, diminishing in proportion to the last. The three first circles contained the angels larger than the natural size, seated on clouds, singing and playing; in the fourth and fifth were also angels, habited as Diacres, holding censers ; others Navettes, those silver vessels in the shape of a ship, in which incense is burned; while others, on their knees, were suppliants ; and others, prostrated, were pointing to the holy sacrament; all of size proportioned to their distances. In the sixth and seventh circles, winged chil- dren, in various attitudes, like young angels, were seen coming out of a cloud, playing together, but with gestures full of respect, inviting the people to rejoice with them at the sight of the ador- able sacrament. In the eighth and ninth circles, appeared the cherubim and the seraphim, among the clouds, surrounded by luminous rays, contrived by a most singular artifice. The place where was laid the holy sacrament, had a ground of gold, sur- rounded by a deep red oval, with golden beams, so that it seemed a celestial fire. Four hundred lights, besides a great multitude of tapers, artistically arranged upon the altar, lighted the first circle. These things being thus disposed, the whole was covered over by two curtains. When the Queen entered with her Court to celebrate mass, and had taken her seat, the curtains were drawn, and these wonders suddenly burst on the spectators, to the admiration, the joy, and the devotion of her Majesty, and all the Catholics; at the same moment, the musicians and choristers THE QUEENS HOUSEHOLD. 217 resounded a motet of soft harmony, seeming to come out of the clouds and the angelic figures. Paradise was opening, and the angels were musicians ! so it seemed, for the singers them- selves were hidden, and thus the eye and the ear rejoiced in this subject of piety and artifice. The motet or hymn finished, the Accolytes, the Soudiacres, and the Diacres, and my Lord du Perron, Bishop of Angouleme, and grand almoner to the Queen, dressed in their pontifical habits, issued from the sacristy, mounted the eight steps of the altar, celebrated with the greatest solemnities the holy mass, which was chaunted in eight divisions so melodiously, that nothing less than a heart of stone but would have been deeply touched ; tears of joy were seen to fall f^:om the eyes of the Queen, considering in this pious and splendid ceremony the grace which God had bestowed on her, to raise a church where the divine offices were celebratied^ which heresy had banished from England for more than one hundred years. The mass celebrated, a multitude of Catholics crowded to receive the holy communion from the hand of the bishop, who gave his benediction and dispensed his indulgences. After dinner, her Majesty again returned to vespers, and complines, and the sermon. Messieurs the musicians, perceiving the eff"ect they had produced on the Queen at the morning service, now surpassed themselves. At the close of vespers, the Archbishop delivered a pathetic sermon, congratulating the Queen on having a Catholic church, and publicly celebrating divine service, which had been abolished so many years in England, Scotland, and Ireland. Great was the applause of the audience." Those who were in the chapel, found it difficult to issue from the vast confluence of people, who forced their way to witness the magnificence. This continued influx lasted so long, that it was impossible to close the gates of the church till the third night, when the King commanded that they should all retire. He came himself to be a spectator of this magni- ficent representation, accompanied by his Grand Marechal, the Comptroller of the Household, and other Lords — he admired the artifice — he kept his eyes long on the beautiful scene — declared that he had never viewed anything more beautiful, nor of a happier invention. The chapel thus ornamented, was kept open from the 8th of December to Christmas, consecrated 218 SECRET HISTORY OP THE QUEEN's HOUSEHOLD. to the immaculate conception of the most holy Virgin. Crowds flocked, and waited two or three hours before they could enter a confessional. They held controversies and conferences, to confirm the Faithful and to reclaim the Heretic. The historian exults in a favourite argument, by which it was inevitably shown that there could be no salvation for separatists from the true Apostolical and Roman Church ; but some Protestants, who had conceived that this glorious proposition was false, were desirous of receiving more solid reasons for their maturer consideration — of these, we are told that many, convinced of its truth, renounced their errors. One of the Capuchins held secret interviews with some of our divines, intimate friends of the Archbishop of Canterbury, who, with the Archbishop, were desirous of approximating the two churches so nearly together^ that an union might be insensibly formed. Before the arrival of these Capuchins, we are told that the schismatics had a strange aversion to the Pope and the Catho- lics— they really believed that his Holiness was the Antichrist, — and the Catholics, idolaters, persecutors, seditious, and enemies of peace and kings. Our memorialist describes the Represen- tatives of the English people : " So many persons collected together from all parts of the country, who compose the Parlia- ment, had issued against them (the Papists), the most terrible ordinances — for the simplicity of the more moderate had been sadly imposed on." The Capuchin has collected together all the penal laws against the Roman Catholics — a code of blood and persecution equal to any they could themselves have dictated 1 But "the ancient piety of the English," which our simple fathers were flattering themselves they were to revive, and which had even lasted through the reign of "the barbarous Queen " (Elizabeth), could only be beaten down by " the cruelty of the Protestants " in " the mad fury of a regicide Parliament." As a prelude to what is to follow, I find a parallel closely run through a long page or two, between the Jews mocking at Jesus Christ, and the Protestants, who had lately pulled down a cru- cifix, and were very nearly pulling at the beards of les Peres Capuchins themselves. At length, when the day aiTived that the Queen unexpectedly left her palace, never to return to it, the WAR WITH FRANCE. 219 mission, wliicli had hitherto proceeded quietly, became strangely inconvenienced. Nothing now but spitting and coughing at their sermons. " The Puritans '^ had now resolved to abolish the very name of Catholic in England — Exinanite, exinanite, ttsque ad fundamentum !^ The solemn omen of their impending destruction has been chronicled by our memorialist. One morning they assembled to perform the august ceremony of the most holy mass — -preparing to take out the Ciboire, the vase which held the body of their God— in opening the cup- board— the host was not there! Tremour and agony and despair shook the brotherhood, who looking on each other in dismay, felt like the ancient Jews when the Shekinah had de- parted from them, — when the veil was rent from the Holy of Holies, and nothing was to be seen but a naked wall. What followed shortly after, seemed to be connected with the mali- cious sacrilege of all their consecrated wafers. The Puritans sent three thousand apprentices to the Parliament, to demand the expulsion of the Capuchins from England. The fathers awaited their death by the side of their altars, where they were prepared to suffer the blessings of martyrdom ; but they were only sent to prison for a month, and then shipped off for Calais. Thus terminated the history of the household of our Catholic Queen, Henrietta-Maria. CHAPTER XVI. WAR WITH FRANCE. — CAUSES OF THE WAR. — NATURE OF THE PROTESTANT PARTY IN FRANCE.— EXPEDITION TO LA ROCHELLE. " Charles," says Hume, " as if the half of Europe, now his enemy, was not sufficient for the exercise of military prowess, wantonly attacked France." The war with France has been traced to the personal * Observe the nature of intolerance. This very passage was applied by the Jesuits when they razed the foundations of the Port Royal. Whenever the per- secutors in their turn become the persecuted, they speak aUke. 220 WAR WITH FRANCIT. resentments of Buckingham, for an affront he received from the French monarch, in consequence of his ambitious gallantries with " a lady of a very sublime quality," as Lord Clarendon, in his courtly delicacy, guardedly describes the eminent female. She was a lady who exercised in "a sovereign degree all the coquetry and intrigue of her nation," says Cardinal de Retz, furnishing us even with a list of her lovers, in which he has not omitted the English Duke. When Buckingham proposed to revisit the French Court as ambassador, Bassompierre, in conformity with his instructions, assured him, that for reasons well known to himself, he would not be received. Lord Clarendon's anecdote, that Buckingham " swore in the instant, that he would see and speak with that lady in spite of all the power of France," may be true enough, and in this lover's vow his lordship detects the origin of the French war ! Our philosophic Hume, with his habitual ease, adopts the Court-gossip of Clarendon, which was too pleasant and romantic entirely to be passed over by memoir-writers, but his sagacity could not fail to betray its astonishnent. " All authentic me- moirs," says Hume, "both foreign and domestic, represent him (Buckingham) as actuated by motives which would appear incre- dible, were we not sufficiently acquainted with the violence and temerity of his character." If we have now learnt the cause, the story would remain imperfect, were we not also informed of the intention of the war, and the means of carrying the covert point here alleged. Buckingham's end in a war with France was the remote view of being employed as the ambassador, who was to reconcile the two crowns, and by this circuitous route to arrive at length at the Louvre and visit his mistress. Were this the fact, Buckingham must be considered as a more intrepid hero, than any we may find in a folio romance ; for well he knew that, though by no means a disappointed lover, his double rival in love and politics, the famous Cardinal, had an eye over him, whose glances were poignards ; and that the French noblesse had vowed to avenge in the blood of the foreigner the honour of their Sovereign. He knew this, for he had hardly escaped assassination. It must be acknowledged that, when we calculate the nice contingencies and the uncertain WAR WITH FRANCE. 221 cliances of the plan which made a war between two great nations, because, in accommodating a consequent peace, an errant knight might acquire an opportunity of visiting a fair lady, at whose feet he was to perish, the adventure might enter into a political system, which would have illustrated the history of the immortal Don of Cervantes. Well may we exclaim with Hume, that the assigned cause of this war with France "is incredible." Hume, in his day, was not supplied with some of the most valuable materials of our history at this period. Dr. Lingard has sensibly observed, that "it is plain that what- ever may have been the secret motives of Buckingham, he must have alleged some very different reason in defence of a measure which threatened to prove so prejudicial to the interests of his own Sovereign." And, surely, had our historians less servilely copied such unhistorical facts, and such unnatural pretexts from the Lord High Chancellor of human nature, and had looked into what had recently occurred between the French and English courts, and what was then passing in France, they might have discovered causes more obvious, and interests far deeper, to instigate a French war than the " incredible one." The elements of war are often gradually accumulating before they settle into an open rupture. Like petty domestic quarrels, they seem insignificant and partial, till at length we are sur- prised that these fractional disputes close into one mighty and irreconcilable enmity. The marriage of Charles was highly political on both sides, and as such it was acted on immediately by the French Cabinet. The French party here, we have seen, was obnoxious to Charles. The dismissal of the French Household had nearly produced a war. Charles was prepared to offer the alternative, and it would have been accepted by Louis, had the French monarch at that moment been in a condition to maintain one. This is the opinion of one of the Capuchins who at a later day attended on the Queen, and it seems probable, when we observe the French Government so fully occupied in putting down the Huguenot Insurgents; a war with England would have reinforced the French Protestants with a potent ally. But a more pressing motive for war with France originated 222 WAR WITH FRANCE. in that system of politics which since the administration of EHzabeth, had created one of our great State-interests — the adoption of the cause of foreign Protestants. Whenever the standard was raised by those of " the Rehgion," as the term was applied at this period, they always looked up to England as their nursing mother, or their armed champion ; and in England the malecontents of France were sure to find a secret or an open ally. But war on these occasions did not always show itself with an open front, nor was it always heralded by generous principles ; it crept out of secret intrigues, and wound about in concealment, till concealment ceased to be practicable. The leading chiefs of the French Protestants, or as the French describe them, the Calvinists of France, were the Duke of Eohan, and his brother Soubise. Of a princely origin, the Duke was allied to many crowned heads, but his genius was even more elevated than his rank. Ilis heroism was only equalled by his fortitude ; he was one of those great commanders who remain unconquered when the enemy is most successful. Such were his talents, that he would have been a distinguished man in Europe, had he been born among the obscurest classes of society.* His brother Soubise, with whom our own history is more intimately connected, participated in all the party or the factious zeal of his eminent brother, without any portion of his courage or his capacity. The Protestants of France then constituted a more formidable body in that kingdom, than the Roman Catholics in England. Their general assemblies, which annually met, always occasioned great uneasiness in the French Cabinet, and they were so numerous and powerful as to have their resident deputies at the Louvre, ever prompt to disturb the royal audience by volumi- nous cahiers of remonstrances and petitions. If Henry the Fourth, as a great Statesman, had complied with the forms of the national religion, he had never forsaken the cause of those to whom perhaps he was secretly attached ; and the tolerating * His " Memoii'8 " are well known, but a little volume composed in his retirement at Venice, Les Tntcretts dcs Pnnces, was long the manual of politicians, and may still be studied. It is here we find this curious reflection, " England is a great animal which can never die, unless it destroys itself." The Duke was in England and Scot- land. Elizabeth called him " her knight," and James the First requested him to stand sponsor at the baptism of Chai'les the First. WAR WITH FEANCE. 223 Edict of Nantes had conferred on his Protestants, as large a portion of freedom as could be safely allowed to a hostile minority in the State. The regency of Mary of Medicis had passed in struggles with the haughty Princes of the blood, and a nobility not less potent than factious ; insatiate in their claims, and restless with ambi- tion, they seemed at times to aspire to separate sovereignties. Disdaining the feeble government of a female, whose views seemed narrowed to her palace, and who had concentrated her passions in her Florentine favourites, these Princes and Dukes were in a perpetual state of confederacy and rebellion. At length the favourites fell the hateful victims of the State. Among the powerful malecontents the Huguenot party had found friends and chieftains, who had often coalesced with the Protestants, without always being Protestants themselves. Four civil wars, and frequent revolts, were as often concluded by a peace with an un vanquished party. Such a peace could only be a truce; a suspension of hostilities till one party regained the supe- riority they had lost ; deceptive treaties were signed, and when the Deputies of the Huguenots insisted on the demolition of certain forts, accordiug to the articles of the treaty, the demand was never refused but only evaded. The Huguenots might learn, that in a treaty, when one party requires the other to do that for them which they cannot do themselves, the compact will be most obstinately violated. The French Cabinet, before Cardinal Richelieu's accession to the fulness of his power, was a miserable junto of intriguing Ministers, solely intent on dis- lodging each other. The genius of Richelieu alone could at once subdue an indomitable aristocracy, and a whole people of heroes — the Huguenots of France. But the day of Richelieu's triumph had not yet arrived. The Protestants of France were as formidable as ever. The sea-port of La Rochelle might be considered as the metropolitan city of the Protestantism of France. It was a town haughty from its independence, for its citizens had never forgotten that a Sovereign of France, Louis the Eleventh, had sworn on his knees never to invade their privileges. It had long formed a Government in France, independent of France; it was a Republic in a Monarchy. 224 WAR WITH FRANCE. The Catholic had long looked on La Rochellc with horror as the nest of heresy and rebellion ; and among the most curious circumstances in the early life of the renowned Cardinal, is, as he has himself told us, that when only a juvenile and obscure Bishop residing in his diocese of Lu9on, in the neighbourhood of La Rochelle, among his dreams and vain imaginations, often would his solitary thoughts turn towards that unholy spot, musing on means to reduce it to that obedience which it had long rejected. This reverie of his youth he had cast aside among other chimerical fancies. The cause of the French Protestants could not be separated from that of civil freedom and political independence; and La Kochelle was to be in France, its cradle or its grave. The independence of the party and the place was so deeply cherished in the minds of the nobles of France, as a balance in the State against the despotic predominance of royal authority, which already appeared in the rising Favourite, that Bassompierre, with his characteristic frankness, revealed the secret thought of his companions, when serving against La Bochelle he sarcastically observed, " We shall be mad enough to take it." Historians, who have considered La Bochelle merely as the strong hold of the Reformed, and beheld in its terrific siege only a spectacle of sectarian fanaticism, have fallen into a great error. So easy is it to mistake that spirit of political indepen- dence, whose devotion is fervid as that of religion, and which can boast of martyrs not less numerous. In the afflicting history of La Bochelle, through all its unparalleled suflPerings, the Protestants have only viewed an immolation to the Moloch of Catholicism. Even a great philosopher, in an unguarded moment, once adopted the popular appearance of this memor- able scene. It is a curious fact, that Hume, in the first edition of his history, in alluding to the horrors of the siege of La E-ochelle, closed with this observjition : " Such mighty influence had the religious spirit over that sect, and so much did it over- balance in their breasts every motive of self-preservation, of duty to their friends, and of regard to their native country." This reflection was erased in a subsequent edition. It is pro- bable that, on maturer study, Hume discovered the secret con- nexion between the higher political parties in France and the PROTESTANTS IN FRANCE. 225 French Protestants ; that the cause of civil freedom was entan- gled with the cause of the " new religion ; " that if they suppressed " every motive of self-preservation/^ it was because they well knew that, after four civil wars and continual revolts, there were no longer any terms for the citizens of La Rochelle ; and that so far from violating their " duty to their friends, and their regard to their native country," they perished by the inspiration of their patriotism and their honour. Perhaps, too, Hume might have discovered the fact, that in the eventful siege of La Rochelle, all those who would have sacrificed their lives for its preservation were not contained within its walls, for many such might have been found in the ranks of that very army which came to annihilate it. These were not sectaries : they held not the same religious creed; but in the fate of La E-ochelle, they contemplated the fall of political freedom in France. A secret correspondence with the citizens of La E/Ochelle had been opened with England. Already Soubise had assumed the novel style of "Admiral of the Churches," on the coast of Saintonge, Aunis, Poitou, and Bretagne. Soubise, accompanied by Saiut-Blancard, the confidential friend of his brother, had passed over into England, as deputies or agents for the Eochel- lers, and though they were not yet publicly received at our Court, the repeated complaints of the French ambassadors prove that the secret intercourse must have been uninterrupted. Vast plans of ambition were opened in the bold sketches of these French princes, not ill-adapted to dazzle the eyes of a young monarch and a young minister. One of the reveries of the Duke of Rohan was to form federative republics in France ; to create independent Protestant States between the Loire and the Garonne. The English were to invade France at three different points. They found that a single one proved fataK Mr. Montague was negotiating with the Duke of Savoy, the Duke of Lorraine, and the Duke of Rohan. Richelieu suffered the youthful statesman to mature his negotiations, till the Car- dinal contrived to lodge him in the Bastille. When his Eminence had digested at leisure all these ingenious schemes, which let him into the secret designs of the enemies of France, he had obtained all the good he could by the imprisonment of the young diplomatist, and raised no objection, on the intercession VOL. I. Q 220 PROTESTANTS IN FRANCE. of our Henrietta, to restore the baffled envoy for some happier mission. Soubise charmed the imagination of the English minister, with the prospective view of the fleet and army of England appearing before La Rochelle, — Rochelle herself open- ing her gates, Rohan raising his standard, and a hundred thousand Huguenots flying to arms, to greet the deliverer of the Protestants in the person of Buckingham. Such are the visions by which clandestine suppliants enchant our ministers, when our ministers are sanguine and determined ! The expedition to Cadiz, though it had performed no exploit, was, however, in some respect beneficial, as Buckingham told the Parliament; for this demonstration of our national energy had not only struck a terror into Spain, and, by intercepting her trade, had prevented supplies being sent to her army in Flanders, but employed her in fortifying her coast. It had, however, considerably alarmed Richelieu, and that great minis- ter, with his statesman-like sagacity, foresaw the danger of its direction against France, and we are positively assured, that he prognosticated that one day our fleet would be seen before La Rochelle.* This is not improbable. The reverie of his ambitious youth was still hovering in his brain, and the minister wanted no evidence of the secret communications of the parties. Richelieu anticipated these projects. Conscious of the miserable state of the marine of France, an inferior genius might have exhaled his despair in some solitary Jeremiad, but Richelieu, once resolved, never quitted his object till it became his own. He laboured day and night; he made every public and even private sacrifice to encounter a naval enemy. He hastened an alliance with Spain, whose interests were adverse to those of France, and whose friendship was incompatible with his remoter designs, that he might combine with her fleet to attack Ireland and England ; but he soon discovered that the Spaniards were not in earnest, and were not less desirous than the English to witness the success of the French Huguenots.f Still the vigilant minister of France preceded his enemy's movements. Toiras, who commanded at La Rochelle, was warned for preparation, and the Isle of Rhe had been for some time strengthened in its fortifications. • P^re Griffet, Histoire de France, xiii, 537. f Ibid, xili. 5.55. PKOTESTANTS IN FRANCE. 227 Buckingham, who had now felt the capriciousness of popu- larity, imagined that it might be as easily regained as it had been easily lost. A chivalric adventure would restore to him that favour which, at this moment, might have been denied to all the wisdom, all the policy, and all the arts of an experienced statesman. Unquestionably his imagination had been kindled by the flatteries and by the promises of Soubise and Saint- Blancard ; and in the eagerness of his hopes, he declared, that *^ before midsummer he should be more honoured and beloved of the Commons than ever was the Earl of Essex,"* the romantic hero and favourite of Queen Elizabeth. In such cradled fancies he rocked his own and his master^s imagination. A fleet and an army, sufficiently formidable to assure the Rochellers of their security, were now collected, and the Lord Duke, anticipating a conquest by their open reception, went to war as if he had been hastening to a tournament. " Bucking- ham," says De Brienne, " appeared in this expedition with the equipage of an amorous knight, rather than the equipage of a general." Splendour, however, not eff'eminacy, characterised the romantic warrior; for he afterwards honourably vouched his words by his deeds. The preparations for his departure attracted the public eye. Even his provisions, his stalls for oxen, and his coops for poultry, and the beautiful horses, richly caparisoned, presented by his friends, seemed " as strange and exceeding," as the magnificent train of his trumpeters, and the bands of his musicians, in yachts lined with crimson velvet, playing their melodies to the rough waves. They saw even his coach and litter shipped, and it was rumoured that he had taken his jewels. Our Lord High Admiral and General had made himself ready to attend either a ball or a siege, whichever the Bochellers might prefer. It was an armament not solely devoted to the Graces ; for there were armories and arms, and the most able military and naval officers were selected for the occasion. The destination of the fleet and troops was not known, but Soubise had been seen in the King's coach. This expedition at length appeared before Bochelle ; but Buckingham, who had too long listened to the vague hopes of * I learn this from a manuscript letter. q2 228 EXPEDITION TO LA ROCHELLE. the two Frenchmen, was surprised that he had to force a landing, that troops came down to oppose him, and that the Rochellers neither advanced nor communicated. The town, in fact, was divided between two opposed parties; those who indulged the hope of peace with their sovereign, hesitated to join the English, lest they should irrecoverably forfeit his favour ; the uncompromising Calvinists, who preferred death to submission, were for opening their gates to their potent ally. Amidst this conflict of irresolute prudence and obstinate revolt, the aged Duchess of Rohan, in her ninetieth year, stole to one of the gates, and having collected some scattered friends, pleaded for the admission of her son, Soubise, and his com- panions. Accompanied by the Secretary of Buckingham, Sir William Beecher, these chiefs of the Huguenots harangued their own party, and Saint-Blancard was dispatched to the English fleet to assure Buckingham that the town would shortly declare itself. Meanwhile they returned their thanks, and left their new ally to combat alone. The English left behind them the Fort of St. Prie, called by E-ushworth ^^ the meadow-castle," which must have surrendered on the first summons. They might also have taken possession of the fertile Isle of Oleron ; but though this had been agreed on, Buckingham changed his descent for the rocky Isle of Rh^, where they made good their landing, after a sharp resistance, gallantly driving the French before them to their strong hold. Four months afterwards, when the active enemy, landing from the French coast, poured down from both these neglected quarters, the military blunder was detected, of having passed by the fort, and the isle, of which possession might have been easily obtained. The Rochellers remained immovable, and the English were stopped in the Isle of Rhe by the formidable citadel of St. Martin, which had been not unprepared to receive them. En- trenching themselves, they sat down before this impregnable citadel, which could only be forced to surrender by a blockade at sea, and a tedious siege at land. Buckingham, unwearied in his ardent duties, at least had resolved by his zeal to discover, as Charles the First said, " his proficiency in the trade which he so happily began." He failed EXPEDITION TO LA ROCHELLE. 229 not to be in every part of the camp, lie was in the trenches, he inspected the batteries, he observed where the shot lighted on the enemy, and was present in the most imminent dangers, unsparing of his person more than befitted a Commander-in-Chief. His life was attempted by an assassin, a fanatical Catholic, whose knife, of a peculiar construction, was found slung in his sleeve. Its singular construction attracted notice, and it was engraved in a published narrative at London ; but the Lord- General was not doomed to be struck by this French Felton. The intrepidity of Buckingham was not exceeded by any of the heroes of Plutarch. It was said, what one is unwilling to believe, that the assassin was instigated by Toiras, but the conduct of Buckingham towards that Governor seems to exculpate the Frenchman from such a violation of legitimate warfare. With Buckingham, it seemed a war of courtesy and magni- ficence. When Toiras sent a trumpet to request a passport to convey some wounded officers to the coast, Buckingham sent them his grand chaloupe, or yacht, furnished with every elegant convenience, and lined with tres belle escarlatte rouge; while his musicians, with all the varieties of their instruments, solaced and charmed the wounded enemy in crossing the arm of the sea. Toiras, next day, expressed his grateful sense, by sending back five English soldiers, who had just been taken. In a private letter of the times, it is mentioned, " That my Lord Duke being offered a thousand pounds for one of the dead bodies (there were thirty Marquises, Earls, and Barons, reported to have perished), he nobly refused the money, and off'ered his own waggons to carry back the bodies, taking especial care of those who are hurt amongst his prisoners.^^ Buckingham ad- dressed a letter to Toiras, where he said, " That every person of merit would always be treated by him with the courtesy which is their due, and he hoped that hitherto he had shown himself not more negligent in this respect than the laws of war allow ; but if affairs should compel him to adopt other modes of conduct, he exhorted Toiras to consider his own necessities, which indeed he had endured with heroic patience. If his courage still led him to form vain hopes of relief, it might pre- judice his safety, which would be avoided by accepting the most honourable conditions. ^^ 230 EXPEDITION TO LA ROCHELLB. Toiras was not deficient in the same style — " The courtesies of the Duke of Buckingham are known to all the world, and as they are bestowed with judgment they can only be truly valued by those who merit them. I know of no greater merit in a man than to devote his life in the service of his King. Many brave men here are of the same opinion, and they would be ill-satisfied with themselves if they could not overcome any difficulties whatever. I should be unworthy of your favour, were I to omit a single point of my duties. It is yourself. Sir, who will contribute my glory, whatever may be the issue." These letters were afterwards followed by an intercourse of civilities. Even in little matters the same attentions delighted. Toiras once inquiring, " Whether they had saved any melons in the island?" was the next day presented, in the Duke's name, with a dozen. The bearer received twenty golden crowns, and Toiras dispatching six bottles of orange-flower water, and a dozen jars of cypress powder, the Duke presented the bearer with twenty jacobuses. After a sharp action, when Toiras sent one of his pages, with a trumpet, to request leave to bury some persons of distinction, the Duke received the messenger with terms of condolence. But amidst this profusion of mutual civilities, perhaps more crafty on one side than the other, neither party was less intent on fighting. At London, however, this intercourse of civilities and messengers, it was reported, gave the enemy an opportunity of seeing the works and the army. Many inauspicious rumours were bruited among the people, " and some of higher rank gave out that nothing could go well at the Isle of Rhe ; that there must be a Parliament, some must be sacrificed, and Bishop Laud was as like as any." Laud, who was easily alarmed, repeated these rumours to Charles, who desired, that " he would not trouble himself with reports, till Laud saw him forsake his friends." Thus early was threatened the sacrifice of Laud; but the connecting his name with a military expedition, is an evidence from what party it proceeded. A French song at Paris bore for its burden, that if the Duke of Buckingham could not take the citadel at Rhe, he would succeed in taking the Tower of London. EXPEDITION TO LA ROCHELLE. 231 Buckingham and Toiras, in truth, were both looking for reinforcements: Buckingham had been disappointed in his reception by the Rochellers, and his inactivity may be fairly attributed to his difficult position. He was anxiously waiting for the Earl of Holland, who, when he was ready at Plymouth to embark, found that the ships were provisioning at Chatham. When the provisions were shipped, it was some time before they could get the men to a rendezvous ; and when the fleet was ready to sail, the winds proved contrary. Charles, in a letter to Buckingham, laments the slowness of the promised supplies. " Now we know how to prevent those faults which we, without some experience, could hardly foresee." A young monarch, and a nation long unaccustomed to military enterprise, knew little of the cares, the disappointments, and the management of a large expedition, which depend so much on the " commis- sioners," as Charles denominates them; who, he adds, are " subject to such slow proceedings." We were then but in the infancy of war and glory, and we suffered in the weakness of that condition. Toiras, on his side, was reduced to misery. His provisions had alarmingly diminished, and he could hold no communica- tion with the French army on the coast. In despair, how to convey a dispatch to the camp, three soldiers offered their lives to be the bearers, by swimming through the English fleet, and far across the ocean to the distant land. The dispatch, in cypher, thickly coated with wax and inclosed in a tin-case, was fastened to the necks of these patriotic Leanders. One soldier sunk, another exhausted was shot by the English, the third, discovered at a distance, was pursued by an English cutter. To escape from them he dexterously floated and dipped in two opposite currents; occasionally raising his head from beneath the waters to respire, he would again bury himself in the ocean. The English perceiving an object which was continually disap- pearing, imagined it to be a fish, and gave up the idle chase. A storm arose, and as he could no longer swim, the messenger in despair cast himself upon the waves, till the waves at length threw him on the shore. There he lay exhausted; he was found crawling on his hands and feet covered with blood, which he declared to have been occasioned by the frequent bites of 232 EXPEDITION TO LA ROCHELLE. fish, which had pursued him during half a league in this remark- able passage.* I shall preserve one of those inexhaustible expedients, by which the universal capacity of the Cardinal enabled him to overcome difficulties in matters which did not seem to come under his cognizance. The victualling of the citadel of St. Martin, which was blockaded on the sea-side, became every hour more urgent. It was deemed impossible to convey supplies in the face of a fleet of a hundred sail. At this moment Richelieu recollecting a chance conversation in which he had heard of certain skiffs which the peasants of Bayonne and Juan de Luz, in carrying their provisions to market, dexterously run through the nar- rowest channels, using at once oars and sails, he instantly ordered from Spain some of these light pinnaces, which floated like cork. One night the sea-watch struck up an alarm; a light and shadowy fleet was suddenly seen gliding among the thickest of our ships. Buckingham himself started out to sea, and com- manded it to be set on fire. He was ill-supported. Their admiral was taken^ but a great part got into the citadel : the others, dispersed, returned to Oleron. The provisions which these skiffs conveyed, though but small, diffused joy and con- fidence through the famished garrison, who, in the morning, held out in triumph, on their pike-heads, the mutton and turkeys. Their provisions would not have lasted two days, — they were now safe for a month. On this incident, perhaps, the fate of this expedition turned. Our soldiers and seamen were weary, wasted, and discontented. The vintage is an auxiliary to an invaded country; half the army were nearly perishing by their immoderate eating of grapes ; they expected to return home in a few days, and now the fresh supply which they had witnessed, announced that the siege would still be long. A sudden and great change was observed among the English, their confidence sunk into despair, they no longer thought on victory, but on retreat. " It could not be fear, but it was very * This great swimmer, who swam for his country's good, became the theme of poets, and received a pension secured by the Salt-tax of the province where he landed. Mercurc, xiii. 857. EXPEDITION TO LA ROCHELLE. 233 like it/^ observed a letter-writer from our camp. The uxorious talked of their wives^ and those who were tired of their salt meats, of the Christmas beef they should eat by their firesides : all dreaded the hard duties of a winter in the face of an enemy invulnerable as the stony ground they were daily treading. Buckingham was often assailed in plain language, both by officers and men. Four months were elapsing : the reinforce- ments were still delayed. Soubise's party, though they had raised their standard at Rochelle, rather required protection than afforded aid. It was evident that preparations were making to embark. Batteries were dismantled, cannon were shipped. At this moment dispatches from the Earl of Holland announced that he was on the point of setting sail ; and Soubise, accom- panied by the deputies of La Rochelle, on their knees were imploring that the Duke would not abandon them, promising every sort of aid, far beyond their ability to perform. At this moment Buckingham was irresolute, and scarcely knew what to decide on. He had already lost some of his best officers, par- ticularly Sir John Burroughs, and Saint-Blancard, a leader of great spirit and ability, far superior to Soubise,* and he had now resolved to retire. The French had been for several days past landing detachments at the fort of St. Prie. The adven- turer Soubise and his small body of partisans, in despair, urged that a general assault should be made on the strong fort of St. Martin. It was to satisfy the Rochellers, and to evince how earnestly England had fathered their cause, that Buckingham consented to this desperate movement ; he was not sanguine of the result, — for just before it took place, a passport being requested for three wounded officers, he declared that '' the sick * The character of Saint-Blancard indicates the temper of the party of the resolute Rochellers, from the mayor to the humblest inhabitant, after they had declared themselves. That conflict terminated with one of the most dreadful sieges of famine and death recorded by history. The Duke of Rohan, in his Memoirs, in lamenting the death of this young man, his confidential friend, describes him as one equally remarkable for his piety, his courage, and the solid qualities of his mind. Pere GrifFet, who, though a Jesuit, has written history with impartiality, tells us, that he was one of the most determined Calvinists iu the whole kingdom : — He has sold his estates to live in a foreign country, that, as he said, he might have nothing moi'e to lose in France, and only return to make war as often as he could, to live at the expense of the King. 231 EXPEDITION TO LA ROCHELLE. and the healthy would soon have a free passage, having resolved to quit the island/' The English were seen in motion. Toiras armed himself with his cuirass at the break of day, which was not his usual custom, and it announced to the garrison what he expected. The English bravely mounted the walls, but were so warmly received that they made but one step from the top of their scaling-ladders to the bottom, as the Mercure reports. Another point of attack at a bastion was not more fortunate. After a combat of full two hours, the English were beaten off, with the loss of several hundred men in that assault. On the succeeding day Buckingham sent a message to Toiras, to bid him a farewell, and to assure him that he was hastening to embark, that Toiras, whose valour and patience he admired, might have the entire honour of his retreat unshared by others. It is positively asserted, that Buckingham designed to have shipped his troops that day, when his evil genius in Soubise again implored only for the suspension of a single day, that they might remove in security all the corn in the island of La Rochelle. This was on a Sunday, and it was in the night of this very day that Marshal Schomberg advanced with six thousand infantry and some cavalry, and early in the morning of Monday suddenly appeared in view of the citadel. Toiras hastened to the French army, and a council of war was immediately held whether they should allow the English to re-embark without attacking them ? There are always two opinions respecting the attack of a retreating enemy. Toiras, now the active general, and no longer the courteous correspondent, decided for imme- diate combat ; the honour of France required that the English should be chased from their shores. On the other side, Marillac, Marechal-de-camp, was averse to risk the flower of the King's army ; were the English reduced to despair, they might become formidable. He reminded them of the battle of Poictiers, and offered a more recent instance, when at the siege of Amiens the late King (Henry IV.) was satisfied to retake the city, but suffered the Spaniards to depart, without risking an unnecessary battle, though certain of victory ; and according to the proverb, the Marechal-de-camp cautiously reminded them, '^ to a retiring enemy we should offer a golden bridge.'^ There EXPEDITION TO LA ROCHELLE. 235 were others who were for suffering the English to retreat with- out pursuit, but the French officers were in general inflamed with military ardour. They ridiculed the timid prudence of the Marechal-de-camp, and from that hour Marillac was nicknamed *' the golden bridge/^ The English were retiring, slowly marching in good order. They had first to cross a wide plain of more than half a league. It was here that the French came down in considerable num- bers. Buckingham drew up in line, several times offering battle. It was refused by the enemy. They were more cer- tain of their prey by its pursuit. The retreat was covered by the cavalry. To reach the ships the English had to pass over •a narrow causeway among the marshes and salt-pits, thence to cross a wooden bridge which Buckingham had erected for that purpose, to collect together on a small island. Part of the army had passed over the bridge, but on the causeway the destruction began. Charged furiously by the French, the cavalry disordered the infantry. Our own horse rode over our own men, and no man could find his officer. The van was unconscious of what was passing in the rear ; no one seemed to know what had happened, or what he was to do. In the rush and flight of that deroute, less fell by the sword than were buried in the marshes and drowned in the river. We lost our men and our standards, but hardly our honour. Buckingham, sword in hand, attempted in vain to rally his scattered troops j the enemy was content to see us perish. They could not, how- ever, force a passage over the wooden bridge, where, though the English had neglected to erect some defensive works, they faced about, and maintained that post by their firmness and courage till the remains of the army had re-embarked. The last person seen on the beach was the unhappy General. He departed, but not without a promise to the Bochellers, that he would again come to their relief. So firm at least was his dauntless spirit, and we know that the promise was a solemn pledge. This, like all similar expeditions, was oppositely discussed at home. Historians have echoed the condemnation of Bucking- ham for the faults committed at the Isle of Rhe -, and had the Duke enjoyed the advantages of historians who write after the 'Z36 EXPEDITION TO LA liOCHELLE. fatal results, he might have agreed uith their opinions, he might have heard of certain matters which perhaps had never reached him, and he possibly might have informed the historians of others which they knew nothing about. What, however, has not been noticed, even by the later writers of history, is an admirably written dispatch from Buck- ingham in July to Lord Conway, by which we learn that he foresaw the possible dangers which afterwards were so fatally realised. Alluding to the fleet, he says, " All our shipping is so dispersed round about the island, that unless some fatality happens, which cannot yet be foreseen, no considerable force can come to them." The unforeseen fatality happened ! He was aware of the possible result of Cardinal Richelieu^s prepara- tions of " the shipping preparing at various places, which once joined, would make such a strength, as if they did not endanger us by sea, yet would they so divert our forces, now scattered about the island, as we must of necessity gather our fleet into one body, and so leave the other places naked for the enemy to come in with succours, which he would not fail to have in a readiness to put over on such an occasion." In this observation, Buckingham discovers the prescience of a military mind, for thus it was that the aff'air terminated. His description of the sort of soldiers he had to encounter, and their commander, is an evidence of his diligent information and lively judgment. " They are strong in number, both of horse and foot, their horse con- sisting most of gentlemen, — and their foot, of the regiment of Champagne, which in this kingdom is called the ' Invincible.' " He hits off at a single stroke, " The governor (Toiras) who had made the preservation of the citadel, the scale of his honour and fortune, out of which, having the Queen-Mother and Car- dinal for enemies, he will find no safety ; so that before he will yield up the place he will make it his death-bed, — and if he cannot live, surely he will die for it." Such is the dispatch, which none but Buckingham could have written ; and when we compare this letter, dated " from the camp in July," with the catastrophe of the expedition in November, it will prove that the real Buckingham is a very different individual from the fictitious Buckingham in our history, that rash and hare-brained creation, of whom .Hume says, and others will repeat, "all his EXPEDITION TO LA ROCHELLE. 237 military operations showed equal incapacity and inexperience." The writer of this energetic letter could never be condemned for "incapacity," and Buckingham never displayed more sedate thought than in this enterprise.* The Duke in his defence asserted, that he had always con- sulted his council of war, and that he had been ill-supported on various occasions. Some officers on their return from this expedition, which, after all, was only disastrous in the fatal march to the ships, pleaded in favour of the council of war. The veteran officer of the highest reputation was Sir John Burroughs, who was unfortunately shot in reconnoitring the enemy. Gerbier assures us that this officer was in the closest confidence of Buckingham ; but he also tells us that " the Duke would have taken the fort, making use of their present fear, and the heat of his own men, if Colonel Burroughs, having the reputa- tion of the elder and more experienced soldier, had not crossed his more wise and gallant resolution." f It sometimes happens, — as after the battle of Vimeira, where the pursuit of the enemy might have closed in the capture of Lisbon, and not in the nullifying Convention of Cintra, — that old officers act more prudently than happily, and the fortu- nate audacity of Buckingham might have been more wise at the moment than the caution of the veteran. In the game of war is there to be no venture ? On the other hand, I find another witness of a very opposite character to Gerbier. The patriot. Dr. Turner, member for Shrewsbury, alluding to the death of Sir John Burroughs, said : " The man for whom I wear this black riband counselled the Duke, at his very first sight of the fort, that he should never put spade into the ground, but embark, and undertake some other design." % This confirms Gerbier's account, that Sir John Burroughs " crossed " the Duke^s resolution. I can give no opinion on the other part, whether it were " more wise and gallant." If Buckingham had possessed the skill of the great Duke of our days, as well as the intrepidity, which he certainly did possess, we should not hesitate to censure the veteran adviser. * The curious inquirer may consult this letter in Lord Hardwicke's Collection. Vol. ii. t Sloane MSS.4181. % Harl. MSS. 388. Letter 435. 2:38 EXPEDITION TO LA ROCHELLE. War, like Love, has its moments for capture, which may uever return.* Soubise does not appear to have afforded Buckingham any other advice than the most fatal one which could have been adopted, and, in truth, Soubise was an unworthy brother of the illustrious Duke of Rohan. He was an adventurer, who, having possessed himself one night, by a surprise or stratagem, of a French man-of-war and some smaller craft, set himself up as " Admiral of the Churches," and roamed the seas as a corsair. That he was deficient in physical courage, — at any rate one of the great essentials of military character, — appears from various facts. He was sick in the assault, and sane in the retreat. So far from distinguishing himself in action, he was present only in one, where he stood aloof, and was the first to fly. Soubise's courage was the jest of the French Court. On his flight from the action alluded to, it was observed, that if he continued this mode of combat, he would probably be the oldest general in Europe. When Buckingham made his descent on the Isle of Rhe, the filial Soubise set off" to visit his mother at La Rochelle; on which Monsieur observed, that he acted in conformity to the commandment, Honora Patrem et Matrem, so doubtless his days would be prolonged for him. Thus, while it was the evil chance of Buckingham to listen to the counsels and to embrace the views of this adventurer and partisan, the luckless Admiral and General was to encounter the invincibility of Toiras, the French commander ; while it may be said that the more awful genius of the Cardinal met Buckingham at the Isle of Rh^. It is a fact worthy of record, that such were the foresight and preventions which Richelieu had taken for the * Observe how unfortunate heroes are condemned by their later historians. Hume has said of Buckingham, assuming all that he found in Rushworth to contain *' all the truth, and nothing but the truth," that '< having landed his men, though with some loss, he followed not the blow, but allowed Toiras, the French governor, five days' respite." The reader now learns, for the first time, by Gerbier, that the Duke would have *^ followed the blow;'" and from Dr. Turner, that the veteran officer, whose opinion was the oracle, entertained a very opposite notion of *' follow- ing the blow " than Sir Balthazar Gerbier and our Philosopher, who was melodising his pages on a sofa. Smollett echoed the opinion of Hume ; but when history is to be composed by the sheet, in weekly numbers, the animated writer can have no time to scrutinise into opinions and statements. The first, which is usually the popular one, is always the best for sixpence ! EXPEDITION TO LA ROCHELLE. 239 defence of La Rochelle and its neighbouring islands, that the discomfiture of the English was not so much ascribed to the firm and intrepid resistance of Toiras, the commander, as to the sagacity and wisdom of the minister. " I do not deny," said the Keeper of the Seals to Toiras, " that you have served well and defended your island; but what have you done more than five hundred gentlemen in France would have done in your place?" Toiras bitterly replied: "It would, indeed, be unfortunate were there not more than five hundred men who knew their duty as well as myself: I have done it, but there are in this kingdom also more than five thousand as able to hold the seals as yourself." The Keeper of the Seals had published an account of the siege of the citadel of St. Martin, in which he had highly extolled the Cardinal de Richelieu and little Le Sieur de Toiras. " To what end," adds the sensible Pere Griffet, " would all the cares of the Cardinal have tended, had Toiras been less obstinate in his defence with a courage, a patience, and a firmness of which we have few examples?" In history this is not a singular instance of men of the cabinet valuing their own services above those which they possibly conceive to be less intellectual. What were the feelings of Charles the First on this trying occasion — this second baffled expedition ? Awakening from the dreams of Monsieur Soubise and Saint-Blancard, he saw his unhappy friend, who he well knew was devoting his life to secure his master's power and his nation's glory, returning with obloquy to encounter fiercer enemies at home than those who had chased him from their shores. With Charles, nothing could shake the strength of his tenderness, and the fulness of his confidence. His agitated spirit could only deeply sympa- thise with the misfortunes of his friend, and regret that he had not lightened these griefs by a nearer participation of them. The monarch still flatters his discomfited general with honour and reputation, and still leaves to him the brilliant hope of some new design, or the consolation of returning to his sove- reign in the entireness of his aflPections. All this appears by a letter which Charles the First had dispatched to Buckingham during his uncertain return, at a moment when the last retreat from Rhe had been resolved on. 240 EXPEDITION To LA ROCHELLE. but had not yet occurred. That letter, which the King was not sure would reach its destination, came to Buckingham on his first landing in England. I have transcribed it from the origi- nal preserved in the great treasury of our national manuscripts. It is an overflowing effusion of friendship from the heart of a monarch. We feel the hurried and the deep emotions in every sentence. Steenie, I pray God that this letter be useless, or never come to your hands, this being only to meet you at your landing in England, in case you should come from Rhe, without perfecting your work, happily begun, but, I must confess with grief, ill seconded. A letter you sent to Jack Epslie is the cause of this, wherein ye have taught me prudence, and how to seek the next best in misfortunes. This is, therefore, to give you power, in case ye should imagine that ye have not enough already, to put in execution any of those designs* ye mentioned to Jack Epslie, or any other that you shall like of, so that I leave it freely to your will, whether after your landing in England ye will set forth again to some design before you come hither ; or else that ye will first come to ask my advice before ye undertake a new work, assuring you that, with whatsomever success ye shall come to me, ye shall be ever welcome ; one of my greatest griefs being that I have not been with you in this time of suffering, for I know we should have much eased each other's griefs. I cannot stay longer on this subject for fear of losing myself in it. To conclude, ye cannot come so soon as ye are welcome, and unfeignedly in my mind ye have gained as much reputation with wise and honest men in this action, as if ye had performed all your desires. I have no more to say this time, but to con- jure thee, for my sake, to have a care of your health, for every day I find new reasons to confirm me in being your loving, faithful friend, Charles R.f Whitehall, 6 Nov. 1627. * One was an attack on Calais ; the Duke of Rohan had pointed out several others, t Harleian MSS. 6988 (30). 1 STATE OF AFFAIRS AFTER THE EXPEDITION. 241 CHAPTER XVII. STATE OF AFFAIRS AFTER THE FAILURE OF THE EXPEDITION TO LA ROCHELLE. Buckingham was received by his royal master with all the sympathy of a common affliction — his own spirit was still undis- mayed, and still intent on some future triumph. But he had returned to witness the miseries of his calamitous retreat in the griefs of domestic privacj^ There were few families who had not to mourn a father, a husband, or a brother. Some of our officers appear never to have overcome their utter dejection at the recol- lection of the scene they had just quitted. Sir Henry Sprey, one of the commanders, when his lady, joyfully embracing him, asked him how he did ? answered, ^^ Though I am returned safe, yet my heart is broken ^^ — and telling over the names of those slain in his sight, many of whom had determined to sacrifice themselves, to avoid the imputation of cowardice, with which they had been reproached by the Duke's party, men far superior to himself, he modestly added, " and he cared not to outlive the memory.'^ His death, which shortly after happened, was believed to have been hastened by grief. The public talk was disturbed by daily rumours. They reproached the pride of the Lord Duke, that seemed as if he had scorned to retreat ; and ascribed the cause of the disaster to an over- daring delay in marching, that the English might not seem to fly ; otherwise the army might have been out of danger before the French could have overtaken them, and more than two thousand brave men had not been slaughtered in a short passage. The clergy were prohibited alluding to the dismal expedition ; an Oxford man, who preached at the cross, had his sermon castrated before it was delivered. The King's physician was committed, for contradicting the Duke on the number lost, and a lady, for calling the Isle of Rhe, the Isle of Rue, The spirit of the people had been at first elated by the promise of some splendid enterprise, and the more active spirits of the VOL. I. R 242 STATE OF AFFAIRS AFTER THE EXPEDITION. times, who had so long been crying out upon the dull and sleepy time of peace, and had so often dinned the ears of James the First, how the country was dishonoured, and religion endan- gered, while the Palatinate was lost, were now incurring all "the pains and penalties" of war, and of unsuccessful war. Their wits and their murmurs now ran as fast on the other side. Since the war, all trading was dead, their wools lie on their hands, men were without work, and our ships were rotting in our ports, to be sold as cheap as fire-wood. Besides, if the wars continued, more forced loans must supply the Lord Duke's pro- digality, which was the same either in peace or in war, in his banquets or his campaigns. The King was now involved in a more intricate and desperate condition ; the nation was thrown into a state of agitation, of which the page of our popular history yields but a faint impression. The spirit of insurrection was stalking forth. The imprisonment of the Loan Recusants had alarmed their coun- ties, and a mutiny of the soldiery and the mariners was terrifying the metropolis. It was an unarmed rebellion. An army and a navy had returned unpaid and sore with defeat. In the country, the farmer was pillaged, and few could resort to church, lest in their absence their houses should be rifled. London was scoured by seamen and soldiers, roving even into the palace of the Sovereign. Soldiers, without pay, form a society without laws. A band of captains rushed into the Duke's apartment as he sat at dinner, and when reminded by the Duke of a late proclamation, forbidding all soldiers coming to Court in troops on pain of hanging, they answered that " whole companies were ready to be hanged with them, that the King might do as he pleased with their lives, for that their reputation was lost, and their honour forfeited for want of their salary to pay their debts.'' When a petition was once presented, and it was inquired who was the composer of it, a vast body tremendously shouted " All, all ! " A mob of seamen met at Tower-hill, and set a lad on a scaff'old, who ^vith an " O yes ! " proclaimed that " King Charles had promised their pay, or the Duke had been on the scaffold himself." It is said that thirty thousand pounds would have quieted these disorga- nised bodies, but the Exchequer could not apply so mean a sum. I STATE OF AFFAIRS AFTER THE EXPEDITION. 243 These, at least, were grievances more apparent to the Sovereign than those vague ones so incessantly reiterated by his querulous Commons. There remained only a choice of difficulties between the disorder and the remedy. At the moment the Lord High Admiral got up what he called " The Council of the Sea/' to aflPord the sufferers relief; he was punctual at the first meeting, but afterwards was always engaged on other affairs ; and " the Council of the Sea '* turned out to be one of those shadowy expedients which only lasts while it acts on the imagination. A general spirit of insurrection, rather than insurrection itself, had suddenly raised some strange appearances throughout the kingdom. " The Remonstrance " of the late Parliament, unquestionably, had quickened the feelings of the people, but more concealed causes may be suspected to have been working. Many of the heads of the Opposition were busied in secret con- federacy, a mode of conduct which was afterwards adopted with great success. About this time I find many mysterious tales, — indications of secret associations, and other evidence of the intrigues and the machinations of the popular party, who became now more active as the distresses of the Government became more complicate and desperate. We may conceive the disordered state of the administration, from some secret histories which have been preserved in the private correspondence of the times. When the King was urging the general loan, and committing the Loan Recusants, which raised such a ferment in the country, a rumour ran that the King was to be visited by an ambassador from " the Pre- sident of the Society of the Rosy Cross.'' He was, indeed, an heteroclite ambassador, for he is described " as a youth with never a hair on his face," in fact, a child, who was to conceal the mysterious personage which he was for a moment to repre- sent. He appointed Sunday afternoon to come to Court, attended by thirteen coaches. If the King accepted his advice, he was to proffer three millions to fill his Majesty's coffers, but his secret councils were to unfold matters of moment and secrecy. A letter in Latin was delivered to " David Ramsey of the Clock," to hand over to the King. A copy of it has been preserved in a letter of the times, but it is so unintelligible, that it could have had no effect on Charles, who, however, R % I 244 STATE OF AFFAIRS AFTER THE EXPEDITION. declared that he would not admit this ambassador to an audience, and that if his Majesty could tell where " the Pre- sident of the E/Osy Cross'' was to be found, unless he made good his offer, he should be hanged at the Court Gates. This served the town and country for talk, till the appointed Sunday had passed over, and no ambassador was visible ! Some con- sidered this as the plotting of crazy brains, but others imagined it to be an attempt to speak with the King in private on matters respecting the Duke. Later, when the King had consented to call the third Parlia- ment, a sealed letter was thrown imder the door, with this superscription: Cursed be the man that finds this letter and delivers it not to the House of Commons. The Serjeant-at-Arms handed it to the Speaker, who would not open it till the House had chosen a committee of twelve members to inform them whether it was fit to be read. Sir Edward Coke, after having read two or three lines, stopped, and, according to my authority, " durst read no further, but immediately sealing it, the com- mittee thought fit to send it to the King, who, they say, on reading it through, cast it into the fire, and sent the House of Commons thanks for their wisdom in not publishing it, and for the discretion of the committee in so far tendering his honour, as not to read it out, when they once perceived that it touched his Majesty." * Others, besides the freedom of speech in the House, which they justly insisted on, introduced another form, of " A speech without doors," which was distributed to the Members. We are glad to possess it, for it exhibits the popular grievances with * I deliver this fact as I find it in a private letter ; it is, however, noticed in the journals of the House of Commons, 23 Junii, 4 Caroli Regis : '* Sir Edward Coke reporteth that they find that enclosed in the letter, to be unfit for any subject's ear to hear. Read but one line and a half of it, and could not endure to read more of it. It was ordered to be sealed and delivered to the King's hands by eight members, and to acquaint his Majesty with the place and time of finding it, particularly that upon the reading of one line and a lialf, they would read no more, but sealed it up and brought it to the House." That one line and a /laZ/ should contain such infamous matter, as is reported " unfit for any subject's ear," may excite surprise. It must either have been some horrid charge accusing the King of his father's death, which the malignant spirits of the times dared to insinuate, or the line and a lialf must have contained some intolerable appellations of the unfortunate monarch by one of that party, which at length laid his head on the block. STATE OF AFFAIRS AFTER THE EXPEDITION. 245 tolerable impartiality — without any deficient terror of " him who hath the Princess ear open to hearken to his enchanting tongue/' * Some in office employed proceedings equally extraordinary. An intercepted letter, written by the Archduchess to the King of Spain, was delivered by Sir Henry Martin at the Council- board on New Year's Day, who found it in some papers relating to the navy. The Duke immediately said he would take it to the King ; and, accompanied by several Lords, went into his Majesty's closet. The letter, written in French, advised the Spanish Court to make a sudden war with England for various reasons. First, his Majesty's want of skill to govern of himself; secondly, the weakness of his council in not daring to acquaint him with the truth; want of money; disunion of the subjects* hearts from their Prince, &c. &c. The King only observed, that the writer forgot that the Archduchess writes to the King of Spain in Spanish, and sends her letters overland. These minute facts exhibit an extraordinary state of the public mind, and the feebleness of the Government which had made itself liable to experience this disaffection, and to endure this contempt and these pubhc reproaches. At such a moment, Buckingham, in despair at the popular prejudices " growing with their growth," was busily planning a fresh expedition to relieve the Rochellers, who were hard besieged by their Sovereign. The deputies of La Rochelle, with Soubise, as early as in January, were urging the hastening of the promised expedition for the relief of the besieged. Charles could not overcome his repugnance to try a third Parliament ; he still hoped to provide for his army and navy by levying his usual contributions. They were moderate, but in the present temper of the nation they were intolerable. There was a race of divines, whom a member of the House, in the preceding King's time, had severely charac- terised as " spaniels to the Court, and wolves to the people." The pulpits were resounding the most slavish tenets, and pro- claiming as rebellious those who refused their aid to Govern- ment. One of these had dared to avow in his Lent sermon, that " all we have is the King's by divine right." The sermon ♦ This speech without doors occupies ten folio pages of Rushworth, i. 489. 2i(5 MEETING OF THE TIUKD PAKLIAME^'T. was published, and the sermoniser's house was immediately burnt down ! Many of the divines, more learned than this hardy theological adventurer, were searching for ancient precedents to maintain absolute monarchy, and inculcate passive obedience ; nor were there wanting lawyers to allege precedents for raising supplies in the manner which Charles had adopted. At this moment the King vacillated between his urgent wants, and his legal rights ; he was momentously pressed by his new and distressed ally ; he was disgusted with Parliaments j and yet was unwilling to enforce what his judges had declared to be illegal, — Charles instantly recalled the new duties on merchandise, which he had imposed on his own authority — and for this manifestation of the very opposite quality to arbitrary measures, Charles is so unfortunate as to have incurred the censure of Dr. Lingard for his " vacillating conduct ! " * Had the King designed to have been the monstrous tyrant which the democratic writers in their historical calumnies have made him, he might at least have escaped from the censure of " vacillation ! " CHAPTER XVIII. MEETING OF THE THIRD PARLIAMENT. 1628. The Favourite, who was always seeking for that popular favour which his envied greatness had lost him, is said in private letters to have been twice on his knees to intercede for a new Parliament. At length the King consented, and in March, Parliament assembled. The elections foreboded no good; the country gentlemen recently discharged from their confinement were chiefly the favourite members. A courtier in describing the new Parlia- ment, prophetically declared, "we are without question undone!" The wealthiest men in the country now composed the House of Commons. A Lord, who probably considered that property, or as it was then usually called " propriety,'^ was the true * Lingai'd, ix. 376. MEETING OF THE THIRD PARLIAMENT. 247 balance of power, estimated that they were able to buy the Upper House, his Majesty alone excepted ! The aristocracy of wealth had already begun to form a new class in the community, influenced by new interests, new principles, and a new spirit of independence. In the Westminster election of two centuries past, we witness one of our own. The Duke had counted by his interest to bring in Sir Robert Pye. The contest was severe, and accompanied by the same ludicrous electioneering scenes which still amuse the mob in their saturnalia of liberty. When Sir Robert Pye's party cried out " a Pye ! a Pye ! " instantly resounded " a pudding ! a pudding ! " or " a lie ! a lie ! " At the present election, whoever had urged the payment of the loan was rejected, and passing over such eminent men as Sir Robert Cotton, and their last representative, a brewer and a grocer were actually returned as the two members for Westminster. The King's speech opens with the spirit which he himself felt, but which he could not communicate. " The times are for action, wherefore for example's sake I mean not to spend much time in words. Your good resolutions, so I hope, will be speedy, for tedious consultations at this con- juncture of time are as hurtful as ill resolutions. " The common danger is the cause of this Parliament, and supply at this time, is the chief end of it. I will use but few persuasions ; for if, as now the case stands, the just defence of our true friends and allies be not sufficient, then no eloquence of men or angels will prevail. " If you, as God forbid ! should not do your duties in con- tributing what tho state at this time needs, I must in discharge of my conscience use those other means, which God hath put into my hands, to save that, which the follies of some particular men may otherwise hazard to lose. " Take not this as a threatening, for I scorn to threaten any but my equals ; but an admonition from him, who, both out of nature and duty, hath most care of your preservations and pro- perties. And though I thus speak, I hope that your counsels will lay on me such obligations as shall tie me by way of thank- fulness to meet often with you. "My Lord-Keeper will make a short paraphrase upon the 248 MEETING OF THE THIRD PARLIAMENT. text I have delivered you, which is. To remember a thing, to the end we may forget it. You may imagine I came here with a doubt of success of what I desire, remembering the dissensions of the last meeting, but I assure you that I shall very easily and gladly forget and forgive what is past/' * This speech from the throne, is of so different a nature from any King's speech to which we are accustomed, that the reader may exercise his acumen in detecting the secret conflict of the feelings by which it was dictated. If we discover in it some touches of that lofty conception of majesty which inspired Charles, whether on the throne, in the prison, or at the scaffold, there are others, which betray the sensibilities of the monarch who felt himself aggrieved, and of the man who would infuse friendliness into those obdurate tempers, whose national energy alone could retrieve his honour, and give peace to his private hours. But we see that Charles still looked on Parliaments with hopelessness. A letter-writer represents the opposite feel- ings of the day. " Some of the Parliament talk desperately — while others, of as high a course to enforce money, if they yield not." This is the perpetual action and reaction of public opinion. When one side refuses what is just, the other insists on more than is right. Some ill omens of the Parliament appeared. Sir Robert Philips, the member for Somersetshii-e, moved for a general fast : " Wc had," said he, " one for the plague, which it pleased God to deliver us from, and we have now so many plagues of the Commonwealth about his Ma-jesty's person, that we have need of such an act of humiliation." Sir Edward Coke held it most necessary, *^ because there are, I fear, some devils that will not be cast out, but by fasting and prayer." The Romanists were always a burnt-offering on the altar of the Parliament, and a petition to renew the penal acts against Popish Recusants, was as pious an act as a penitential fast for all good Protestants. Secretary Cooke, however, was by no means averse to frigliten them into supplies. In the last Parliament, he had discovered ^'a whole Parliament of Jesuits sitting in a fair-hanged vault" * The critical reader may observe how all parties alike agree either in colouring highly, or casting into shade everything relative to Charles the First. It accorded with Pr. Lingard's system to give only the ungracious parts of this speech. Lingard, ix. 37R. MEETING OF THE THIRD PARLIAMENT. 249 in Clerkenwellj and he would then have alarmed the Commons that these Jesuits^ on St. Joseph's day, had designed to have occupied their own places. It was a gun-powder plot, without the gun-powder. Cooke, too, insinuated that the French am- bassador had persuaded Louis, that the divisions between Charles and his people had been fomented by his ingenuity, and he assured the House that he knew the ambassador had been rewarded for his efforts. In all this there was some truth: a party, or rather a small college of Jesuits, had been discovered, and the intrigues of the French ambassadors with the French household of the Queen, as we shall soon see, appear suflSciently evident; but ministers are supposed sometimes to have con- spirators for " the Nonce," and ambassadors occasionally flatter themselves that they do more mischief than the world suspects them capable of. At this moment, the old secretary insisted, that though '^ the Lords of the Council had dug out of the earth this nest of wasps," still were the seculars and the regulars of the Romish priests more active and dangerous than ever. '^Even at this time, they intend to hold concurrent assembly with this Parliament."* By this portentous secret, did the wily Secretary attempt to strike a panic through the bench of Bishops, by a hierarchy of the square-caps, and terrify the Commons by a phantom-parliament of Jesuits ! The speeches in the great council of the kingdom at this particular period, which forms an era in the history of our constitution, from the circumstance of the Petition of Right having been passed into an act, must have remarkably struck the mind of the philosophical historian ; for Hume has transcribed entire pages of their noble sentiments and their irrefutable arguments. It seemed a grave and dignified assembly, who were solemnly met, perhaps for the last time, to ascertain the personal liberty of the subject, and the sacredness of pro- perty. Though perhaps somewhat awed by the lofty style of Charles, and somewhat touched by his more relenting emotions, still conscious of the dignity of their senatorial character, and indignant at the arbitrary acts which they had witnessed, the Commons now deeply entered into constitutional points, and * Rush worth, i. 514. 250 MEETING OF THE THIRD PARLIAMENT. the cases and the precedents gleaned by antiquaries and lawyers were animated by the living spirit of patriotism, glowing with public reverence, and sore with private injuries. It is remarkable, that in the early speeches of the Commons, the name of the unhappy favourite no longer served as the war- whoop of a party. No historian has noticed this extraordinary change in the conduct of the Commons ; but, although we are not positively and entirely furnished with the secret history of its cause, it reveals itself in the course of the events. Charles, we find, had laid a solemn injunction on the Speaker, that the House, in their debates, should abstain from any personal allu- sions to Buckingham. On this agreement, probably, had the King consented to call a Parliament. We shall trace the effects of this feeble expedient as we proceed. The House unanimously voted against arbitrary imprison- ments, and forced loans, and the Court party extenuated the past grievances. Charles, they observed, was a young monarch, who, on his accession to the throne, found himself engaged in war; and urged by his extreme necessities, which had solely originated in the refusal of supplies by the two former Parliaments. The Commons voted five subsidies, about three hundred and fifty thousand pounds. This was considered as a liberal grant, although inadequate to the pressing exigencies and the pending enterprise. Secretary Sir John Cooke, having brought up the report to the King, Charles expressed great satisfaction, declaring that at . that moment he felt more happy than any of his predecessors. Inquiring of Sir John by how many voices he had carried it ? Cooke replied, "But by one.^^ At which the King seemed appalled, and asked how many were against him? Cooke answered, " None ! the unanimity of the House made all but one voice ! " The King was so strongly affected as to weep.* The emotion must have been indeed profound, for on all sudden emergencies Charles displayed an almost unparalleled command over the exterior violence of his feelings. * This circumstance is mentioned in a manuscript letter, but the tears of Charles on this occasion have also got into history. What the Secretary declared to the House is in Rushworth, i. .526. MEETING OF THE THIKD PARLIAMENT. 251 The Favourite himself was in transports. Sympathising with his royal master^ he voluntarily offered himself as a peace- sacrifice. In an admirable effusion of his feelings at the council-table, he said, " I now behold you a great King, for Love is greater than Majesty ; opinion that the people loved you not, had almost lost you in the opinion of the world ; but you who are now loved at home will be feared abroad. I, who have been your favourite, may now give up that title to them ; they to be your favourites, and I your servant. Consider them as a body of many members, but all of one heart. This is not the gift of five subsidies alone, but the opening a mine of sub- sidies that lieth in their hearts.^^ At the close, the touches of personal feelings gush out of every sentence. "To open my heart, please to pardon me a word, more. I must confess T have long lived in pain, sleep hath given me no rest, favours and fortunes no content ; such have been my secret sorrows to be thought the man of separation, and that divided the King from his people, and them from him ; but I hope it shall appear they were some mistaken minds that would have made me the evil spirit that walketh between a good master and a loyal people." Buckingham added to this warm effusion, that, for the good of his country, he was willing to sacrifice his honours, and, since his plurality of offices had been so strongly excepted against, that he was content to give up the Master of the Horse to the Marquess of Hamilton, and the Warden of the Cinque Ports to the Earl of Carlisle, and was willing that the Parliament should appoint another Admiral for all services at sea.* It is as certain as human evidence can authenticate, that on the King^s side all was grateful affection, and that on Bucking- ham's there was a most earnest desire to conciliate the favours of Parhament. The King, undoubtedly, sighed to meet Par- liament with the love which he had at first professed; he declared that " he should now rejoice to meet with his people often ; " but Buckingham, at times, was susceptible of misery, * The Duke's speech at the council-table is preserved in Rushworth, i. 525. The offer of his personal sacrifices I found in MSS. Letters. Sloane MSS. 4177. Letter 490, &c. &c. ^52 MEETING OF THE THIRD PARLIAMENT. amid his greatness. He feared the friends around him, and the terrific Opposition, which seemed a growing monster, haunting his footsteps. It could not have been imagined that the luckless favourite, on the present occasion, should have served as a pretext to set again in fermentation the chaos of evil. Yet it so happened, when Secretary Cooke, in closing his report of the King's acceptance of the subsidies, too imprudently or too zealously mentioned, that the Duke had fervently beseeched the King to grant the House all their desires. As Charles had laid an injunction that no personal allusion should be made to the Duke, it was but fair for the patriotic party to insist that the rule should equally be observed by the friends of the Court, and that the name of Buckingham should not be thrust forward to receive honours which, even when deserved, they abhorred to bestow. At the name of the Duke, Sir John Eliot caught fire, and vehemently checked the Secretary for having dared to introduce it, declaring "they knew of no other distinction but of King and subjects. By intermingling a subject's speech with the King's message, he derogated from the honour and majesty of a King. Nor would it become any subject to bear himself in such a fashion, as if no grace ought to descend from the King to the people, nor any loyalty ascend from the people to the King, but through him only." This speech was received by many with acclamations ; some cried out, " Well spoken, Sir John Eliot ! " * It marks the heated state of the political atmosphere, when even the lightest coruscation of a hateful name made it burst into flames. But the supplies, which had raised tears from the fervent gratitude of the distressed monarch, though voted, were yet withheld. Charles had already reminded them that " if they did not make provision speedily, we shall not be able to put one ship to sea this year." It was now resolved that grievances and supplies were to go hand in hand. Several ineffectual messages came from the • I find this speech, and an account of its reception, in manuscript lettei*8 ; the fragment in Rushwortli contains no part of it. Sloane MSS. 41 77, Letter 490, &c. &c. I MEETING OF THE THIRD PARLIAMENT. 253 King for turning the vote of the subsidies into an act. The negotiations of the Cabinet were said to be at a stand, nor could the soldiers either be disbanded or put into service. A startling message, on the 12th of April, came down from the King for dispatch of business. The House, struck with astonishment, desired to have it repeated. They remained sad and silent. No one cared to open the debate. A whimsical politician. Sir Francis Nethersole, suddenly starting up, entreated leave to tell his last night^s dream. Some laughing at him, he observed that "Kingdoms had been saved by dreams.^^ Allowed to proceed, he told them, that " he saw two good pastures, a flock of sheep was in the one, and a bell-wether alone in the other, a great ditch was between them, and a narrow bridge over the ditch.'' He was interrupted by the Speaker, who told him that it stood not with the gravity of the House to listen to dreams, but the House inclined to hear him out. " The sheep would sometimes go over to the bell-wether, or the bell-wether to the sheep. Once both met on the narrow bridge, and the question was who should go back, since both could not go on without danger. One sheep gave counsel, that the sheep on the bridge should lie on their bellies, and let the bell-wether go over their backs. The application of this dilemma he left to the House." * It must be confessed that the bearing of the point whether the King or the Commons were to give way, was more ambiguous than some of the important ones which now formed the matters of their debates. Davus sum, non (Edipus. It is probable that this fantastical politician did not vote with the Opposition ; for Eliot, AVent- worth, and Coke, protested against the interpretation of dreams in the House. The House of Commons sat four days without speaking or doing anything.f Two months had elapsed since the meeting of Parliament, and the voted supplies were still doubtful. * Manuscript Letter. + This appears in a MS. Letter. >i54. THE KING AND TilL PETITION OF RIGHT CHAPTER XIX. THE HISTORY OF THE KING'S CONDUCT WITH REGARD TO THE PETITION OF RIGHT. The Representatives of the people were now lajring down some foundations for the establishment of their " Right," which produced the famous " Petition.^' They felt that they required a stronger security against the late irregular acts, than the passing of a mere vote of censure by their House. They projected the enactment of a law against arbitrary imprisonments; but in the discussion of this project, the highest principles of the constitution were as often disputed by one side as they were maintained by the other. Selden with learned industry, vast as the amplitude of his mind, had to unbury the personal freedom of the subject in the dust of the Tower-records ; and Coke, the greatest of lawyers, was still poring iuto Parliamentary rolls for precedents. Some even would have awakened the hoar antiquity of popular liberty among our rudest ancestors. In what was called the conference of the Commons, held before the Lords, the argument for the personal freedom of the subject was admirably conducted, and yet the Lords considered that the Crown lawyers urged the more cogent reasoning. Heath, the Attorney- General, affected to slight the precedents and arguments offered, and to consider the one as mutilated out of the records, and the other as proving rather against than for the Commons. Then it was that Sir Edward Coke rose, affirming to the House, upon his skill in the law, that " It lay not under Mr. Attorney's cap to answer any one of their arguments." Selden declared that he had written out all the records from the Tower, the Exchequer, and the King's Bench, with his own hand, and " would engage his head Mr. Attorney should not find in all these archives a single pre- cedent omitted." Mr. Littleton vouched that he had examined everyone syllabatim. Sometimes the references were to the articles of the Great Charter, " in a book to be seen in a library at THE KING AND THE PETITION OF RIGHT. 255 Lambeth/^ An expression in Magna Cliarta admitted of a great latitude and difference in exposition, whether Lex terra was to be expounded by Leoo Regis .?* But the personal liberty of the subject was rested on twelve direct and thirty-one indirect precedents. Of so ambiguous and delicate a nature was then the liberty of the subject^ that it might depend on even the syllables of some forlorn precedent. At that day what would have become of those " .Rights and Liberties " which long after were, declared to be " undoubted/' but which, in the reign of Charles the First, could not have been established by any precedent? Precedent is but an ancient superstition, the wooden idol of the lawyers ; for many things are practised on the plea of a precedent, which should rather have been a warning than an authority. Evil times have produced evil precedents ; and the antiquity of a precedent may be an argument, not to prove its validity, but its obsolete nature. Before there was a precedent, there existed a cause to constitute one — the cause of a precedent then is the elder-born, and it is the philosopher who searches into causes, not the lawyer who hunts for precedents, whose wisdom will safest enlighten his fellow-citizens. Charles the First had the records searched, as well as the lawyers of the Commons ; both found their authorities, and both alike eulogise " the wisdom of former ages.'' Both pretended that our ancestors had obtained a perfection of judicature ; but for ancient laws to retain their perfection, every thing must remain in the same state as when these laws were planned; but as all things have altered, do alter, and will alter, an amazing absurdity is the consequence of resting laws on precedents, since by adopting this popular error we shall find that we have laws for things that no longer exist, and none for things that do exist. Any observation which I may here make is not meant as offensive to the gown, whose sons have often ranked with men of sublime integrity. We have our Selden and our Somers, as our neighbours have their L'Hopital and their D'Aguesseau. But lawyers are not the purest sources of our political principles, nor the most philosophical of our inquirers. Their position in * Racket's Life of Archbishop Williams, ii. 79. 256 TPIE KING AND THE PETITION OP RIGHT. society ties them down to special views; and thus the very excellence of lawyers becomes their inevitable defect ; for the speculative judgment of the philosopher would only impede them in their single course. They must light up their object on one side, and they must offuscate it on the other. In their argu- ment they appeal to precedents, assuming that whatever has been, is authority for what now should be. In their eloquence to catch that momentary glory which vanishes around them, there is no sting in their conscience ; with what artifice they first mould the bosoms of their auditors, and then cast the warm and melted metal of the passions into the form ah'cady prepared to return the impression ! The great lawyers at this period on the side of the Commons, as on that of the King, equally suc- ceeded in maintaining their adverse causes ; and as a lawyer in the habit of facing a question but on one side, can rarely be a philosopher, who looks on both, we may easily conceive that both parties were equally convinced of the force of their own logic, and the validity of their own proofs. All historians condemn Charles the First for his evasions, his equivocations, and his delays in not at first assenting to the " Petition of Right," to which he afterwards acceded ; and his conduct on this occasion has further involved the character of this monarch in one of the heaviest denouncements of insincerity by our last historian, Mr. Hallam. That political school, who hold for their first principle that Charles the First had resolved to govern by arbitrary principles, ascribe his conduct on this memorable occasion to his utter reluctance to grant the just liberties of the subject. The motives of no historical character are so clear and definite as those of the unhappy Monarch whose reign I am recording ; his private and his public history often reflect a mutual light ; and it is on this historical principle that we may view in a new, and surely in a truer light, the history of Charles the First as it concerns the " Petition of Right." It remains still untraced, and involves many singular points of considerable interest and curiosity. At the momentous crisis when the " Petition of Right" was framing, the royal prerogative and the subject^s privilege were more closely brought into contact, and it seemed as if they- could not touch without endangering each other, so hard was it ill THE KING AND THE PETITION OP RIGHT. 257 to distinguish limits which seemed lost in their shadowy separa- tion. Sometimes Charles imagined, that "the House pressed not upon the abuses of power, but only upon power itself;" and sometimes the Commons doubted whether they had anything of their own to give, while their property and their persons seemed equally insecure. With Despotism on one side, as it appeared to the people, and Faction on the other, as it appeared to the Government, Liberty herself trembled. The main point in the " Petition of Right" was the inviolability of the personal freedom of the subject. The Commons asserted that they were requiring no new law, but simply confirming the old : when Charles off'ered his " royal word" that he would pre- serve all the rights of the subjects, "according to the laws and customs of the realm," and as this assurance, however solemnly pledged, did not make them the less urgent for their "petition" being granted, he was suspicious that under the modest title of "a Petition for Right" his unfriendly Commons were tying him up by new bonds, and striking at the monarchy itself. In this dilemma the King listened to his Attorney and his Serjeant, and they, as defenders of his " Right," declared that the propositions of the Commons tended rather to an anarchy, than a monarchy — that if they put a sword into the King's hand with one hand, they took it out with another — that a King must be allowed to govern by acts of State, otherwise he is a King without a council, or a council without a power. Serjeant Ashley, who advanced these principles of absolute power, was committed by the Lords, and, as was not unusual at that moment, was compelled to recant before the House of Commons; but the man of law probably never considered his principles as erroneous as they appeared. The Serjeant had said that "a king must be allowed to govern by acts of state." But if this new act altogether deprived the sovereign of the power of infringing on the personal freedom of the subject, how could he act as the preserver of the state in those sudden exigencies which some- times occur, as in secret conspiracies, or early seditions ? There are moments when Government and Liberty cannot coexist. In a political convulsion, is the supreme magistrate to be reduced to the helplessness of the people themselves, VOL. I. s 258 THE KING AND THE PETITION OP RIGHT. incapacitated to apply a timely, though an irregular remedy ? Charles considered, that to be altogether divested of this power, so long acted on, was dissolving the very foundations and frame of monarchy, and surrendering, to " the petitioners for right," the rights of the throne, established in all preceding reigns. No state, at times, can exist without exercising this secret and instantaneous power. It was the dictatorship of the Roman Republic. So true is the principle, abstractedly con- sidered, which the Crown Serjeant was compelled to recant on his knees, that in our own enlightened period of national freedom, after all which the revolution of William has done for us, we have often been constrained to submit to Serjeant Ashley's principle of government. The suspension of the Habeas Corpus Act with us, places in the hand of Government this absolute power,'for the exigencies of the State. But in the days of Charles, such an expedient was yet unknown. " The omnipotence of Parliament,^' if any assembly of men, subject to the illusions of the hour, and to the infirmities of all the passions, may be invested with such supernatural greatness, had yet no existence, and the idea would have been as anomalous and incomprehensible in those days, as the now portentous political style of " The Sovereignty of the People," which, it appears, is so familiar to us, and so obvious and undeniable in its sense, as to have become the echoed toast of political meetings. The King was hedged in by the most thorny difficulties. , He considered that the Royal prerogative was bleeding on all sides, and however the House protested against republican principles, even at this early period, as we shall hereafter see, there were some who had incurred the suspicion of being anti- monarchical. The assent of the King to the " Petition of Right," at this precise moment, was not, as the matter now appears to us, a mere form. We must place ourselves in the situation of Charles, with all the inherited prejudices of the English monarchy ; we must attend to his fears, and we must listen to his lawyers and judges ; and we must allow him what in his own breast he felt, the consciousness of his rectitude. If liis necessities had compelled him to carry on the affairs of the I THE KING AND THE PETITION OF RIGHT. 259 State, as he had done, we know to whom he would ascribe those cruel and woful necessities. If the King hesitated, and vacillated, and evaded and delayed, these very circumstances, in my mind, prove the sincerity of his conduct, as well as the affliction of his mind. If Charles were really insincere, as his inimical historians assert, nothing need have hindered him from according his assent to that which he never designed to execute. That artifice has not been unusual with faithless governors. Or if Charles were truly that tyrant, which republican writers main- tain him to have been, he could have put an end at once to the painful discussions, by alleging the custom, if not the law of his predecessors, who would never admit the Prerogative Eoyal even to be discussed. Charles gave leave, as he has himself expressed it, " of free debate on the highest points of our Prerogative Royal, which, in the time of our predecessors, kings and queens of this realm, were ever restrained as matters that they would not have discussed." * Happily for us, Charles allowed the yet infant genius of the British Constitution, all its nascent energies — it was still but a cradled Hercules, and many a serpent wound about the child. Rushworth, who never hazarded a reflection in delivering the speeches and pleadings at this crisis, has ventured to make an observation which I shall adopt. " Though," says our collector, " the matter delivered, by the length of it, may seem tedious to the reader, yet if he observe the language and style, as well as the subject- matter, perhaps it will be no penance unto him." Certain it is, and glorious as it is certain, that at this period arose a genera- tion of thinking men and active spirits, such as England had never before witnes^ied, and such as no other people can parallel. Charles, through the Lord-Keeper, in vain inquired "What need of a new law to confirm the old?" In his repeated messages he solemnly assured the Commons that "their liberties were not of grace, but of right;" and that he would "govern according to the laws of the realm." He was willing to satisfy all moderate minds, but there were inconveniences in compelling a government in all cases to proceed in a legal and ordinary way of justice, for there were some where judges could not have * Rushworth, i. 560. s2 260 THE KING AND THE TETITION OF RIGHT. the capacity of judicature, nor rules of law to direct them. Laws must be sometimes broken for the safety of the Common- wealth. Meanwhile he promised that in all future extreme cases, on the petition of the parties themselves, or address of the judges, the King would declare the cause of their commit- ment or restraint, as soon as it might be safely declared. We may perceive the insurmountable difficulties of describing that absolute power which Government may sometimes require, and which is so incompatible with the genius of a free people. In a manuscript letter it is said that the House of Commons sate four days without speaking or doing any thing. The King made an attempt to get rid of the "Petition" altogether. On the first of May, Secretary Cooke delivered an extraordinary message. It was an inquiry whether they would rely upon the royal word, which should be royally performed ? This startling question was followed by a long silence. The awed messenger himself broke it. Cooke painted the hard situation in which a young king, newly come to his crown, had found himself, "but his Majesty assures us we shall not have the like cause to complain. Should we desire more than the established laws ? Shall we strive after greater liberty than our fathers had, and put the crown into less ? Do not think that by cases of law and debate we can make that not to be law which in experience we every day find to be necessary. In dis- charging the duties of my office I must commit men, and must not discover the cause to my gaoler or judge. If I commit without just cause, the responsibility falls on mc.'^ He con- cluded that Government was a solid thing, and must be supported for our good. Such were the chief points urged by the feeble Secretary of State, who, however, was the organ of the real opinions of the Council-table. Debates, of a nature as extraordinary as tlie question pro- pounded to the Commons, shortly after broke forth. The whole scene exhibits a remarkable evidence of the great intelligence and powerful talents of the leaders of the Opposition, who so judiciously disposed of so tender and novel a point as the positive refusal of the King^s word. Several speeches are reported in letters of the times which we do not find in llushworth, whose V I l^HE KING AND THE PETITION OF RIGHT. 261 collections here are disjointed, and seem very imperfect. Sir Nathaniel Rich observed that " Confident as he was of the royal word, what did any indefinite word ascertain?" Pym said, '^ We have his Majesty^s coronation oath to maintain the laws of England, what need we then take his word;" and proposed to move, " Whether we should take the King's word or no ? " This was indignantly resisted by Secretary Cooke. "What would they say in foreign parts, if the people of England would not trust their King ? " and desired the House to call Pym to order. Pym replied, "Truly, Mr. Speaker, I am just of the same opinion I was, viz. that the King's oath was as powerful as his word." Sir John Eliot moved that it be put to the question, "because they that would have it do urge us to that point." In one of these debates Coke wound up all possible arguments in all the majesty of an oracle of law ; a memorable speech, of which the following passage is not given in Rushworth. "We sit now in Parliament, and therefore must take his Majesty's word no otherwise than in a Parliamentary way ; thafc is, of a matter agreed on by both Houses. His Majesty sitting on his throne in his robes, with his crown on his head, and sceptre in his hand, and in full Parliament ; and his royal assent being entered upon record in perpetuam rei memoriam. This was the royal word of a King in Parliament j and not a word delivered in a chamber, and out of the mouth of a secretary at a second hand; therefore I motion, that the House of Com- mons, more majorum, should draw a petition de droiet to his Majesty, which, being confirmed by both Houses, and assented unto by his Majesty, will be as firm an act as any. Not that I distrust the King, but that I cannot take his trust but in a Parliamentary way." * The Commons were as rocks, but there was a melting stream in the Lords thawing into conciliatory measures. A wise statesman, though a great political intriguer, was returning from his secession ; Bishop Williams was once more in the busy scene. Although still deeply engaged with the Opposition, and viewing the popular cause with an intelligence which had anti- * These speeches are entirely drawn from those manuscript letters to which I have frequently referred, in the Sloane MSS. transcribed and collected by Dr. Birch. 262 THE KING AND THE PETITION OP RIGHT. cipated by a century the comprehension of his contemporaries, the Bishop nevertheless loved power too well to decline those means which were likely to obtain it. Perhaps few statesmen would h.ave guided it with a more dexterous hand. A recon- ciliation between Williams and Buckingham was at this moment preparing by some intermediate connexions ; and we discover by the biographer and confidant of Williams, that the Bishop had a secret interview with the Favourite, who promised to reinstate him in all his former power. Meanwhile Williams was allowed to hold his present situation among the ranks of Opposition, where his popularity might enable him to do more service, than an open " ratting." The biographer acknowledges, in his quaint manner, alluding to his conduct at this moment, that " it caused the Bishop to be suspected at first, as if he had been sprinkled with some Court Holy- water," but by the flattering pencil of this portrait- painter, this ugly feature is softened down, and even a gi'ace added, by his insinuation, that the feeling spontaneously flowed from his own breast, to bear witness to the grandeur of majesty; and as this singular biographer scarcely ever ventures on a single idea without some learned reference, he applies a passage in Xenophon, who commends such " unbespoken service," when he says that Hystaspes would do all that Cyrus bade, but Chry- santus would do all he thought was good for Cyrus before he bade him. Our political Chrysantus, ambidextrous as he was, would have found it more difficult than his biographer, to have shown that his conduct was animated by any better spirit than that of intrigue. Guile and treachery were unhappily combined with great wisdom in the remarkable character of Bishop Williams. On the present occasion, though this might have been " un- bespoken service," it was a proff'er that the gentleman was prepared to wear the livery, which, not unreluctantly, he had left off". There were fierce patriots among the Opposition, who as we now well know, were abject enough to ere op into places, without the lofty ambition of this sagacious minister. Although Bishop Williams, in conformity to his new system, was a stickler for the " Petition of Right," he proposes a clause by which the Lords declared that " they would leave entire the I THE KING AND THE PETITION OF RIGHT. 263 Sovereign Power which was trusted to the King for the pro- tection of his people." This clause, which they pronounced was not an alteration, but only an addition, seemed to neutralise the whole " Petition of Right." The awful words " Sovereign Power" inspired debates as extraordinary as that on taking "the King's word." " Let us look into the records to see what is Sovereign Power, — let us give that to the King which the law gives him, and no more," said one member, who desperately quoted Bodin to get at some idea of " Sovereign Power." * Pym's speech is remarkable : " I am not able to speak to this question. I know not what it is. All our Petition is for the laws of England, and this power seems to be another distinct power from the power of the law. I know how to add Sovereign to his person, but not to his power. "VVe cannot leave to him a Sovereign Power ; we never were possessed of it." " I know," said Coke, " that prerogative is part of the law, but Sovereign Power is no Parliamentary word. It weakened Magna Charta and all our statutes, for they are absolute without any saving of Sovereign Power. If we now add it, we shall weaken the foundation of law, and then the building must needs fall." The Lords at length consented that their clause should not be inserted in the Petition to the throne, which should be pre- sented as originally found. All the messages of the King and all the firm resolutions of the Commons, only protracted their mutual anxieties. It now appears, by the recent researches of Mr. Hallam, that the King, before he would grant his assent to the " Petition of Eight," propounded to his Judges certain questions relative to his power of committing State prisoners.f Their answers were sufficiently favourable for the maintenance of his royal prero- gative; and in consequence of their decisions Charles went down to the House, — and, having heard the Petition, gave his assent, not in the accustomed concise and positive form, but in a peculiar manner. He seemed to elude the Petition he granted by a long explanatory declaration, that "the King Rushworth, i. 468. + Hallam, i. 422. 264 THE KING AND THE PETITION OF RIGHT. willed that right be done according to the laws and customs of the realm," &c. &c., he sought to set at rest the spirit which had so long tormented him, and flattered himself that by this contrivance the object remained in the same original vague state. Charles the First, by this " deceit," if it be deceit, expected, as a modern writer * observes, " to outwit the Commons." If Charles imagined that he could, by such a simple artifice, " outwit " a senate of the most intelligent men ever assembled, there was a degree of weak simplicity in his character which I have never detected. Charles, indeed, is reproached for this evasion, and, we shall shortly find, loudly denounced for his insincerity. In all these unhappy evasions and delays I can see only the unhappy conflicts of a royal mind, agitated by distrust and alarm at a novel State instrument, which, if it asked, as it avowed, no new law, he must, in his mode of reasoning, have considered as a supererogatory act ; but which, from the tenacity of the Commons, who had even refused accepting his royal word, he probably suspected as conccahng some latent mischief. The uncustomary and declaratory form which the King used on first giving his assent to the "Petition of Right," disap- pointed the Commons, and renewed their fears. The Commons sullenly returned to their House. Instantly to assuage their stifled indignation, and not to be idle in idling times, for no subsidies were yet to be raised, they were seized with a sudden fit for religion. The halloo was again raised at the trembling hares of Papistry. They were particu- larly alarmed at all " Innovations in religion." What could the Eomanists think when they saw their own style adopted ? The Quintain they selected to shoot their arrows at, was a Court chaplain. Dr. Roger Manwaring. He had published by the King's special command, a pair of sermons on " Religion and Allegiance." Pym, to judge by the length of his oratory, in divisions and sub-divisions must have spoken a large volume on these two little sermons, and Rouse, who opened the charge, compared the Court-divine to Guy Faux and his gang who sought " to blow up the Parliament." The political divine was compelled to recant on his knees all * Mr. Brodie. 1 THE KING AND THE PETITION OF EIGHT. 265 "the errors and indiscretions" of his "crown-divinity" as it was then caustically termed ; he recanted^ dropping some hypo- critical tears, either of terror or vexation, for the Court thought proper at this moment to leave their doctor of divinity to his fate. Without a single complaint against the King's taste for political divinity, they indirectly attacked him in his chaplain^ and, as was wittily observed on that occasion, " as keepers beat whelps before their lions, to make them gentler." On Tuesday, June 5th, a royal message announced that on the 15th the present sessions would close. This utterly discon- certed the Commons. They now gave vent to their suppressed feelings ; they counted up all the disasters which had of late occurred, for a second expedition to Rochelle^ in May, under the Eari of Denbigh, had entirely failed. All now was charged on one man. They knew not at a moment so urgent, when all their hberties seemed at stake, whether the Commons should fly to the Lords, or to the King ! " As they intended to furnish his Majesty with money, it was proper that he should give them time to supply him with coun- cil," said Sir John Eliott, who was renewing his old attacks on the Duke, when he was suddenly interrupted by the Speaker, who starting from the chair, declared that he was commanded not to suffer him to proceed. Eliot sat down in sullen silence. Here we find acknowledged, the secret order confided by the King to the Speaker, that the Commons should abstain from introducing the Duke^s name in their debates. On Wednesday, Sir Edward Coke broke the ice by an allu- sion to Buckingham — " That man, is the grievance of all grievances ! as for going to the Lords that is not Via Regia : our liberties are impeached ; it is our concern ! " On Thursday, the vehement cry of Coke against Buckingham was followed up — " as when one good hound recovers the scent, the rest come in with a full cry." A sudden message from the King absolutely forbade them to asperse any of his Majesty's ministers, otherwise his Majesty would instantly dissolve them. Another confirmation of the secret determination of the King to which I have alluded. The royal message fell like a thunderbolt ; it struck terror — and at the instant, the House of Commons was changed into a 266 THE KING AND THE PETITION OF RIGHT. scene of tragical melancholy. All the opposite passions of human nature, all the national evils which were one day to burst upon the country, seemed, on a sudden, concentrated in this single spot ! Some were seen weeping, some were expostu- lating, and some in awful prophecy, were contemplating the future ruin of the kingdom ; while others, of more ardent daring, were reproaching the timid, quieting the terrified, and infusing resolution into the despairing. Many attempted to speak, but were so strongly aifected, that their very utterance failed them. The venerable Coke, overcome by his feelings when he rose to speak, found his learned eloquence falter on his tongue ; he sat down, and tears were seen on his aged cheeks. The name of the public enemy of the kingdom was repeated, till the Speaker, with tears covering his face, declared he could no longer witness such a spectacle of woe in the Commons of England, and requested leave of absence for half an hour. The Speaker has- tened to the King to inform him of the state of the House. They were preparing a vote against the Buke, for being an arch-traitor and arch-enemy to the King and kingdom, and were busied on their "Remonstrance,^' when the Speaker, on his return, after an absence of two hours, delivered his Majesty's message, that they should adjourn till the next day. This was an awful interval of time ; many trembled for the issue of the next morning. One letter- writer calls it "that black and doleful Thursday I '' and another, writing before the House met, observes, " What we shall expect this morning, God of heaven knows I we shall meet timely."* Charles, probably, had been greatly affected by the report of the Speaker, on the extraordinary state into which the whole House had been thrown; for on Friday the royal message imported, that the King had never any intention of " barring them from their right, but only to avoid scandal, that his ministers should not be accused for their counsel to him ; and still he hoped that all Christendom might notice a sweet parting between him and his people.'' This message quieted the House, but did not suspend their preparations for a " Remonstrance,'* which they had begun on the day they were threatened with a dissolution. * This last letter is printed in Rushworth, i. 609. THE KmG AND THE PETITION OF RIGHT. 267 On Saturday, while tliey were still occupied on the " Ke- monstrance/' unexpectedly, at four o^ clock, the King came to Parliament, and the Commons were called up. Charles spon- taneously came to reconcile himself to Parliament. Hume observes that " Charles was apt hastily to correct any hasty steps which he had taken.^* This at least evinces an earnest intention to correct error. The charge of insincerity, of which Charles the First is so generally accused, frequently requires to be explained ; his situation was often a critical one. On the present occasion he hastened to comply with the joint request of the two Houses, suggested by the moderating language of an independent country gentleman. Sir Robert Philips, to give his assent in the usual form. It is probable that Charles might have quickened his motives on this occasion, to save, if possible, his unfortunate minister from the impending storm of " The Remonstrance.^' The King now commanded to cut off from the Bill his former answer, and replace it by this second assent, according to the ancient form : Soit droit fait come il est desire. " Let it be law as it is desired." But Charles at the time observed, that " his second answer in no wise differed from his first, for I always meant to confirm your liberties, trusting to your protestations that you neither mean nor can hurt my prerogative. It is my maxim, that the people's liberties strengthen the King's pre- rogative, and the King's prerogative is to defend the people's liberties." Are we to consider this declaration as phrases to which the King really affixed no ideas ? Are we to condemn the elevated spirit of Charles the First, as destitute of all honour and sincerity, intent solely on governing by absolute power ? are we to believe that at no time whatever he wished to reign as a constitutional monarch ? Yet were he the tyrant which a party has proclaimed, it must then follow that Charles the First, after such frequent retractations, and such continued compli- ances with the wishes of Parliament, at least yielding to them as often as commanding them, was a tyrant unskilled in tyranny, which always takes the shortest courses to obtain its purposes. The King concluded by reminding the House that " he had done his part, and that if the Parliament had no happy termina- tion, the sin was theirs — he was free from it ! " 268 THE KING AND THE PETITION OF RIGHT. Popular gratitude is as vociferous as it is sudden. Both Houses returned the King acclamations of joy. Every one seemed to exult at the happy change which a few days had effected in the fate of the kingdom. Everywhere the bells rang, bonfires were kindled, an universal holiday was kept through the town, and spread to the country ; but an ominous circum- stance has been registered by a letter- writer ; the common people, who had caught the contagious happiness, imagined that this public joy was occasioned by the King's consent to commit the Duke to the Tower ! At this moment a foreigner would have imagined that he beheld a happy nation, and even an Englishman might have imagined that the discontented were satisfied ! Yet the joy of the Commons did not outlast the bonfires in the streets. They resumed their debates as if nothing had occurred — they handled the same torture by which they had before racked their victim —there was no sympathy for the feelings of the man whom they addressed as their Sovereign ; that common sympathy was denied which man owes to man, and which, if it be not granted, exasperates our infirmities, and renders them still more obdurate. The active spirits in the Commons were resolute in hunting down the game to the death. After all the secret management of Charles with the Speaker, that no personal allusions should be made to the Duke, and when the House had nearly closed with their chief grievances, the debate was as hot as ever, and now they distinguished how the Duke was " the cause of some, and a cause of other grievances.'' One member, seeing the temper of the party, reminded them of the King's earnest desire that all personal aspersions might be forborne, which the King would accept as a proof of their moderation. Another member prayed that " the Remonstrance " they were preparing, should convince the King that it comes from a public sense, and not £rom. private ends. Sir Benjamin Rudyard suggested that the subject of excessive power should be urged home ; thus, without a name, it will reach the Duke, and all others in future times* He declared that the Duke was a man of honour, who had done many great and good offices to this House. The close of the speech of this pure patriot is somewhat remarkable, and I con- THE KING AND THE PETITION OF RIGHT. 269 ceive in favour of Buckingham. " If the forfeiture of my life could breed an opinion that you should have no occasion to complain at your next meeting, I would pawn it to you. Nor let any man say, it is fear which makes us desist ; we have showed already what we dare do.^' The offensive " Remonstrance '^ against the Duke was sent up, though the Speaker prayed to be excused presenting it, but the House would not concede that favour. Charles received " the Remonstrance " like a man who felt an injury. After having granted the famous "Petition,^' he declared, that he had not expected such a return as this " Remonstrance." After the reading of the Remonstrance, the Duke fell on his knees, desiring to answer for himself, but Charles no way relaxed in testifying his personal favour.* The temperate manner in which the King received this Remonstrance, was a disappointment to its framers, who were now convinced that the King would not give up his friend. It sharpened their spirits. "The chief tribunes," as Hacket designates the leaders of the Opposition, " spoke their discon- tents aloud — they had given a bountiful levy of five subsidies, and were called fools for their labour." This is a curious instance of the style reflecting the ignoble feelings of a party, where what should be elevated is mean, and what should be indignation, sinks into spite. Their deeds were now in unison with their style. To avenge themselves for the little effect produced on the King by " the Remonstrance," they immediately fell on Tonnage and Poundage. They struck at, as the King observes, " one of the chief maintenances of my crown." The legal discussions are of the most subtile nature.t One of the great sources of the royal revenues was Tonnage and Poundage, or what we now understand as "the Customs." At the commencement of every reign, they formed the usual grant. No complaint had been raised about them pending the fate of the "Petition of Right." Now the petitioners unex- pectedly declared, that these rates could no longer be levied without a grant of Parliament -, they must be considered as a * This interview is taken from a MS. letter. f Rushworth, i. 628. 270 THE KING AND THE PETITION OP RIGHT. free gift, not an inherent right; and for this they at once appealed to their recent " Petition of Right/' They flattered tliemselves that the King would barter the Minister to provide for his own necessities. They hardly yet knew the force of Charles's character. The Duke was often charged with actions and with expressions of which unquestionably he was not always guilty. At this moment he came down to the House to clear himself of certain calumnies, and personally to face certain members, with whom they appear to have originated. On all such occasions there was a singular openness in his conduct. Charles at this moment, to repel the preparatory accusations of the Commons, ordered that the information which had been preferred in the Star-chamber against Buckingham, should be taken off* the file, as " his Majesty is fully satisfied of the Duke's innocency, from his own certain knowledge, as by other proofs." A most off'ensive " Remonstrance," for the Petition accorded did not prevent remonstrances from multiplying apace, was now framing against the Duke, and to be more than personal, if possible, they condescended to drag in his mother as a patroness of Popery. It was ungenerous to afflict the solitary Sovereign, who on his side had yielded — by these more poignant insults which he could less endure. Their conduct had nothing dignified in its proceedings, for their boldness on this occasion was artful. They imagined that they held the Sovereign at their own disposal, by the power they were assimiing of renewing or withdrawing his revenues from the Customs. If they acted with the daring of the lion, they did not forget the cunning of the fox ; and if the mane of the nobler creature was erected, there was also seen hanging the obscene tail of the meaner animal ; that miserable conjunction of the political chimera, which in the frontispiece of an edition of Machiavel's Prince typifies the great politician. On the 2Gth of June, the Commons were in the act of the last reading of their " Remonstrance," the object of which was to dispute the King's right to levy duties and customs. The Remonstrance was already engrossed and would have been presented within two hours — suddenly the King hastened to the House, sent for the Speaker, and prorogued the Parliament. I THE KING AND THE PETITION OF EIGHT. 271 The unpremeditated address from the throne has all the freedom of a conversation; its simplicity of style betrays the warmth of injured feelings, and it essentially enters into a his- tory of the " Petition of Right," for it throws a clear and steady light on the vacillating conduct of Charles the First, and more particularly on the extraordinary circumstance of his withdraw- ing his second answer to the " Petition of Right," which had satisfied the Commons, and substituting the former one, which they had rejected. Charles told the Parliament — " It may seem strange, that I come so suddenly to end this session, before I give my assent to the Bills. I will tell you the cause, though I must avow, that I owe the account of my actions to God alone. " It is known to every one, that a while ago the House of Commons gave me a remonstrance ; how acceptable any man may judge. I am sure no wise man can justify it." This alludes to the late Remonstrance about Buckingham. There is nothing insulting in the style of Charles the First, in his reflection on the painful personalities included in that Remonstrance ; yet to show in what spirit many have written on this unfortunate Monarch, it may be worth noticing, that for this very passage, Oldmixon, a violent party-writer, accuses Charles with having insulted the House of Commons by " calling them fools." " Now a second Remonstrance is preparing for me, to take away one of the chief maintenances of my Crown, by alleging that / have given avmy my right by my answer to your Petition. " This is so prejudicial to me, that I am forced to end this Session some few hours before I meant, being not willing to receive any more Remonstrances, to which I must give a harsh answer; and since I see that even the House of Commons begin already to make false constructions of what I granted in your Petition, lest it be worse interpreted in the country ^ I will now make a declaration concerning the true intentions" Charles proceeds, " The professions of both Houses in the time of hammering this Petition, were no way to trench upon my Prerogative, saying, they had neither intention nor power to hurt it. Therefore, it must needs be conceived, that I have granted no new, but only confirmed the ancient liberties of my 272 THE KING AND THE PETITION OF RIGHT. subjects." " On the word of a King/' Charles then promised tliat for the time to come they should not have the same cause of complaint, and that what had been done should never be drawn into example to the prejudice of the subject. "But as for Tonnage and Poundage, it is a thing I cannot want, and was never intended for you to ask, nor meant by me, I am sure, to grant. " I command you all that are here to take notice of what I have spoken at this time, to be the true intent and meaning which I granted you on your Petition ; but especially you, my Lords, the Judges; for to you only under mc, belongs the interpretation of laws, for none of the Houses of Parliament, either joint or separate, what new doctrine soever may be raised, have any power either to make or declare a law without my consent." It was necessary to furnish the reader with this address of the King's to enable him to decide on the final circumstance, in this history of the "Petition of Right;" a circumstance which has called down on the unhappy monarch a remarkable reprobation of his faithlessness by our last writers — ^by Dr. Lingard, who is always indifferent to the fate of Charles; by Mr. Brodie, who sees nothing but a tyrant in the monarch, and by Mr. Hallam, who sometimes alarms us with his eloquence. " Charles had the absurd and audacious insincerity, for we can use no milder epithets, to circulate one thousand five hun- dred copies of it (the Petition of Right) through the country, after the prorogation, with his first answer annexed ; an attempt to deceive without the possibility of success. But instances of such ill-faith, accumulated as they are, through the life of Charles, render the assertion of his sincerity a proof either of historical ignorance, or of a want of moral delicacy." * This impassioned passage has been transcribed with tremu- lous nerves —it bears about it sometliing of the thunder and the infallibility of the Vatican, and casts a reforming historian like myself into a forlorn state of excommunication. There seems to me to have been much curious misconception concerning the " Petition of Right." Even Lord Clarendon • Hallam, i. 432 ; Brodie, ii. 196. THE KING AND THE PETITION OP EIGHT. 273 deemed that " it did not prejudice the crown ; " why, therefore, was it delayed ? Charles the First has been blamed even by contemporaries * not hostile to him, for deferring the grant of this ^' Petition,*' to which at length he acceded, but the grace of a ready compliance was lost. Those, however, who were of this opinion, decided by the open profession of the Commons, that they were requiring no new law, and that the subject was only claiming what he already possessed. Even Hume censures Charles the First for his evasions on this occa- sion; but at the same time, his philosophical mind could not pass by such a political crisis without taking the most enlarged view — for after all which has been said on this subject, this new law, professing to be nothing but an old one, was an innovation involving the most unexpected con- sequences. " The King's assent to the ' l^etition of Right,' produced such a change in the Government as was almost equivalent to a revolution" Such is the forcible precision by which the philo- sophical historian conveys the result of his opinions — and in four immortal pages he has separated the ramifications of the question on both sides. Mr. Brodie, repeating the avowed principle of the Commons, insists against Hume, that the ''Peti- tion of Right " merely confirmed statutes, which, though occa- sionally eluded, were sufficiently clear in favour of personal liberty.f But neither the philosopher Hume nor the Monarch himself were of Mr. Brodie's opinion, since the one has ex- plained, and the other was alarmed at the complicate difficulties of the question. Before Charles tho First gave his assent to the " Petition of Right," he secretly propounded certain questions to his Judges relative to arbitrary commitments. Their opinions being such as to induce the King to conclude that the royal prerogative was left sufficiently free for the great purposes of government, he then gave his first assent — but as the judicial decisions had not entirely removed his apprehensions, his first assent to this novel state document was given in an unusual form, being explanatoiy of what he conceived to be its intent. Afterwards * Racket's Life of Archbishop Williams, ii. 77. f Brodie, ii. 188. VOL. I. T 274 THE KING AND THE PETITION OF RIGHT. he conceded it as tlie petitioners wished, in the accustomed words. This discovery of Charles the First's secret conference with his Judges, before he had granted his first assent, Mr. Hallam fortunately made in the Hargrave collection, but his inference is more particularly his own — for he alleges the fact to show how " the sincerity of Charles, in according his assent to the ' Petition of Right,' may be estimated.'' When, shortly after the Commons attacked the sources of the royal revenue, appealing to this very " Petition of Right " for their plea, it realised all those fears and doubts which had occasioned the King's former hesitation and delay, Charles the First started like a man entrapped. In his closing address to Parliament, he returned to his first qualified or explanatory assent. In publishing this " Petition of Right," if the King retained an atom of sincerity, he could not append the second unqualified assent, for the reasons which he had himself alleged in his speech — " lest it should be worse interpreted in the country." Assuredly, Charles the First could never for an instant imagine that he was deceiving the public by withdrawing his last, and substituting his first assent; the public were too well acquainted with both the assents — and they had now before them his speech from the throne. Whatever might have been all along his hesitation and his doubts, any deception now would have been, as Mr. Hallam acknowledges, " an attempt to deceive without the possibility of success" — an absurdity too great to suppose, which, however, Mr. Hallam does suppose ! To this, then, amounts the denouncement of Charles the First's " absurd and audacious insincerity ; " and to the papal excommunication which I have already noticed, must the his- torian be damned, who like myself gives this " proof either of historical ignorance, or of a want of moral delicacy." Had Mr. Hallam and preceding writers compared the speech from the throne, addressed to the nation, before the King pubhshed the " Petition of Right," at least they would have found the reasons which induced Charles the First to withdraw his second assent. No deception was, or could be attempted. Had the King issued the " Petition of Right " with the second assent, after what had occurred, the document indeed would have been a I RECONCILIATION WITH WILLIAMS. 275 faithless one, and the King would have indeed then practised a gross deception; but in the substitution of his first assent, explanatory of the intention of the Petition, I see only an evidence of his sincerity, and not of his deception. CHAPTER XX. RECONCILIATION WITH WILLIAMS: SIEGE OF ROCHELLE, SECOND EXPEDITION : ASSASSINATION OF BUCKINGHAM. During this ardent political contest, and the vacillations of Charles the First in granting the " Petition of Right,^' and his alarm at being left at the mercy of the Commons for one of the constant sources of his revenue, affairs not less urgent were agitating the Cabinet. It is evident that Buckingham found himself inadequate to stand against the popular odium which had been successfully raised against him j the defeat at E-he had not inspired confi- dence in the House of Lords, where he counted on securing most friends. Amid the disordered state of the nation, an army, more for- midable than ever, was immediately required for a fresh expedi- tion to relieve the brave Rochellers, who were closely besieged by the sovereign of France, and were at their last extremities. At this critical moment the Bishop of Lincoln, that instru- ment of state whom Buckingham hated, and whom he had utterly rejected, was gladly embraced. The Minister possibly imagined that he might graft the popularity of a leader of the Opposition on his own measures, and that the administration was likely to be materially assisted by his secret communica- tion. Necessity can convert the oldest enmities into fresh friendships; so quickly political antipathies may turn to political unions ! The Bishop of Lincoln had put forth the signs of a relenting sympathy to his former masters ; first by suggesting that clause which had been designed to neutralise any latent mischief in the " Petition of Bight.'' This had obtained him an interview T 2 276 RECONCILIATION WITH WILLIAMS. with the Lord Duke ; and now on the subject of the Customs, which the Commons were attempting to wrest from the Sove- reign, Williams had concurred with the King's interpretation, maintaining that these duties were inviolably attached to the royal prerogative, and were absolutely necessary for the main- tenance of the sovereignty, more particularly in securing our maritime dominion. The subtle politician had even ventured so far as openly to censure the conduct of his friends in the Com- mons ; but he found that their natures were a metal too obdurate for his polisher to work on. The King was not insensible to the reconciling spirit of an able though discarded servant of the crown, and the Bishop of Lincoln was favoured by kissing the King's hand, and admitted' to a private audience. Charles the First was extremely anxious to learn Williams's opinion of the means by which he might win the affections of his Commons. There was nothing the King, like his Minister, had so much at heart as to become popular : but they were both much too young for hacknied statesmen ! In this conference with the King the Bishop recommended that temporising measures should be tried on the numerous party of the Puritans ; he considered that it was possible by connivance and indulgence to bend their rugged stubbornness — " Not," as he remarkably added, that " he would promise they would be trusty very long to any government." The King approved of the counsel, declaring that he had had some thoughts of the same kind himself. By this observation of Bishop Williams, made in 1628, it would appear that he conceived that those who are here desig- nated as Puritans, were then intent on overthrowing the Government; either as State Puritans, the Monarchy, or as Religious Puritans, the Hierarchy ; but, as under the present Sovereign, the one could not fall without the other, in the party described by Williams, we must include both of them. Indeed in modern history it seems to me always impossible to separate religion from politics; religion engenders politics, and poU- ticians eagerly adopt that most certain mode of enlisting the people on their side. This last secret was confessed by one of our great leading patriots of this period. Predominance in the I SIEGE OF LA EOCHELLE. 277 Government is a term much clearer than any which may be put forth by a sect of rehgionists^ or a faction of politicians. It was now June^ and the Deputies of La Eochelle with Soubise, since January, had been daily urging Buckingham to redeem his plighted honour by hastening an effectual aid to their compatriots. The Earl of Denbigh, in an expedition in May, had reached the Mole, but declaring it impregnable, after firing some cannon, had ingloriously retreated home. Yet though the Rochellers had witnessed this mortifying scene of an English fleet disgracing itself before the eyes of France, still were those unbroken spirits looking towards the shores of Britain^ where, amid their feverish dreams, they seemed to behold, as in a vision, the single saviour of their liberties, and of the independence of Protestant Europe. But now the hour had struck, when those unconquered men were fast perishing, suffering as human beings had never suffered before. The town of La Rochelle held 'fifteen thousand Huguenots. It stood a siege of more than a year, and the French monarch with the royal army, were so outwearied with the impregnability of the town, and the still less yielding nature of the inhabitants, that Louis the Thirteenth was displeased with Cardinal Richelieu for not abandoning the siege. But that great minister had now before his eyes the mighty vision of his youth, inspired with the double inspiration of an apostolical minister sent forth to establish the faith of Rome, and of a minister of state to trample on rebellion. Imploring the King to consider the enterprise as necessary as it was glorious, the Cardinal assumed the command over the discontented army. The versatility of his genius was here shown ; he restored its discipline with such severity, or with such impartial justice, that in his " Testament Politique " the Cardinal exults how " during thirteen months an army of twenty-five thousand men were as obedient as if they had con- sisted of a religious order bearing arms.'' The story of the siege of La Rochelle is one of the most extraordinary events in modern history. It opens for our con- templation the glorious but the painful spectacle of an immolation to the spirit of Liberty, inspired by a human being who seemed at that time, and at no other, to have been placed above our common humanity. 278 SIEGE OP LA ROCHELLE. The extraordinary character of Jean Guiton, the heroic mayor of La RochellCj was known to Buckingham. The diminutive person of this man concealed a heart impregnable to fear, and a mind superior to calamity. Guiton had wished to decline the mayoralty ; but his fellow-citizens, as if conscious of their man, pressed his acceptance of the office. It was then that Guiton, holding up a poignard to the commonalty, declared, " Since you persist in having me for your mayor, I will take the painful office, on condition that it be permitted to me to plunge this poignard into the breast of the first man who shall talk of a capitulation ; and I consent that it be used on the same terms on myself should I ever propose the surrender of this place. I therefore demand that this poignard remain on the table of our council-chamber, ready to be used for this sole purpose." Through all the trying horrors of scenes which seemed to pass beyond the imagination, or at least the endurance of man, this immoveable spirit witnessed the desolation around him in all the forms of death. The miserable citizens of La Rochelle were driven to the sharpest and the most frightful extremities. Provision now became the most precious treasure, and was a& secretly hidden. At length not an animal, not a reptile which had life in it, was remaining in the town ; and they were re- duced to feed on what had never before been food, on old leather and skins, which they had made succulent by soaking them in tallow, parchment boiled in sugar was then an exquisite and costly meal. When Guiton was told that the people were perishing in heaps in the streets, and that it would not be long ere famine would carry off all the inhabitants : " It is sufficient,'' coldly replied the glorious or the insensible patriot ; " it is sufficient should there remain but a single man to close the gates." A female of his acquaintance was shown to him, whose life was passing away in its last puff of breath ; " Are you sur- prised at this?" said Guiton, "it is what must very shortly happen to us all, if we are not soon succoured." It was no unusual sight to observe the dying bearing their own coffins to burial-grounds and laying themselves down to die in them ; and on the entrance of the French army, one of the most frightful spectacles were the vultures hovering over the unburicd dead. Once a tumult gathered to force the Mayor to capitu^ SIEGE OF LA ROCHELLE. 279 late — but at the sight of the heads of twelve of their fellow- citizens affixed to one of the gates, the vociferous mob slunk away in horror and in silence. Once Guiton seemed touched by the cries and tears of helpless women and their expiring children, — " We can never surrender to an implacable enemy/' he cried, " there are no terms for us ! but if my flesh can afford you a meal, you may share it ! " In the night-time some half- famished beings were observed stealing out of the town, hang- ing like shadows on the outer walls, to pluck the wild plants, growing out of the stones, or might be seen crawling to the shore for the chance of picking up some shell-fish ; this was a melancholy contrast with what often occurred on those same walls in the morning ; there a troop of Burghers, armed and shouting, would show themselves in sport, laughing and singing in chorus, to convince the besiegers that the Rochellers were not yet reduced to despair ; but the truth of the night-scene had betrayed the illusion of the morning. Guiton, in this government of terror, rarely broke his sullen silence, except to assure his people that they might depend on the King of England: sometimes he showed a letter from Charles the First, sealed with the arms of England — ^he posi- tively fixed on St. MichaeFs day for the arrival of the English. But he had too often repeated the information — even Guiton himself, as well as others, began to suspect the perfidy of Buckingham. This Mayor of La Rochelle, to the last moment of the siege, maintained the same unchangeable character — but with no favourable impression of the English — and he observed, when Rochelle at length was given up to the French King on the last ineffectual expedition, after Buckingham's death, that " it was better to yield to a King who knew how to take the town of La Rochelle, than to him who had not known how to succour it." This has ever been the usual style of foreigners when they have looked to England for that independence which they could not secure for themselves ; it has been too often our fate, to have found that our aid to foreign intriguers has been thwarted by difficulties at home, or our efforts have been returned by the ingratitude of the foreigners. Guiton con- cluded his course like others of his class ; he gladly retired to London, where the heroic Mayor of La Rochelle appears to have lived in obscurity and quiet. 280 SIEGE OF LA ROCHELLE. At London, the Deputies of La Rochelle had to perform a task of the most delicate nature : they suspected the sincerity of Buckingham. It was not impossible, they thought, that he might make use of them as a means to act on the French Cabinet, and it had been rumoured among the Rochellers, that the Cardinal had said there was nothing to fear from the fleet of England ; they ascribed the delays for their relief to pur- posed negligence ; they considered the parade of the English fleet, under the Earl of Denbigh, to have been a mere show and deception. But all these surmises were to be a close secret suppressed in their own aching hearts ; for the Deputies feared to displease Charles, if they complained of the minister. On the 23rd of July, they however ventured to present a petition to the King. The style is pathetic. " Sire, pardon men on the borders of their graves, if involuntary groans escape from them ; it is natural with those who are at their end, to close their lives by sighs, and certainly this is our condition, if, after all which has been done, it should now be succeeded by the least delay. We were consoled by the promise that the fleet would sail in a fortnight, twenty days past ; fourteen more were added, and now the second month is complete. Good God, Sire ! how long is this time for men who want a mouthful of bread. We conjure your Majesty by the tears and the cries of thousands languishing to die, and by the interests of a million of others, who will be crushed under their ruins on that day which shall witness the destruction of La Rochelle. We con- jure you. Sire, by the glory of your sceptre, under whose shadow they have placed themselves, not to suff'er this innocent blood to tarnish, for ages to come, the splendour of your crown/' They declared, with policy, not with confidence, that they were well persuaded of the zeal of the Duke of Buckingham and the Council, to hasten the promised aid ; but when they had already witnessed these fatal delays, they had reason to fear that his Majesty was ill-served, and that some hidden hand had clan- destinely stopped what the zeal of others had advanced. " It is too usual,'' they concluded, " with the miserable to be suspicious — we may err." And err they did ! These foreigners seem not to have been sensible of the difficulties which Charles the First had himself to wrestle with. In vain the King had repeatedly reminded the I SIEGE OF LA EOCHELLE. 281 Parliament that " the times were for action," and it now appears^ that even the fleet, which was then collecting at Plymouth^ could never have been dispatched, had not Buckingham drained all his own resources. After his death, it appeared that he had furnished unlimited sums to the King, without keeping any accounts whatever, and we are told his family could never establish their claims* Profuse of his fortunes in the cause which he had adopted, he had resolved by a nobler profusion of life itself, to perish or conquer on that impregnable mole, which the great genius of Richelieu had thrown out for above a mile in the ocean. This solemn determination in Buckingham, I have observed in more than one quarter. He swore to Soubise and the Deputies, on departing from Plymouth, that he would die in combat, or enter La Eochelle.* In the manuscript of Gerbier^ his confidential agent, architect and engineer^ Gerbier, after describing some tremendous machines, projected for blowing up the dyke, modelled by works which the Prince of Parma had employed at the siege of Antwerp, tells us that by command of the Duke he wrote to the Eochellers, and had himself paid the secret messenger a hundred jacobuses. The note run, " Hold out but three weeks, and, God willing, I will be with youj either to overcome or to die there." The Duke, a little before his departure from York-house, being alone with Gerbier in his garden, giving his last commands for Gerbier's journey towards Italy and Spain, one of his gentlemen communicated to him a prophecy of Lady Eleanor Davies, the Cassandra of those days, "that the Duke should end his life that month,"-^ Buckingham observed that he had also received a letter from a considerable personage to substitute another in his place ; but no art of man shoald prevent him. " Gerbier, if God please, I will go, and be the first man who shall set his foot on the dyke before Jlochelle, to die, or do the work, whereby the world shall see the reality of our intentions for the relief of that place." He had before, in his closet, declared himself to the same purpose. Of Buckingham's magnanimity in this desperate enterprise there can be no question, nor of the motive. Yet in his day * Mercure Fran9ois. 282 SIEGE OF LA ROCHELLE. his sincerity was strongly suspected, and until lie had left his corpse on the mole of La llochelle, never would his faith or his honour have been credited. He will, however, be found to deserve even a higher eulogy, when it is known how incessantly he resisted the superstitions of the age, demonstrated in reiterated omens and prodigies and prophecies of his fate. On this occasion they even raised the apparition of his father, who, however, thought it best not to come in contact with his son, appearing by the circuitous means of an old steward ; yet the ghost, to prove himself genuine, we are told, communicated some secret intelligence to the steward, which staggered Buckingham, who declared that " it was unknown to any but himself, and could only have been revealed by God or the Devil.'^ All these omens, such as his picture falling out of its frame^ and even the secret whispered from the ghost, might be not so difficult to account for, when we consider that the old Countess, his mother, who was in tears all day since the Duke had taken his final resolu- tion, was practising her own superstitious fancies, to work on the imagination of her son. Many a warning too of assassina- tion had the Duke received ; but so utterly reckless was he of his person, that once on a journey he left his company and rode forwards to join a stranger, who was said to have had a sinister design, and conversing with him, so delighted the man, that lie declared the Duke was quite a different person to what he had been made to believe him. When the remonstrance of the Commons was distributed among the nation, he had been fre- quently advised to wear a quilted coat of mail, or other secret armour ; but he contemptuously replied, " There are no Roman spirits left.'' A few days before the Duke set off on his last expedition, he gave a farewell mask and supper, at York-house, to their Majesties. In the mask the Duke appeared followed by Envy with many open-mouthed dogs ; these represented the barkings of the people ; they were followed by Fame and Truth. The courtly allegory expressed the King's sentiment and the Favourite's sanguine hope. The circumstances of Buckingham's assassination have varied in the detail, as they were reported by different persons. The blow was instantaneous — the effect immediate — terror and con- I ASSASSmATION OF BUCKINGHAM/ 283 fusion darted among all who saw, aiid spread to all who heard* None at first really knew how the affair had happened, or who could be the assassin. Even the papers discovered in Felton's hat. Lord Clarendon supposed consisted of a few lines from "the Remonstrance." Lord Carleton^s letter to the Queen, which I have elsewhere given,* and who was himself present and saved Felton from the vengeance of the military, is imper- fect; so careless are hurried transcriptions in a moment of agitation. Since then, I have seen in a collection of autographs, the identical paper, which differs from all these accounts. It may surprise the curious reader to be informed that Felton's paper appears in the Mercure Fran9ois, literally translated ; so that the French actually possessed the document in 1638, which never entered into our history till 1825, when Dr. Lingard first printed it from the original. I notice this circumstance as one evidence of the authenticity of the secret history, often pre- served in the Mercure ; sometimes the production of Louis the Thirteenth and Cardinal Richelieu. f The deputies of La Rochelle had been warmly engaged with the Duke in conversation: still fearfully suspicious that he designed to delay the expedition, Buckingham showed them fresh letters, which noticed that the Rochellers had within a few days received a convoy of provisions, and that fifty head of cattle had entered La Rochelle. They exclaimed against the intelligence as only an artifice of the CardinaFs to retard the departure of the fleet. They declared that oxen must have wings to fly before they could enter that fated town. Soubise joined them, protesting against the Duke's trusting to such perfidious intelligence. The noisy vivacity which the French usually assume when they would carry their point, accompanied by strong gesticulations, induced the bystanders to imagine that they were speaking to the Duke with great animosity. Bucking- ham assured them that not a day should be lost; he was hastening to take his last leave of the King, who was four miles from Plymouth. Turning from them, on leaving the apartment, * Curiosities of Literatvire, vol. iii. f Mercure Fran9ois, xiv, 650 ; Dr. Lingard, ix. 394. In the French the two paragraphs are transposed. If I am not mistaken, the original consists of two papers joined together, which would account for the transposition. 284 ASSASSINATION OF BUCKINGHAM. he stopped in the passage where Sir Thomas Frier waited to show him a plan : Buckingham was considering it with deep attention^ when an unseen hand, reaching over the shoulder of this officer, who was a short man, struck a knife into the left breast of Buckingham; — it pierced the lungs, and was left plunged into his heart. "Villain \" was the single interjection uttered. Yet Buckingham had then the fortitude to draw the murderous instrument from his own heart: — he would have advanced, as if he meant td reach the assassin, but, staggering, he fell, and was caught up in the arms of his attendant. The Duchess and her sister rushed to the scene of horror — there lay their loved and ill-fated lord, bathed in his blood. All tlie predictions, all their long daily fears, were at length realised by a single blow from an unknown hand, at a spot and at a moment when it could have been least dreaded. The assassin might have escaped detection had he chosen it. Thus resolutely engaged in the cause which the people had so much at heart, the blood with which Buckingham would have sealed it was shed by one of the people themselves, the enter- prise designed to retrieve the national honour so long tarnished, was perhaps fatally prevented, and the Protestant cause suf- fered by the hand of one who imagined himself to be, and was, blest by nearly the whole nation as a patriot* Such are the false appearances of things in the exaggerations of popular delusion. The hand which struck Buckingham was not, indeed, guided by " a Roman spirit," though Felton mistook himself to be one, and the whole nation imagined him such. In Felton we see a man acting from mixed and confused motives. Of melancholy and solitary habits, and one of the many officers who had brooded over disappointments both in promotion and arrears of pay, he felt a degree of personal animosity towards Buckingham. With great integrity of truth and honour, he was deservedly known by the nickname of "Honest Jack." The religious enthusiasm of the times had deeply possessed his mind ; and when " the Bemonstance " appeared, it acted on his imagina- tion, as probably on many others — and he believed that the Duke was "one of the foulest monsters upon earth." " When. I struck, I felt the force of forty men in mc ! " ASSASSINATION OF BUCKINGHAM. 285 exclaimed the melancholy hypochondriac. Thus, with a per- sonal dislike to Buckingham, having conscientiously tendered four propositions to some divines, whose nugatory solutions were no impediment to what, in his mind, he was covertly driving at — Felton wandered about, watching his opportunity, till he struck the meditated blow. The political martyr was entirely lost in the contrite penitent ; and even Mrs. Macauly would not condescend to rank him among her republican patriots, because the Duke had not been assassinated on the right principle. Felton, in his own day, was considered as a being almost beyond humanity. But while the name of Felton was echoing through the kingdom, our modern Brutus was exhibiting a piteous spectacle of remorse — so different often is the real person himself from the ideal per- sonage of the public ! The assassination had been a theoretical one — depending on the four propositions Felton had submitted to his inept casuists. When the King^s Attorney, as the Attorney- General was then called, furnished the unhappy criminal with an unexpected argument, Felton acknowledged that he had been in error, and his conscientious spirit sunk into despair. A long agonising scene of contrition succeeded. Naturally brave, this '^ stout soldier " was seen always shedding tears. In the open court he stretched out his arm, offering it to be first cut off — he petitioned the King to wear a halter about his neck while he lived — and prayed to be allowed to ask pardon on his knees to the whole establishment of Buckingham, from the Duchess to the scullion. Yet the name of John Felton may fill a date in the annals of our constitutional freedom. It is a bright passage in the history of this unhappy man, that when broken down in spirits and menaced with torture, he firmly asserted the rights of a Briton. When Lord Dorset told Felton that it was the King's pleasure that he should be put to the rack to make him confess his accomplices, Felton answered, " My Lord, I do not believe that it is the King's pleasure, for he is a just and [gracious Prince, and will not have his subjects tortured against law. I do affirm upon my salvation, that my purpose was not known to any man living ; but if it be his Majesty's pleasure, I am ready to suffer whatever his Majesty will have inflicted upon me : yet 286 CHARACTER OP THE DUKE OP BUCKINGHAM. this I must tell you by the way, that if I be put upon the rack, I will accuse you, my Lord Dorset, and none but yourself." * This firm and sensible speech silenced the court. A council was held, the Judges were consulted, and delivered an unex- pected decision, that " Felton ought not to be tortured by the rack, for no such punishment is known or allowed by our law." Thus the Judges condemned what the Government had long practised. Blackstone yields a fraternal eulogium to the honour of the Judges ; but Hume more acutely discovers the cause of this sudden tenderness; "so much more exact reasoners, with regard to law, had they become from the jealous scruples of the House of Commons J' CHAPTER XXI. CHARACTER OF THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM. It may justly excite the surprise of the unprejudiced, that the dissipated, the prodigal, and the impetuous Buckingham should have possessed such a strong hold of the afi*ections of the grave, the temperate, and economical Charles, and finally, should have obtained the young monarch's entire confidence in his adminis- tration. No royal favourite ever so suddenly reached to such an ascendancy in power, nor was there ever one more likely to have retained the envied position as long as his master could have maintained him there, however little the minister might have been capacitated from his inexperience and his sanguine temper to have become a great statesman. The portrait of Buckingham is usually viewed in the carica- ture of a royal minion, one of those profligate men, who, reckless of all means, concentrate their passions into one ignoble selfishness, a political monster, whom a party would send out into the wilderness with aU the curses of the people on his devoted head. It certainly was not his least crime, in the eyes of some, that Buckingham had been the permanent favourite of two monarchs, who had spoiled their child of fortune. Perhaps his greatest * Harleian MSS. 7000, J. Medo to Sir Mat. StutevUle, Sept, 27, 1628. I CHAEACTER OF THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM. 287 crime was, as Sir Henry Wotton expresses it, that " his enter- prises succeeded not according to the impossible expectation of the people/' The portrait of Buckingham, by Hume, seems to me a character dove-tailed into a system adjusted to the historian's plan of lightening the errors of Charles the First, by dividing them among others. Hume hits off at a single stroke a true feature, that of " his English familiarity and his French viva- city.'' A feature, however, is but the part of a likeness ; and even a characteristic trait may conceal the more favourable, but the less obvious parts of no ordinary man. All the fascination of Buckingham's character is lost in the general shade cast over it by the niggardly commendation that " he possessed some accomplishments of a courtier." Some indeed, but not all, for dissimulation and hypocrisy were arts in which this courtier was unskilled. His sweet and attractive manner, so favoured by the Graces, has been described by Sir Henry Wotton, who knew him well : and though he had a British roughness at command, which the haughty Olivarez experienced, another contemporary observes on that occasion, that " if he taunted or derided their stateliness, it must have been on provocation; or at least what he considered as such, for he was as well studied in blandishments as any courtier in Europe." Clarendon, another living witness, when in the prime of life, as yet untouched by party anger, having no cause to advocate, and no quarrel with truth, detected a more forcible feature in the mind of Buckingham; for he tells us, "that he was the most rarely accomplished the Court had ever beheld, while some that found inconvenience in his nearness, intending, by some affront, to discountenance him, perceived he had masked under the gentleness a terrible courage as could safely protect all his sweetness." If Buckingham were indebted for his first advancement to the beauty and graces of his person; and to those lighter accomplishments which adorn the circle of a palace life, these were adventitious circumstances, which could never have ob- tained an undiminished influence over the mind of Charles. The Duke must have had qualities of a better nature, to have secured the constancy of Charles's personal attachment. The 288 CHARACTER OP THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM. inexperience of his age when the King ascended the throne, in some respect will account for the fascination ; hut the royal affection was never more fervent, than when Buckingham was involved in defeat and disgrace, and hunted down as a state-victim. Had Buckingham been that creature of effeminacy which party has represented him, or " an enemy to his country," as their declaration denounced him, could he have cherished that nobler spirit, which twice staked his life for the glory of his sovereign, and to win the love of the people ? The Memoir of Gerbier, with some unpublished letters of his Duchess, which I have read, authenticate this magnanimity. The Duke, in con- fidential interviews with Gerbier, repeatedly declared his solemn resolution, in his last expedition, to be "the first man who should set his foot upon the dyke before Bochelle, there to die, or do the work." In that devotion of patriotism, there was more heroism than we now can easily imagine ; for Buckingham, before his departure, as we have seen, had to resist the strange superstitions of the times, in prophecies, prognostics, and cer- tain domestic omens, which rapidly followed one another. These had raised the terrors and the intreaties of the bigoted Countess, his mother, whose counsels had often governed him, and the bitter raillery and remonstrances of the Duchess, his wife, who in her letters ridicules the folly of courting the people, assuring him, that do whatever he would, never could he be- come popular. The tide of public opinion had set so strongly against the Duke, impelled by the odium which the Opposition had stuck to his name, and his own luckless fortune, that the Duchess deemed it a hopeless folly to struggle any more. But the spirit of this favourite of two monarch s had never been dissolved in that corporeal voluptuousness which his habits indulged. We conceive him an Antinous when he would have been an Alcibiades — restless for glory, amid splendour and power, possessed by few in the whole history of civilised ages. Buckingham had lofty aspirations ; a spirit which was fitted to lead others by its own invincibility ; a mind of quick concep- tions, which an early practice in the world had sharpened, but this practice was unaccompanied by that rare judgment which is only tutored by the severities of time, and exercised by patient thought. It was his misfortune to have encountered I CHARACTER OF THE DUKE OP BUCKINGHAM. 289 but few obstacles in his rapid advancements, and his hardy self- will disdained to imagine any. The genius of the man was daring and magnificent, and his elocution was graceful as his manners; but these were natural talents — he possessed no acquired ones. " Had the Duke of Buckingham," observed Lord Clarendon, " been blessed with a faithful friend, the Duke would have committed as few faults, and done as trans- cendent worthy actions as any man in that age in Europe." But Buckingham, with all his heedless impetuosity, was by no means insensible to his deficiencies, particularly on the object of his neglected studies, and the profounder science of politics. When Lord Bacon presented the Duke with his Novum Organum in Latin, Buckingham returned his acknowledgments, lamenting his unskilfulness in the language, with a graceful elegance and vivacity of ideas, which convey a high notion of his fine talents. This consciousness of his own deficiencies is an interesting trait in his character. He was so ardent to possess that knowledge which he could not acquire by study, and that wisdom which his love of pleasure and his irregularities too frequently forbade, that he consulted every man of eminent knowledge in his peculiar department. He was importunate with the illustrious Bacon till that great man furnished him with counsels to direct him in his place of the King^s Favourite. That volume of a letter has come down to us, and the curious and philosophic will look over the observations of the master- mind, who tells us that "his life hitherto had rather been contemplative than active; I have rather studied books than men; I can but guess, at the most, at those things in which you desire to be advised." We have, however, his practical advice, and the first he gives is, " not to trust only to his servants, who may mislead you, or misinform you, by which they may perhaps gain a few crowns, but the reproach will lie upon yourself." Thus even the sage predicts his own fate, without suspecting the prophecy ! The arrangement of his dispatches — the choice of the bishops and the judges, even of the serjeant-at-law — the privy counsellors — the conduct of foreign negotiations in the choice of ambassadors — the manage- ment of our marine, and our armies, and our trade — of our young colonies — of the King's household, and " the lords and VOL. I. u 290 CHAEACTER OF THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM. chivalry of the court ^'— the planting of orchards, hop-yards, and woods, draining of lands, and the making of navigable rivers, — these are the comprehensive and curious subjects which are treated of in the philosopher's epistle. Whether Buckingham ever read the letter twice may be doubtful ; we trace none of its designs attempted in the short and hurrying course he ran. In the political wisdom of the Lord-Keeper Williams, Buckingham had sought for that aid which his warm patronage had, he con- sidered, ensured to him; and admirable advice, and prompt expedients, he often received, mingled, however, with the adula- tions of a courtier. But it is the misfortune of the great, how- ever honest their desire, to find, when they would be led by others, that such a servant may become the rival of his master. To direct his taste in architecture and pictures, Buckingham selected a remarkable man. Sir Balthazar Gerbier, the pupil of Rubens, and who was at once a secret agent of Government, and the inventor of his patron's magnificent masques and ban- quets ; which reached to such a perfection of art, as to have extorted the wonder of all foreign ambassadors. Buckingham was a votary of the fine arts, for we find no less a personage than the critical and refined Wotton, at Venice, procuring pictures for the Duke, and, among others, sending over " a work of Titian's, wherein the child in the Virgin's lap playing with a bird is so round, that I know not whether I shall call it a piece of sculpture or picture, and so lively that a man would be tempted to doubt whether nature or art hath made it." Nor was Buckingham, in the munificence of his tastes, inattentive to literature, for it was he who purchased from the heirs of Erpinus a collection of Arabic manuscripts, which the University of Cambridge possesses as his gift. The very errors and infirmities of Buckingham seem often to have started from more generous qualities. Too devoted a friend, and too undisguised an enemy, carrying his lovea and his hatreds on his open forehead ; too careless of calumny, and too fearless of danger ; he was, in a word, a man of sensation, acting from impulse; scorning, indeed, prudential views, but capable, at all times, of embracing grand and original ones. He cannot be fairly accused of having been indifferent to the honour of his country, or of being an enemy to the people. Popularity, indeed, was his passion. He seriously engaged I CHARACTER OP THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM. 291 himself in the best designs, but volatile in the midst, his greatest error sprang from a sanguine spirit ; a circumstance finely touched on by Sir Henry Wotton. — " He was ever greedy of honour, and hot upon the public ends, but too confident in the prosperity of beginnings." With the defects of this man's character the reader is acquainted. His temerity was flushed by insolence, and his ambition panted impatient of emulation; he would have had every man his friend, and every friend too, sensible that his enmity was terrible. In the sunshine or the lightning of his eye, men were to flourish or to fade. Loaded with that plurality of offices which rendered him odious to the public, on one occasion, as we have shown, he had generously, or perhaps from policy, off*ered to lay them down. But so unfortunate had the expeditions to Cadiz and Rochelle proved in the hands of others, that Buckingham seemed urged rather by necessity than choice, to retain his offices of Lord High Admiral and Com- mander-in-Chief, with a resolution to carry on his great objects by his own decisive exertions, and even to perish rather than to fail. But to others it seemed also that he would have conferred all the offices of the three kingdoms on his kindred and his friends, dispensing his favours, regardless of their value, and which was more mischievous to himself, of the merits of the claimants — " delighting too much in the press and affluence of dependants and suitors, who are always burrs and sometimes the briars of favourites." Thus, has that long-experienced poli- tician. Sir Henry Wotton, observed, on the crowd who waited at the levees of this Duke, and had obtained from the people the odious distinction of the " Dukehngs." But the misery of Prime Ministers and Favourites, is a portion of their fate which has not always been noticed by their biographers. Buckingham, so sensitive to the jealousy of ^ower, tasted all its bitterness. During his absence from England, that wily courtier, his humble friend, the Lord- Keeper Williams, had certainly supplanted him in the favour of his Royal Master ; he was turning towards the Earl of Bristol, and balancing between the old favourite,who had ceased to be one, and him who was about to become one. The mighty shadow of a greater statesman had crossed Buckingham in l)is path. u2 292 CHARACTER OF THE DUKE OP BUCKINGHAM. A piece of secret history has come down to us, which exhibits the joyous and volatile Buckingham in a situation which we could hardly have suspected in the life of this Favourite. When abroad, his confidential secretary. Dr. Mason, slept in the same chamber with the Duke. To his amazement, he then observed that at night the Duke would give way to those suppressed passions which his unaltered countenance had concealed by day. In the absence of all other ears and eyes, Buckingham would break out into the most querulous and impassioned language, declaring that " Never had dispatches to divers princes, nor the great business of a fleet, of an army, of a siege, of a treaty of war and peace, both on foot together, and all of them in his head at a time, so much broke his repose, as the idea that some at home under his Majesty, some of whom he had so well deserved, were now content to forget him." So short-lived is the grati- tude observed to an absent favourite. The opportune death of the old King saved Buckingham from the disgrace he had anticipated. To Charles and to the patriotic party, Buckingham appeared in very opposite characters. To envy, to the common passion of vulgar envy, Charles traced their personal rancour to the friend of his heart. On the expedition to Rochelle, the King accompanying the Duke to inspect the ships at Deptford, observed, " George, there are some that wish both these and thou might perish together; but care not for them, we will both perish together if thou doest." Unques- tionably, such was the unchangeable determination of Charles; and Sir Robert Cotton, who was often near both the King and the Favourite, and often wisely opposed the minister without offending the master, has truly touched on the King's affection — " Certainly," Sir Robert concluded — " the King will never yield to the Duke's fall ;" and then he finely characterises the youthful monarch, " being a young man resolute, magnanimous, and ten- derly and firmly affectionate where he takes."* So unchange- able indeed was Charles's affection for Buckingham, that he cherished his memory as warmly as his life, and designed to * A libel had been taken down from a post in Coleman Street, by order of tho Lord Mayor, who sent it to his Majesty. " Who rules the kingdom ? The King. W)io rules the King ? The Duke. Who rules the Duke 1 Tho Devil. Let the I CHARACTER OF THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM. 293 raise a monument to tlie unfortunate minister, whom he called " his martyr/' " The world is much mistaken in his character/' said the King : " he did not govern me, but much the contrary ; he has been a most faithful servant, as I will show the world/' The King here alluded to his own consequent conduct ; for after the death of Buckingham, there were no changes, but the King was extremly active in business. " The King holds in his own hands," writes Lord Dorchester, '^ the total direction, leaving the executory part to every man within the compass of his charge." * For Charles, Buckingham had been the fascinating companion of his youth, and had either caught from the Prince, or had infused into his tastes, a congenial passion for those arts which were yet foreign in England, and which constituted the supreme delight of his happier hours. It is strange to observe, what however is true, that the King, at no period of his reign, was enabled to indulge that gorgeous magnificence in masques and banquets, in which Buckingham, expending for the evening from one to five thousand pounds, entertained the court. And Buckingham, too, was the man on whose commanding spirit the young sovereign fondly rested the prosperity and even the glory of his reign; for Buckingham had frequently boasted that '' he would make Charles the greatest monarch in Europe." "What " the greatest " meant in this courtier's vocabulary we may easily conceive. The pacific reign of James had dimmed the glory of our country in the eyes of foreigners, with whom we are never great, unless we are fighting their battles, and confederating for their interests. The Machiavels of foreign cabinets will Duke look to it ; for they intend shortly to unhand him worse than they did the Doctor ; and if things be not shortly reformed, they will work a reformation them- selves." This alludes to Dr. Lambe, who was called " The Duke's Devil," an old conjuror of infamous character, whom the mob had actually torn to pieces, for which the City was imprudently fined for not delivering up the murderers. Harleian Collection, 383, letter 322. Many strange stories are told of this octogenarian Pander, particularly of his intercourse with Buckingham. It is, however, a curious fact, which Carte has positively given, that the person of the Old Conjuror was even unknown to the Duke. If this fact be true, it is a striking instance of those false rumours which are kept afloat by a party, till those historical calumnies become traditions. " The Duke's Devil," after all, was no Devil of Buckuigham's ! * Sloane MSS. 4178, letter 519. 294 CHARACTER OF THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM. look with contempt on the domestic blessings which a British sovereign would scatter among his subjects, and his presence with the foreigner is only felt in his armies. The new reigu had opened with enterprise, and the glory of our arms was now to reinstate the nation in its military character ; but a peace of twenty years had rusted the arms of our soldiers, and most of our commanders were unskilled in the art of war. Buckingham had indeed triumphed in the rivalry of courtly grandeur with the other two mighty statesmen, who were conducting the for- tunes of Europe, in the persons of their young sovereigns ; but the completion of his views was to be reached by a more daring spirit. To the romantic and spirited Prince it seemed a gener- ous ambition, a conflict for national honour, at home and abroad ; and the Duke who had wrestled with the awful minis- ters of Spain and France, felt not the less a passion for popularity, spurning at hfe to obtain it from the people of England. Charles then, while he more intimately knew and admired the dazzling qualities of his friend, with an eye of youth and aff'ection, was yet unpractised in discerning the shades of ambiguous virtues ; and the King seems never to have suspected that the resolute but ill-regulated spirit of his favourite was more likely to plunge him into many fatal efforts, than able to extricate him from them. The virtues of a man who cannot be deemed virtuous ; the talents of a man who so frequently was mortified to discover their incompetence ; and the passion for popularity which pos^ sessed one who never was popular, are the paradoxical qualities which may instruct us in the very interesting character of the Favourite of Charles the First, who had in vain attempted to become the favourite of the world ! Had Buckingham escaped from the knife of the assassin, he would most probably have preceded Strafford and Laud to the scaffold. He was not that spiritless and corrupt Favourite who could have crept into obscurity.* * It was the opinion of Clarendon that had Buckingham lived longer, the observa- tion and experience he had gained had very much improved his imderstanding ; which, with the greatness of his spirit and jealousy of his Master's honour, to whom his fidelity was superior to any temptation, might have repaired many of the incon- veniences which he had introduced, and could have prevented their mischief. I. 73. I CHAPTEU XXII. OF ROYAL FAVOURITES. The fate of the Duke of Buckingham enters into the history of Royal Favourites; but histories of royal Favourites con- sist only of satires and invectives, or, if they aspire to the dignity of a narrative, present but a shapeless mass put toge- ther by those who collect every thing and discern nothing. The subject, however, forms a chapter in the history of man, and political sagacity may yet unravel some truths out of the comphcated knots and twistings of prejudice and passion. We perpetually find accounts of royal Favourites, and it is sufficient to have been one, to incur the condemnation of his- torians, too apt to echo the cries of the past. Those monsters, or ministers, are sometimes exhibited as remorseless criminals, or wretches dissolved in wanton corruption. It is difficult to conceive how kings can be so insensible to their own interests, as voluntarily to choose such inept beings for Favourites ; but we are still more surprised when we discover the activity of these men, who having obtained all things by favouritism, with- out a solitary talent, or an obscure virtue, still like other men who have a name to create, and a career of glory to run, pursue life agitated by the same hopes, and mindful of the same labours. How did it happen that the dissolute or the trifler quitted the bed of roses on which he slumbered? The Fa- vourite who fills a space in history, who was the object of con- temporary hatreds, and who still furnishes the declaimer with invectives, however his enterprises may have succeeded, or may have failed, is a distinct personage from the minion of caprice who remains buried in his own inglorious obscurity. Attached to the household, the name of the latter personage rarely appears, his actions — never. We may therefore suspect, whenever we discover any one of these royal Favourites prominent in history, that his spirit was of another cast than it appears in this disguise 296 ROYAL FAVOURITES. of favouritism, and that lie aimed at being something more than a royal Favourite. It would not be difficult to show that some have had the misfortune of being royal Favourites who have not been what is called in party-writing, " wicked Ministers ; " and that others whom we would not eulogise, have, notwithstanding, betrayed some redeeming public virtues. Many Favourites have been given up as a concession to the public voice, and what was hardly to be expected, from the very jealousy the Favourite had excited in the breast of his royal Master. If Elizabeth feared the greatness of the heroic Essex, we should not be surprised that James the First became alarmed at the influence of Buckingham. The lamentation of Wolsey has been repeated by several fallen ministers much in the same words. Louis the Thirteenth was visibly jealous of all his favourites, from his first, Luynes, whom he bitterly nicknamed " the King," to Cardinal Richelieu, whom he felt he could only obey, and not command. The gratitude of kings is often an ambiguous virtue ' — it is always an uncertain one. A royal favourite, whatever he may be, has the two great divisions of mankind arrayed in hostility against him: the great, into which class he has been obtruded ; and the obscure, which he has for ever abandoned — and still his most formidable enemy has usually been found in himself. Many have been torn to pieces by the triumphant people ; for whether the unhappy man be a Sejanus, or a Marshal d'Ancre, the populace in every age, agitated by the same hatred of the abuses of power, imagine that they are satiating their vengeance in the single State-victim which has been cast out to them. We may, how- ever, be struck by this curious fact, that there is hardly one of these renowned favourites but has found an unimpassioned apologist : and on a calmer investigation than their contempo- raries were capable of exercising, they have been considerably exculpated from the errors or the crimes imputed to tliem ; and some better designs have been manifested in these contemned men, than the passions of their enemies could discover. The memorable fate of the Marshal d'Ancre and his lady, the Italian favourites of Mary de Medicis, is a striking instance of the terrific malignity of popular rage, even on insignificant I EOYAL FAVOURITES. ^9t characters. The single passion of D'Ancre was inordinate avarice; he gorged on wealth; but no act of oppression had marked the career of this grasping Florentine : it is not known that he had any personal enemy, while his obliging temper had secured many friends. The Marechalle was a superior genius ; and her famous reply, when on her trial for witchcraft, was dignified and great. " By what magic," she was interrogated, " had she obtained such an ascendancy over the Queen- Mother ? " — '' By no other magic," she replied, " than that power which a firm spirit possesses over a weak mind." After D^Ancre's assassination^ the mutinous populace, furious as a herd of maddened elephants, unburied his corpse, burnt his heart, sold his flesh by pieces, and his ashes by the ounce, and cast his remains into the river. Never did human being suff'er so much for being an Italian, and for growing too opulent in France. Marshal d^Etrees, in his Memoirs of the Regency, though on the side of the French Princes in opposition to Mary of Medicis, could not avoid expressing his astonishment at these horrid circumstances, and on the public execution of the Marechalle — he acknowledged the D^Ancres^ general bene- volence, and that personally they had few, if any, enemies. He ascribes the singular and undeserved catastrophe of the family of the D'Ancres to fate ; but another cause, more obvious, was the monstrous libels which his party had heaped on these royal favourites, by which they had rendered them hateful to the people; and as Marshal d^Etrees was the ablest writer of his party, the surprise he felt, and the enormities which he describes, shrewdly observes the historian of Louis the Thirteenth, were in great part his own work.* The immortal chisel of Tacitus has sculptured the colossal statue of a Royal Favourite. The characteristics, the manners, and the principle of action of this species of personage, may be detected in the Sejanus of History. But who was Sejanus himself? Tacitus is the most awful genins whom the Muse of history has ever inspired, but he contemplates on human nature in masses. In the ideal of this master, the portrait resembles life ; but we may suspect that, placc^d by the side of the living original, the portrait might have lost in truth what it had * Pere Griffet, Hist, de France, xiii. 196. 298 ROYAL FAVOURITES. gained in effect. The monster-minister of Tacitus appears more naturally human in the portrait of Velleius Paterculus, whose personal knowledge has preserved for us a dignified characteristic of the man.* Place this by the side of the important confession of Tacitus himself — that while this minister lived, he repressed the dark passions of Tiberius ; and further, that the extinction of this State-victim afforded no relief to the Commonwealth, since, for many years after, the master continued the system of his condemned servant ; and we may be induced to ask with Juvenal — Sed quo cecidit sub crimine ? quisnam Delator ? quibus indiciis 1 quo teste probavit I Nil horura 1 But, tell me, why was he adjudged to bleed ? And who discovered I And who proved the deed ! Nothing of this ? If the administration of Sejanns were not his own, but his master^ s, this royal favourite, flattered by a greater dissembler than himself, was probably one of those mighty machines of tyranny which are used till no longer serviceable. How skilfully at times Sejanus interposed between the people and the passions of their tyrant, is at least hinted at by the great historian. Sejanus perished, for he found a jealous master. But Richelieu in France, and Pombal in Portugal, — there are those who would add Pitt in England, — actuated by the same principle of a severe administration, have been considered as the greatest statesmen of modern Europe. Richelieu, by many an immo- lation, saved his country from intestine wars, and trode down an aspiring aristocracy of Princes ; his genius survived him in the glory of the future reign. Pombal, anticipating the spirit of our own century, with no other aid than his own philo- * All the critics repeat after one another that Velleius has disgraced himself by his adulation of this model of all unpopular ministers. They cannot imagine that any single feature of humanity can form a part of tlieir political phantom. The charm of a brilliant style may seem that of courtly panegyric ; but allowing for the times, the writer, and the minister, he must possess little knowledge of human nature who does not discern some personal strokes which betray the intimacy of the writer. Velleius describes Sejanus as a person well adapted for his laborious office. " A vast frame was joined with as vigorous an intellect. His severity was often enlivened by the old Roman pleasantry : in the midst of business, he seemed like one at leisure ; ascribing nothing to himself, he obtains everything from all, and his coun- tenance and his life are as tranquil as his genius is vigilant." EOYAL FAVOUEITES. 299 sophical fortitude, doomed the extinction of tlie Jesuits, and established the commerce of the country ; nor could the stability of his designs be interrupted by a conspiracy which menaced the throne, and an earthquake which shook his metropolis into ruins, and persuaded the people that Heaven warred against the Minister. But the towns of France were turned into garrisons by the despotic Richelieu, and the dungeons of Lisbon were enlarged by the inexorable Pombal. These are ministers whose administrations only differed from that of the Sejanus of Tiberius, in the character of their sovereigns. But Sejanua himself, had there been a free press at Rome, could not have been rendered more odious by a swarm of satires and libels than were these two great statesmen. Whenever there happens a crisis in the fortunes of an empire, and a minister is compelled to adopt a cruel administration, he cannot escape from the hatreds of his contemporaries. An opposite species of royal Favourites has attracted the partialities of their sovereigns by their agreeable qualities, insinuating themselves into the affections of their prince, perhaps by accident, and often for trivial or unworthy purposes. But were they only puppets to amuse their prince? Piers Gaveston, the playmate of Edward the Second, has always been condemned as a dissolute minion. We know but imperfectly those times, when the historians were as barbarous as the events they record, and when the nation was divided between conspiring barons and a murderous adulteress. Yet of this person, whom his enemies have made infamous in history, we should form a very erroneous notion, if we cannot discriminate truth amidst passion and prejudice. This young Gascon pos- sessed many interesting qualities; he was loved by many; nor have his generous nature and brilliant genius been concealed by his imprudent contempt of jealous nobles, whom he stung by his wit, and foiled by his lance : he might have gained them by his favours. Their vengeance was an act more criminal than any he had committed in his life. Much that age owed to his elegant accomplishments ; and the six years of his adminis- tration softened the warlike barbarism of the day, and opened the polished chivalry of a happier reign.* Luynes became * Turner's History of London, ii. 128. Mr. Turner has skilfully collected the more interesting particulars of Gaveston. The reader may be amused at " the con- 300 ROYAL FAVOURITES. a similar favourite with Louis the Thirteenth. He had taught the young Prince the art of bird-catching. After the assassin- ation of the Marshal d'Ancre, the protege, of the Queen-Mother, Luynes rapidly ascended to favour. As Minister and Constable of France he excited the indignation of the nation — in all pro- bability, chiefly the indignation of the nobility. But are we to imagine that " King Luynes,^' as Louis the Tiiirteenth himself had nicknamed him, was only dexterous at liming speckled magpies? He had caged his sovereign — and large was his aviary. The man who could retain his administration shaken by so many powerful factions, we may be assured practised deeper arts than those of a bird-catcher. He triumphed over all, and oppressed none; he was prodigal to his friends, — a certain means to make enemies. As a French statesman, he first opened a war, however then unsuccessful, with the Hugue- nots ; a system which the great politician Richelieu continued, and which in the end subdued that " ambitious sect," as they are called in French history. Could such a man as Luynes have been destitute of talents and all good qualities ? But we must not expect to discover a single one in that heap of satires and lampoons which accompany his name.* Posterity must decide by the acts of this favourite, whom, though envied or detested, the impartiality of time acknowledges to have rendered important services to his sovereign. Thus two contemptible royal favourites appear to have been very difi*erent characters from those which the popular impres- sions had received of them. " But sovereigns should have no favourites ! " is the universal cry. A learned historian of stoical morals observes that " Judicious friendship is honourable and beneficial to the throne ; favouritism implies imbecility." Such is the abstract counsel of a sage ! And whenever man ceases to be a bundle tumacious nicknames by which he taunted the haughty nobility." They are evidence of the wanton wit and poignant pleasantry for which Gascony >va8 long famed. * These are collected in a considerable volume : " Recueil des pieces les plus curieuses qui ont dt<5 fait pendant la faveur du Connetable de Luynes, en 1G19, 1620, et 1621 " — 1623. They consist of prose and veree. — A compiler of modern history describes Luynes as " equally ignorant and presumptuous," in his unsuccessful attack of Montauban. He died of a fever in the camp. But a man may be « igno- rant and presumptuous," particularly if he fail in a great euterprise, yet the enter- prise itself may indicate no want of wisdom or courage. JtOYAL FAYOUKITES. 301 of sympathies, and tastes, and passions, some patriot king, in the apathy of his philosophy, may easily distinguish the rigid line which for ever separates friendship from favouritism. But till the day arrives of the perfectibility of man, we can only consider this advice as offered on the principle by which medical men usually warn their unhappy invalids — " to be careful not to eat heartily of what they like best." Kings, in their peculiar situation, must always remain uncer- tain whether they inspire the sympathy which some monarchs would rejoice to create. The throne for ever stands between the monarch and his friend. Unhappy sovereigns ! denied participating in the devotion of friendship and the adoration of love ! There can be no friendship where there is no equality ; and what female ever loved the object of her fear? Monarchs must descend from their throne to find a friend or a lover ; and it is only by their magnanimity in adversity that they can kindle the social affections in their companions. Charles the First possessed more devoted friends in the days of his sorrows than he ever found when on his throne. But a prince must have a Favourite, since he can have no friend ; and one of the greatest difficulties has been often acknow- ledged in supplying this want. A piece of secret history will show us the critical niceties of the providers of royal favourites. Once when the Marshal d^Ancre and his lady, in a secret con- ference with Mary of Medicis, had alarmed her on the growing favour which her son, the young Louis the Thirteenth, had bestowed on his companion De Luynes, it was resolved to remove the favourite from Court, and by renewed attention to the amuse- ments of the youthful monarch, prevent him from feeling his loss. When the plan was arranged, the Marshal suddenly observed that Sauveterre, the King's first valet, and usher of the Queen, stood at the door, and had probably overheard their State conversation. The Marshal, as an expedient, politically proposed to admit him to their councils; he was the friend of De Luynes. The Queen-Mother then confided to Sauveterre her inquietude at the ascendancy of his friend over her son; and that either her Majesty or the Favourite must retire. " In that extreme case," observed Sauveterre, " it is necessary that my friend should be sacrificed. — But, Madam/' he continued^ " when 302 ROYAL FAVOURITES. you have got rid of this favourite, have you thought of one to supply his place ? The King must have his companion ; and if his Majesty should choose one more enterprising and more elevated in rank, you may repent of having removed this man, of whose conduct you are more certain than of any successor/' This difficulty had not occurred to the D'Ancres : they were em- barrassed— they examined the merits of a great number; but, after long deliberation, they could fix on no person who was not objectionable; and at length it was agreed that they should leave De Luynes as the King's favourite, till they were able to find out the proper man for his substitute. The fears of the D'Ancres were not imaginary ; the Marshal, however, perished by the command of the favourite De Luynes, who acted under the auspices of the young King. The Italians were more odious to the French people. Even the Prince of Conde, father to the great Conde, oftered to assassinate the Florentine with his own hand. The greatest sovereigns, as well as the weakest, have ever required some partner in the state, to alleviate its burthens ; to inspire their hopes, and to guide their fortunes. Hence Wolsey, Leicester, and Bute, were the royal favourites of monarchs who cannot be classed among ordinary princes. But this class of favourites, as well as those of a more capricious choice, have excited the same unpardoning envy of the people, by their immense wealth and power. Sovereigns who flatter themselves that in a favourite they have found a friend, charmed even by this illusion of natural feeling, usually dispense their favours royally, destitute of all calculating arts; and Osborn, an old courtier, observes, with great knowledge of the royal character, " All the kings I have known were found to do more for their Favourites than they could be tempted to have done for them- selves." The favourites themselves are acted on by their locality; seduced by power, and corrupted by office, personal pride covers itself with titles as substitutes for ancestral nobility, and palaces are built by subjects. The public odium of private fortunes gathered from the common weal is attached to the favourite, and his tribes of relatives and friends who flocked at the call, are counted over till factions are formed, and sedition has often triumphed. ROYAL FAVOURITES. 303 This is the history of man as much as of Favourites. Man is a corruptible creature. Even patriotic statesmen have been disgraced by the passion of avarice, which with them is con- nected with the more elevated feeling of ambition. Sully, who may be distinguished as the friend rather than the favourite of his King, did not serve himself with less zeal than he served his country ; and this severe minister having amassed vast posses- sions, when he left his public station, retreated into a princely life. Clarendon in place, after that long abstinence from power, when he often wanted the price of a dinner, was as a famished man in office. He sullied his hands by the most ordinary cor- ruptions ; and there is every reason to believe, that a wider grasp built Clarendon House, which was better known under the more popular names of Dunkirk House, or Tangier Hall. In the history of Walpole, we must not omit Houghton and family sinecures. One of the great odiums cast on favourites, arises from what no disguise can conceal from the people^s view — the elevation of a whole family and its multitude of creatures. The people, as one of them observed in revolutionary times, need care little who are in administration, since whoever they are, still the people must work; but the great families in the state, thus thrown out of power, find it no difficult art to convince the discontented, that every public grievance may be traced to the prosperity of the favourite and his countless dependents. In our political history, we observe the alarm spread by party against the Hyde family,* and the Bute ministry.f * The bitterness of the wit of a lampoon on Lord Clarendon, which I recovered from its manuscript state, ^"ill show how a political family is treated by their con- temporaries. It turns on the family name of the Clarendons. When Queen Dido landed, she bought as much ground As the ITyde of a lusty fat bull would surround ; But when the said jEfyde was cut into thongs, A city and kingdom to Byde belongs ; So here in court, church, and country, far and wide, Here 's nought to be seen but Ifyde ! Hyde ! Hyde 1 Of old, and where law the kingdom divides, 'Twas our Hydes of Land, 'tis now Lmid of Hydes I t The caricatures relative to Lord Bute's favouritism and Scottish patronage have been collected into volumes, and they may be accompanied by shelves of libels and pasquinades, as well as by Churchill's satire. 804 ROYAL FAVOURITES. The case of the Duke of Lerma, the favourite of Philip III. of Spain, will illustrate this point in the history of royal Fa- vourites. On his entrance into power, this minister resolved that his nation, after the long struggle with the new republic, should repose in peace : he hastened a peace with England on the best conditions he could procure, and concluded a truce with Holland, which secured her independence. During an administration of twenty years, the pacific Favourite courted all classes. To conceal the embarrassed state of the finances, he amused his master with festivals, and instead of suppressing a vast number of useless offices, which the caprice of the pre- ceding reign had created, fearful of raising up enemies, he increased the evil, by making additional ones for his friends. His administration was a contrivance of expedients, and his perpetual hope lay in the galleons of Mexico, which have always kept down the national industry. The Duke of Lerma's mode of conducting affairs is curiously described by Sir Charles Cornwallis, our ambassador in Spain. The Duke deferred an appointment with him, till his return from the Escurial, which visit occupied the minister three or four months : " he deferred business in the winter, and absolutely hid himself from it in the summer." But this Favourite had his own Favourite ; and to supply his own mediocrity of genius, he had fixed on a man of active talents. The Duke was hated by the people ; not that any one com- plained of injustice or seventy in his lenient government, but the people could not forgive the pride with which he had received the King at his own house ! The favourite was cried down, calumniated, retired with disgrace, and even deprived of fortune, and his secretary lost his head. It was pretended that he had sacrificed the njitional glory to this system of tranquil- lising the world. His fall was so rapid as to appear sudden : — all the Lermates disappeared in a few days. At the fall of the Duke of Lerma, which occasioned so many removals from office, our James the First, expressing his asto- nishment, inquired the cause of his facetious friend Gondomar. That Cervantic Spaniard replied, by applying an apologue with his usual poignancy. To illustrate the fall of the Duke and his creatures, he told, how once two rats, having entered a palace. CHAKLES THE FIRST AFTER THE DEATH OF BUCKmGHAM. 305 were delighted at the spacious apartments, and the frequent banquets. They whisked about unmolested, every day seemed a festival, and they at last concluded that the palace was built for them. Their presence was not even suspected. But, grown bolder by custom, they called in shoals of rats and ratlings, and each filled his appointment. Some were at the larder, some in the dining-room, some here, and some there. The little rapa- cious creatures were a race of lascivious livers ; they dipped their whiskers in every dish, and nibbled at the choicest morsels. Not a department but had its rat. The people in the palace began now to cry out, that there were rats without number ; and having once made up their minds as to the fact, they LAID TRAPS FOR THEM, HERE AND THERE, AND CAST RATSBANE UP AND DOWN THE PALACE. CHAPTER XXIII. CHARLES THE FIRST AFTER THE DEATH OF BUCKINGHAM.— DISSOLUTION OF THE THIRD PARLIAMENT, 1629. The extraordinary manner in which Charles the First received the intelligence of the assassination of the favourite, has occa- sioned very opposite strictures from party-writers. Charles was at his morning service, when Sir Thomas Hip- pisley abruptly entering with an agitated countenance, whis- pered in the King's ear the portentous and overwhelming event. The King remained unmoved, and when the chaplain paused as the rumour spread through the presence-chamber, the King bidding him proceed, continued without interruption his devotions. The perfect composure of the King on this trying and sudden occasion, induced those courtiers, who study looks, and pre- sume they read countenances, to imagine that the death of the favourite was felt as a relief by the monarch — and some have even considered it as a striking evidence of his natural insensibility. It is, certainly, a very observable incident in the history of Charles the First, but connecting it with what followed, it isi VOL. I. X 806 CHARLES THE FIRST the most certain indication of this monarch's strength of char- acter. The imperturbable majesty of the mind of Charles the First never deserted him. But, as the character of no man has been viewed in such strong but opposite lights as that of this monarch, we find it sometimes difficult to discriminate his motives in his conduct. Perseverance and obstinacy, fortitude and insensibility, are terms which the predilections of parties apply to the same actions. The exterior fortitude of Charles on one of the most surpris- ing and awful events which had hitherto happened to him, was doubtless influenced by the sacredness of the moment in which it met him. Whether Charles were a martyr or not, certain it is, that in his religious soul he had the perfect devotion of one. But who can doubt that he felt the loss which an ordinary mind would have conceived irreparable ? Divine service closed, the King hurried to his chamber, and throwing himself on the bed, he passionately moaned, shedding abundant tears. The memory of the delightful intimate to whom he had entrusted all his thoughts, and the spirited servant on whom the hope of his glory rested, now a miserable corpse, disturbed his mind, and cast it into a deep melancholy, which lasted for many days. Had Clarendon not furnished this fact, the insensibility of the King might only have been known to us. The surprise of this most unexpected termination of the life of his minister, furnishes another evidence of the strength of character which I have frequently traced in Charles the First. Even his inconsolable grief was not sufi'ered to delay the expe- dition,— there was no indecision, no feebleness in Charles's con- duct. The King's personal industry astonished all in office; now, more was effected in six weeks, than in the Duke's time in six months. The death of Buckingham caused no changes, the King left every man to his own charge, but took the general direction into his own hands.* In private, Charles deeply mourned the loss of Buckingham ; he gave no encouragement to his enemies, the King called him " his martyr," and declared, that " the world was greatly mistaken in him, for it was thought that the favourite had ruled his Majesty ; but it was far other- • From MS. letters— Lord Dorset to the Earl of Carlisle. Sloane MSS. 4178. Letter 519. I AFTER THE DEATH OP BUCKINGHAM. 307 wise, for that the Duke had been to him a faithful and obedient servant." Such were the feelings and ideas of this unfortunate monarch, with which it is necessary to become acquainted before we judge of him as a man. All the foreign expeditions of Charles the First were alike disastrous. The vast genius of Richelieu ascending to its meridian, had paled our ineffectual star. The dreadful surrender of La Rochelle had sent back our army and navy baffled and disgraced. Buckingham had timely perished to be saved from the reproach of one more political crime. Such failures could not improve the temper of the times, but the most brilliant success would not probably have changed the fate of Charles the First, nor allayed the fiery spirits in the Commons. Parliament met. The King's speech was conciliatory. He acknowledged that the exaction of the duties of the Customs was not a right of his prerogative, but the gift of the people. He declared that he had as great an aversion to arbitrary power as themselves, and closed with a fervent ejaculation that the session begun with confidence, might end with a mutual good understanding. The King's speech, or, as Oldmixon calls it, " the King's fine speaking,^' was even received with a murmur of applause ; a circumstance so unusual, that it is alluded to in subsequent royal messages. The King, to urge the conclusion of his right to levy the Customs, observes, that if not granted, he should think that " his speech, which was with good applause accepted, had not that good effect which he expected.'^ The shade of Buckingham was no longer cast between Charles the First and the Commons; and yet we find that " their dread and dear sovereign " was not allowed any repose on the throne. A new demon of national discord, religion in a metaphysical garb, reared its distracted head. This evil spirit had been raised by the conduct of the Court divines, whose political sermons, with their attempts to return to the more solemn ceremonies of the Eoman Church, alarmed some tender consciences ; and in a panic of "Jesuits and Arminians" it served as a masked battery for the patriotic party to change their grounds at will, without slackening their fire. When the King urged for the duties of his Customs, he found that he was addressing a committee X 2 308 CHARLES THE FIRST sitting for religion! Sir John Eliot threw out a singular expression. Alluding to the bishops, whom he called " Masters of Ceremonies," he confessed that some ceremonies were com- mendable, such as standing iip together at the repetition of the creed, to testify our resolution to defend the religion we profess; and, he added, "in some churches they did not only stand upright, but with their swords drawn" His speech was a spark that fell into a well-laid train; it is difficult to conceive the wild enthusiasm of the House of Commons at that moment. They now entered into a vow to preserve the articles of religion estab- lished by Parliament in the thirteenth year of our late Queen Elizabeth ! And they rejected the sense of any doctrines not only of " the Jesuits and the Arminians," but of " all others wherein they differ from us." And this vow was immediately followed up by a petition to the King for ?ifast for the increasing miseries of the reformed Churches abroad. Parliaments are liable to have their passions ! On the state of the Reformed abroad, the King answered, " that fighting would do them more good than fasting ;" he did not disapprove of the latter, but as he appears to have been always anxious to explain his intention, he added a note that these fasts were not to be so frequent. During their fast they probably conned over their declaration that Tonnage and Poundage must yield precedency to religion ! Still the King was patient ; he confessed that " he did not think religion was in so much danger as they affirmed ; " but as the levying the Customs was occasioning great violence between his officers and those who, referring to the Parliamentary debates, disputed the King's right to levy them, Charles wished for its conclusion, " not so much out of the greediness of the thing, as out of a desire to put an end to those questions which had arisen between me and some of my subjects." Never had the King urged less arbitrary claims, never had he used a more subdued style, but never had the Commons raged with a fiercer spirit, since they had sat in their theological synod. In the orgasm of that conventicle spirit which, many years after, was to disgrace our annals, the House of Commons resolved, that " the business of the King of this Earth should give place to the business of the King of Heaven I " What ' AFTER THE DEATH OF BUCEmGHAM. 309 new style was tliis ? Whose tones pierced the roof of the Commons ? Whose voice is speaking ? A young man, as yet unknown to Fame — Oliver Cromwell ! He sat in a saintly committee denouncing those divines, who, as he expressed it, " preached flat Popery." " It is amusing," writes the philoso- phical historian, " to observe the first words of this fanatical hypocrite correspond so exactly to his character." Francis Rous, afterwards a creature of CromwelFs, and Speaker of Barebone's Parliament, whose writings were collected and " dedicated to the Saints, and to the Excellent throughout the three nations," was frequently a leading spirit in this new feud; he excelled in adapting his fanatical eloquence to earthly objects. On the Custom-house duties he observed, ''it is an old trick of the DeviFs when he meant to take away Job^s religion, to begin at his goods ; ' lay thy hand on what he hath, and he will curse thee to thy face.'" On religion, he said, "when lower natures are backed by higher, they increase in courage and strength ; if man be backed with Omnipotency, he is a kind of omnipotent creature j all things are possible to him that believeth, and where all things are possible, there is a kind of omnipotency." Thus long before the nation was maddened, the madmen existed who were to make them so. One" Lewis, out of the House, having exclaimed, "the Devil take the Parliament," was summoned before the Saints, and the Devil's good-wisher had to answer for his seditious language. So far from any anxiety to terminate the troubles of the Sovereign and the People, the Commons now insisted that Charles should give up the receivers of the Customs as capital enemies to the King and the kingdom, and that those persons who submitted to pay their duties, should be denounced guilty as accessaries. Often have Kings been tyrannical, and sometimes have Par- liaments ; a body corporate, with the infection of passion, may perform acts of injustice equally with the individual who abuses the power with which he is invested. In separating the King from his officers, the Commons pre- tended to hold the King blameless; but Charles evinced, at least, his sincerity, or, as was expressed in his message, "his justice and honour," when he would not consent to sacrifice his 310 DISSOLUTION OP THE THIRD PARLIAMENT. own servants. The same principle was at work with the Oppo- sition members, which had instigated them against the late minister ; the officers of the Customs were now the representa- tives of Buckingham, these were the ostensible objects of attack, the concealed one was the Sovereign. The Custom-house and the Church alternately served their purpose. The sole object of the Government was to settle the legal levy of the duties, which required but a formal confirmation ; but tlie Commons, sensible that this once granted, might terminate their sittings, were willing to agitate any subject, terrestrial or celestial, but tonnage and poundage. Sir John Eliot, one part of whose eloquence certainly con- sisted in the most stinging personalities, was pouring forth invectives against some courtiers — Neile, the Bishop of Win- chester, and the Lord Treasurer, Weston. " Buckingham is dead, but he revives in the two chiefs, Neile and Weston, who are animated with the same spirit, and tread in the same steps, and who, he declared, for fear would break Parliaments, lest Parliaments should break them." He was sometimes inter- rupted, and sometimes cheered. The timid Speaker refusing to put the question, declaring that "he was otherwise com- manded from the King," suffered a severe reprimand from Selden. " If you will not put it we must sit still, thus we shall never be able to do any thing." The House adjourned in great heat. This was the dark prognostic of their next meeting, on Monday the second of March, 1629, which Sir Symonds d^Ewes has marked in his diary, as " the most gloomy, sad, and dismal day for England that happened for five hundi'cd years. On this fatal day, the Speaker still refusing to put the ques- tion, and announcing the King's command for an adjournment (an intermediate one had already occurred), Sir John Eliot stood up. The Speaker attempted to leave the chair, but two members placed themselves on each side, and forcibly kept him down. Eliot, who had prepared certain resolutions, flung down a paper on the floor, crying out that it might be read ! His party vociferated for the reading ; others that it should not. A sudden tumult broke out. Coriton, an ardent patriot, struck another member, and many laid their hands on their swords. It was imagined, out of doors, that swords had actually been DISSOLUTION OF THE THIRD PARLIAMENT. 311 drawn, for a "Welsh page, running in great haste when he heard the noise, cried to the door-keeper, " I pray you let hur in ! let hur in ! to give hur master his sword." — " Shall we," said one, " be sent home as we were last sessions, turned off like scattered sheep?" The weeping, trembling Speaker still persisting, was dragged to and fro by opposite parties ; the Clerk of the Com- mons was not less inflexible in not reading the paper of Sir John Eliot. Sir John Finch, the unfortunate Speaker, with a poverty of spirit, filled a situation as critical as it was elevated. He heard himself bitterly reproached by his kinsman, Sir Peter Hayman, whose name the reader may recollect, '^as the disgrace of his country, the blot of a noble family, and whom posterity will remember with scorn and disdain." Hard fate of weak men, who on some emergency are called out to act a part above their natures, and want even the dignity which might save them from contempt ! Eliot, finding the House so strongly divided, undauntedly snatching up the paper, said, " I shall then express that by my tongue which this paper should have done." Denzil Holies assumed the character of Speaker, putting the question, which was returned by the acclamations of the party. The doors were locked, and the keys laid on the table. The King sent the Ser- jeant to bring away the mace, but the royal messenger could obtain no admission : the Usher of the Black Rod met no more regard. The King then ordered the Captain of his Guard to force an entrance ; that incident, however, was not to happen till several years after. The resolutions concerning Papistry and Poundage had passed before the guard appeared ; — the door was flung open, the rush of the members was a torrent, and many were struck with horror at the conflicting scene they had witnessed. It was a sad image of the future. The King, on dissolving this Parliament, gives us at least his idea of it. " It is far from me to judge all the House alike guilty, for there are there as dutiful subjects as any in the world ; it being but some few vipers among them that did cast this mist of undutifulness over most of their eyes." At the time, many undoubtedly considered that a mere faction was formed among the Commons. Sir Symonds d^Ewes was no politician, but unquestionably his ideas were not peculiar to 312 DISSOLUTION OF THE THIRD PARLIAMENT. himself. He discriminates this last third Parliament, "the greater part of the House were morally honest men, who were the least guilty of the fatal breach, being only misled by some other Machiavelian politics j who seemed zealous for the liberty of the Commonwealth J and by that means, at the moving of their outward freedom, drew the votes of those good men on their side." In the sudden dissolution of this Parliament, the Lord-Keeper in the accustomed form, addressed the House of Commons, though they had not been summoned, nor was the Speaker pre- sent. It is said, that the King, in disrobing himself, declared, that " he would never put on those robes again." The conduct of Charles the First through this last Parlia- ment is now before us. Conceding the great constitutional points, and even professing an abhorrence of arbitrary measures, his latter speech extorted a murmur of applause ; his conduct had varied in its progress; a strange monster of discord grappled with the Sovereign in the even path, and in the mind of Charles he recognised the spawn of faction. Now Laud was to be sub- stituted for Buckingham — religion for government. Patient, till patience ceased to be a virtue, after many struggles with himself, we see the King more and more irritated. Anger and despair closed the Parliament — perhaps for ever ! To Charles the First, the menacing language and the tumul- tuous acts of the great leaders, appeared seditious. He declared, that " they designed his ruin." Ten of the most eminent members were summoned to the council-table, among whom were Denzil Holies, Sir John Eliot, and Selden — illustrious names I They were now placed in the cruel predicament of contending for their Parliamentary rights against the wounded feelings of the Sovereign, and the judicial decisions of the legislature. It raised up one of the greatest and the longest legal controversies which had been started for many years. Charles the First was strongly aflPectcd when he heard that Holies had been so deeply implicated in seconding the resolu- tions which Eliot had prepared. The Monarch exclaimed, " Et tu Brute ! I wonder at it ! for we two were fellow-revellers in a masque together."* We see by this pathetic exclamation, how * Hamon I'Estrangc, 82 fo. DISSOLUTION OF THE THIED TARLIAMENT. 313 Charles the First could not avoid blending his personal feelings with the Parliamentary opposition ; the King, indeed, appears to have had a personal knowledge of most of the great leaders of the present party ; a circumstance of some importance which has not been noticed by historians. At the council-table Holies declared that he came to the House with zeal for his Majesty's service, but finding his Majesty was offended with him, he humbly desired that he might rather be the subject of his mercy than of his power. On this the Lord-Treasurer observed, "You mean, rather of his Majesty's mercy than of his justice'^ Holies repeated, " I say of his Majesty's power, my Lord." Sir John Eliot questioned for words spoken in the House, and for producing the last offen- sive resolutions, with his accustomed keenness of language de- clared, " that whatsoever was performed by him in that place and at that time, as a member of that House, he would ever be ready to give an account of his sayings and doings in that place whenever he should be called to it by the House. But now, as a private man, he could not trouble himself to remember what he said or did in that place as a public man." Charles the First, to vindicate his outraged sovereignty, would have limited his iitmost severity to " a petition expressing their sorrow that he was offended with them ; " but these were not men, like children, to be frightened or to be soothed by a weak parent. They courted the persecution, which with the people only served the more to maintain the principles for which they suffered. The patriots, obstinately contumacious, were com- mitted to different prisons. Charles the First, in his own mind, could only perceive their contumacy— it is only ourselves who now can admire their patriotism. The King sought to punish sedition ; but in a con- ference he himself held with his judges, they decided that the offences were not capital, the prisoners might be bailed, giving security for their good behaviour. The acknowledgment of Charles, though this decision was not to his mind, enters into his character. "I shall never be offended with my judges if they deal plainly with me, and do not answer by oracles and riddles." Such a sentiment evinces no resolute tyranny in this monarch. 314 DISSOLUTION OF THE THIRD PARLIAMENT. The parties were ready with their bail, but they would give no security for their good behaviour. Selden raised liis acute legal objections, and one of the members observed, that " the good behaviour was a ticklish point." What was " good be- haviour? " Was it passive obedience ? He preferred to return to prison than to accept a condition of which he did not know the nature. All were alike resolute in the refusal of any act of submission, and in the denial of the jurisdiction of any inferior court over Parliament. The judges, who had hitherto acted rightly, it was thought wrested the law now to the monarch's side, by decreeing heavy fines and imprisonment during the King's pleasure. Arbitrary imprisonments, even in state affairs, are so abhor- hent to Englishmen, that this act of severity on the side of Charles the First, has been alleged as a striking evidence of his disposition to tyranny. When we calmly look into the motives of the King — the state of the times — the as yet undefined rights of the liberty of the subject — the prevalent custom in European governments of imprisoning supposed state delinquents, and the extraordinary scenes which were passing in France, where the sacrifice of a few political victims, the heads of factions, had saved the feeble monarch on a throne surrounded by conspira- cies, when all these are considered, the severity of Charles the First will not appear with that dark and peculiar complexion, which a modem pencil might deeply colour. Charles had first intended to inflict the lenient penalty of a slight act of submis- sion ; but it was as impossible for the patriots to commit an act of submission, as for the monarch to be passive under his contemned sovereignty. To allay the prevalent terror that the nation was now to be deprived of its Parliaments, Charles the First published " a de- claration of the causes which moved him to dissolve this last Parliament." His tone is not arrogant — he gives an historical account of all their proceedings — their scanty subsidies — their persecutions on tonnage and poundage — their exorbitant en- croachments— he reproaches those perturbators of the public peace, who have all along disturbed the harmony between him and the people — " like empirics, who choose to have some dis- eases on foot to keep themselves in request, and to be employed THE FIRST PATRIOTS. 315 in the cure/' And lastly, the King appeals to the subject, whether, " in respect of the free passage of the gospel, in equal administration of justice, freedom from oppression, and the peace and quietness every one enjoys under his own vine and fig-tree, the happiness of this nation can be paralleled by any neighbouring countries ?'' Had there been no truth in this appeal to the people, it would have been the most unskilful one possible. So destitute was the Sovereign now of means to pursue any foreign expedition, that after the fall of La Rochelle, when the Duke of Rohan implored his farther aid, Charles the First declared, that compelled to dissolve the Parliament, from whom he had expected farther supplies, he was no longer in a con- dition to assist the necessities of the foreign Protestants. The Parliament, in the result of their proceedings, had, doubtless contrary to their intentions, ably served the cause of France and Spain, with whom the King had to accede to an inglorious peace, after having waged a disastrous war. An English sove- reign was now to reign deprived of his Parliament ! CHAPTER XXIV. THE FIRST PATRIOTS. Swift, in the spirit of his cynical philosophy, once drew up a catalogue of the great and little actions of some singular and renowned persons; and among the manuscripts of Bishop Kennett, I found a curious list of the infirmities of the best men in sacred wrii. Moses was passionate, Abraham lied, Aaron was idolatrous, Samson was a woman's slave, and the incredulity of Thomas, the persecutions of Paul, and the denial of Peter, enforced this extraordinary result of the infirmities of men, who, we might suppose, would have been exempt from ordinary weaknesses. May we not therefore be forgiven, if we sometimes start at the tales of those romantic patriots, who, pure and exalted above the sphere of human passions, and often performing incredible or incomprehensible actions, so prodigally adorn the histories 316 THE FIRST PATRIOTS. of the poetical Greeks, and the declamatory Romans ! * Our own age, among the annals of patriotism, can only boast of a single patriotic character, the grandeur of whose mind was circumscribed by his civic duties : the ambition of Washington terminated in the emancipation of his country. It would be delightful to trace patriotism in all its integrity, pursuing the noblest ends by the most irreproachable means — but too rare indeed are those great characters, who having opened the first scenes of political revolutions, have escaped the imputation of indulging their personal vanity, their private interest, or their boundless ambition. We, who are feeling about for truth in the darkness of time, too often discover that secret history forms a contrast with the ideal greatness of our general views ; and it is only the philo- sophical writer who can detect those indiscriminate opinions of men, and the affairs of men, which crowd the history of human nature with phantoms and delusions. Imperfect humanity claims our indulgence ; and while we are often educing good from evil, we may surmise that it may require the leaven of personal motives to ferment some minds into patriotism. And if we be often compelled to explore into an origin more obscure and far less pure, than such elevated motives seem to promise, shall we not remain satisfied, if, after tracing the stream back to its head, we behold it purifying itself as it flows, and enlarging its boundaries till even Self seems forgotten in the pubhc cause ? We gladly accept the popular virtue, while we forget the private passion. Cardinal de Retz is accused of indulging an unbounded am- bition, yet in his own memoirs, though he frankly condemns many of his actions, he solemnly asserts, that in whatever regarded his political conduct, he was actuated by the noblest principles; nor is this impulse incompatible even with the indulgence of his ambition. * The learned Niebuhr has elaborately explored into the fabulous history of the Romans ; he has been preceded by M. Beaufort, an ingenious writer, in his " Incer- titude des cinq premiers Siecles de I'historie Romaine ;" but the Abbate Lancelloti, in his " Farfalloni degli Antichi Historici," would have had the merit of having first hostilely entered into this sacred land of imposture, had the dignity of genius sus- tained the erudition of the writer of " The Fiim-Flams of Antiquity." THE FIRST PATRIOTS. 317 There are still persons, it seems, wlio will deny that the infirmities of our nature are discoverable in some of the early Reformers both at home and abroad;* and some, assuredly there are, who will not pardon us on any terms, when we assert that the popular leaders in the House of Commons, those great names in our history which posterity has invested with the purest of all national titles, that of Patriot, may lie open to the same accusation. The good, indeed, has survived the evil, and that is sufficient to carry on the great ends of society ; the heat and fury of the Reformation emancipated the human mind, and the factions of our early patriots, in many respects, laid the foundations of our popular Constitution. The only dangerous error, is the supposition that some men are more immaculate than our infirm passions can possibly permit, and that others were as criminal as they are made to be, for the purposes of party. If even the great and good qualities of Pisistratus disguised his love of arbitrary power ; if the secret motive of the French princes espousing the cause of the Huguenots have been traced to their own quarrel at Court ; if Gibbon have thrown a shade of suspicion even over Brutus^s " Godlike stroke ; " if the assassin of Buckingham were a penitent and not a patriot ; if even the patriotism of that great prince, Maurice of Orange, whom the people venerated as the hero who had rescued them from the Spanish tyranny, were stigmatised by the republican Barnevelt, as a cloak to his ambition ; if the immortal Bacon, and the illustrious Clarendon, cannot escape from the taint of the meaner passions ; and if that oracle of law, the great Coke, were of one mind as a judge, when in favour at "Whitehall, and of another when discontented, he was a patriot at Westminster ; we may, perhaps, feel more assured that it may serve both as matter of curiosity and instruction to open the more secret and complicate motives of the great actors in our history. Nothing is more wanting in the history of this period, than * Mr. Wilberforce has condemned the historian Robertson for his phlegmatic philosophy in composing the history of the Reformation, with an indifference incre- dible in a divine, &c. &c. Surely it is not necessary at this day to write with all the heat of the times, caught from passions transient as the events which kindled them. These can no longer be suffered to associate with the dignity of truth. 318 THE FIRST PATRIOTS. the personal memoirs of some of the leaders in the Opposition.* Such were Sir John Eliot, Dr. Turner, Sir Dudley Digges, Sir Arthur Haslerigg, Lord Say and Sele, St. John, Hampden, and Pym. Of these remarkable men, we know little but their Par- liamentary history; something, however, we may glean from closer researches, and, perhaps, sufficient to serve us in these speculations on human nature.* On the patriotic party rising in the House of Commons, Charles the First acutely observed, that " it seemed to him that their aim was not so much against the abuses of power, as against power itself." To the King, the Oppositionists in the Commons seemed at times meditating insurrection ; and the first race of our Patriots appeared to Charles the First, as the leaders of a faction conspiring to sacrifice the Sovereign, by casting him on an indigent throne. When long after the monarch finally assembled the memorable " Long Parliament,'' and the second race of our Patriots arose, the same opinion pro- bably with him lost nothing of its conviction. Among the most eminent and the earliest of our patriots, and one who was, perhaps, the victim of his exertions, was Sir John Eliot, a Cornish gentleman, Vice-Admiral of Devon. His extraordinary and unrelenting conduct in his prosecution of the minister whom he fastened on, as his solitary prey, with a ter- rible enmity which nothing could satiate short of life ; his vehe- ment eloquence, his gorgeous declamation, touched by such a hardiness of personal invective, and flowing with such embittered feelings, often induced me to suspect that the patriotism of this Junius of another age, was unhappily connected with an anti- pathy to the individual. There was too large a proportion of personal rancour in Sir John Eliot's warm temper ; to say the least of it, it did not yield to the abundance of the patriotic spirit. A genius so commanding and so turbulent, was fitted to be the leader of a party, or the creator of one. Sir John Eliot, we find, had early in life been the intimate companion of * Hobbes has not hesitated to say, that they " were persons as had a great opinion of their own sufficiency in politics, which they thought was not sufficiently talicn notice of by the King." — Behemoth, p. 482, Masere's Ed. The ideas of a great con- temporary have always something to be attended to. THE FIRST PATRIOTS. 319 Buckingham; they had been fellow-travellers, and on the Duke^s rise Eliot appears to have shared his favours. His appointment as Vice-Admiral of Devonshire connects itself with the patronage of the Lord High-Admiral of England, as does his knighthood, in 1618, with Buckingham's rapidly rising fortune. Eliot appears to have been at all times of a temper hot and irascible. He had a quarrel with his neighbour, Mr. Moyle, and in the hour of a friendly visit, with wine before them, Eliot " treacherously '^ stabbed him. On this barbarous irruption of passion, Eliot hastened to London to secure the protection of Buckingham. A heavy fine commuted the criminal oftence. When news arrived of the recovery of Moyle, Eliot applied to the Duke for the remission of his fine, but in the impoverished Exchequer of that day, a fine once paid was never recoverable from the gulph; besides, the crime, though ineff'ectual, had been committed. The only favour Eliot could obtain was a knighthood.* In a letter of Sir John Eliot's to the Duke, so late as towards the close of 1623, there runs a strain of humble intercession, which strangely contrasts with that lofty spirit, and that per- sonal indignation, with which Eliot shortly afterwards assailed * Such is the tale recorded by Echard, as related by Dean Prideaux, who was a grandson of Mr. Moyle. Another statement has been recently produced from a Cornish gentleman, who, in a letter written in 1767, relates his recollections of the story as it had been told him by a daughter of Mr. Moyle. In the stabbing, and the subsequent flight, both accounts agree ; but the letter would seem to fix the event at a period when Buckingham was not in a situation to afford Eliot protection. It is not impossible, however, that the two accounts may be compatible ; for, at a later period, when Buckingham had attained power, Eliot might have sought, through his favour, the remittance of the inflicted fine, and was gratified by the knighthood. A letter written one hundred and sixty years after the transaction, the uncertain recollections of two octogenarians, cannot be weighed against a narrative thrice published in the lifetime of Dean Prideaux. Whether this ebullition of the irascible Ehot be aggravated by Echard, or softened down to the impetuosity of youth, signifies little in the development of the constitutional temper of the individual. Of the peni- tence of Eliot, and of the renewal of the ancient friendship of the two families, the evidence exists among the Eliot Papers ; but it is equally evident, that the Moyles did not forget what they had forgiven ; the tale still went on from the sufferer to his relatives ; for the grandson told it to Echard, as the daughter did, in her old age, to her Cornish neighbour. — Miss Aikin's Memoirs of the Court of Charles the First, i, 265. Forster's Life of Sir John Eliot.— (See Appendix for EUot's penitential confession.) 320 THE FIRST PATRIOTS. his late friend and patron. This letter is important ; it is evi- dence that Sir John Eliot had then " suffered a long imprison- ment and great charge." Sir John declares that " he had served his Grace with all affection/' and had "preserved the rights and liberties of the Duke, though with the loss of his own." * All this obviously alludes to his official character as Vice-Ad- miral, and as Chairman of the Committee of Stannaries, of which he has left a manuscript report. Sir John, therefore, " humbly craves his Grace's favour," which he appears to have forfeited ; for he complains that some former letters addressed to the minister had remained unnoticed. The cause of his inveterate quarrel with Buckingham, though yet not distinctly known, would seem by this letter to have originated in the performance, or the transgression of some of his official duties.f Eliot unquestionably was of a fiery temperament — it had cast him into a most disgraceful predicament with the Moyles, and now we discover him in prison in 1623. The circumstance of being imprisoned, and of his letters remaining unanswered by him whose "rights" he had protected, display the most callous ingratitude, or the most absolute disavowal of Eliot's proceedings, whatever they might have been.J I discovered among the Eliot papers that there was a suit pending, and accorapts unsettled on the death of Buckingham, between " my Lord Admiral " and Sir John. There I found also a letter of Selden from the Temple, dated November, 1628, relating to "a patent of Sir John's, delivered to him in a box," for the purpose of Selden's examination, whether the death of the grantor made it void. Evidently this grantor was Buckingham, who had fallen two months before. The patriotic ardour which marks the character of Eliot, visited him like a sudden inspiration ; and when he discovered that " that man," as he persisted in contemptuously designating the Minister, was "the Sejanus of England," and closely paral- • Cabala, p. 412. + I am not acquainted with the exact nature of this office of Vice-Admiral ; however, by a passage in a letter of Denzil Holies to Sir Thomas Wentworth, it is clear that he levied some fees for himself, as well as the Lord High Admiral. " By that time my Lord Admiral and his Vice-Admirals be satisfied, and all other rights and wrongs be discharged, a slender gleaning is left for tlie taker." Holies alludes to tlie wrecks on the coast. — Strafford' a Letters, i. 40. % Rushwortli, i. 213. I THE FIRST PATRIOTS. 321 leled him with one of the most profligate of royal favourites, in comparing him with the Bishop of Ely, in Richard the First's time — when he impeached the Minister as " the canker of the Kmg's treasure/' and " the moth of all goodness in the State " — all this was a political revolution, which did not happen till two years after he had been a suppliant to this very Minister. The commencement of Sir John Eliot's purer patriotism is obscure ; that ambiguous point where personal malignity ceased, as public spirit broke out ; but till we are satisfied on this head, we must still believe that the revolutionary genius has frequently dis- guised its private passions by its public conduct.* Sir John Eliot was a patriot who stood foremost in the ranks of Opposition. Wentworth, afterwards the famous Earl of Strafford, opened his political life under the banner of that party; but whether either of these great leaders were too haughty to follow the other, or whether Wentworth disdained the violence and turbulence of Eliot, their opinions frequently clashed, and they aimed at each other such keen retorts, that their emulation, if it ever were emulation, terminated in per- sonal antipathy. In the House, these leaders of party were both first-rates, and it is curious to observe how minds of such calibre can exercise themselves with equal force in mutual depreciation, till, in the illusion of their jealousy, they persuade themselves that they really feel that contempt for each other which their style infers. Wentworth, alluding to his old rival, then no more, degrades him into " a phantastic apparition ; '' had EHot lived, Strafford would have found the " apparition " as substantial a foe as the one he afterwards witnessed in that political Elisha, Pym, who had caught up the inspiring mantle of the departed. When Wentworth of the North betrayed symptoms of wavering indecision, and when at length "the northern cock was picked out to be the King's creature," by the Lord Treasurer Weston, Hacket tells us, that " it was the * Mr. Forster, in his Life of Sir Jolin Eliot, written with considerable care, has noticed the silence of Eliot respecting the Duke of Buckingham in the Parhament of February, 1623, "when the lauded name of the Duke was frequently on the lips of other popular members," as evidence that Eliot was not a subserver to the Duke; I regard it as evidence that the mind of Eliot was then rankUng on the supposed injury which he complains of in the November before. VOL. I. Y 322 THE FIRST PATKIOTS. general opinion of the times," that Eliot, irascible at the choic6 of his rival, avenged himself on the King in the bill of Tonnage and Poundage; falling on the Treasurer, and declaring with his accustomed petulance, since Buckingham was no more, that the Lord Treasurer was " the author of all the evils which oppressed the kingdom." Weston, however, had not been six months in office, but he appears to have dreaded his redoubtable adversary. Bishop Williams, who had then his spies abroad, in order to still the quaking statesman, and make his own court, proffered, in many private conferences, " to bring Sir John Eliot to be reconciled to him and rest his servant." Hacket, to whom Williams imparted this manoeuvring, adds, that Wentworth never forgave our intriguing Bishop for having offered to bring over his rival.* Mr. Hallam catches fire at the degrading insinuation. " The magnanimous fortitude of Eliot forbids us to give credit to any surmise unfavourable to his glory upon such indifferent authority ; but several passages in Wentworth^s letters to Laud show his malice towards one who had perished in the great cause which he had sobasely forsaken." f This remai'k requires some animadversion. At this time there was much tampering with the patriotic party, and several of the great leaders were gained over by the court. Williams might have offered to do that, in respect to Eliot, which he could not have effected. Eliot had gone too far ever to return ; and the King could never have endured the presence of one who had become personally offensive to him. The statement of Bishop Williams is after his own manner ; unquestionably he was long and secretly connected with the patriotic party, and what he tells of a rivaVs anger in Wentworth, is a strong confirmation of this political project, for we are now perfectly acquainted with Wentworth's personal dislike to Eliot. Mr. Ilallam has justly ascribed to Eliot "magnanimity of fortitude." The story of the last sad hours of his imprisonment and his life have not yet been disclosed to the world. His ardent spirit remained unbroken — though it waxed " faint and feeble," as he himself pathetically expressed it. The last imprisonment of Eliot for his conduct in Parliament * Scrinia Reserata, partii, 82. f Ilallam's Constitutional Histoiy, i. 498. I THE FIRST PATRIOTS. 323 was in 1 629, when he was condemned to be imprisoned during the King's pleasure, and fined in two thousand pounds. On this occasion, he sent an upholsterer to the Tower, " to trim up con- venient lodgings,^' convinced that his visit would be no short one. Concerning his fine, he said, that '^ He had two cloaks, two suits, two pair of boots, and gallashees, and a few books, and that was all his personal substance, and if they could pick up two thousand pounds out of that, much good might it do them." He added, that "when he had first been a close pri- soner in the Tower, a commission was directed to the High Sheriff of Cornwall, and five other commissioners, his capital enemies, to inquire into his lands and goods, and to seize upon them for the King, but they returned a nihil." * It appears that he had conveyed his estates to trustees for the use of his sons. In January 1631-2, 1 find Sir John Eliot removed into a new lodging (in the Tower), and that his lawyer assured Pory the letter- writer, that he had found Sir John " the same cheerful healthful undaunted man than ever." Sir John's lawyer appears to have had too much at heart the glory of the patriotic champion in the person of his client, to have perceived what Eliot's physicians reported in the October of that year, that " he could never recover of his consumption, unless he might breathe purer air." Lord Chief Justice Eichardson, in reply, observed, that " Though Sir John was brought low in body, yet was he as high and lofty in mind as ever ; for he would neither submit to the King, nor the justice of that Court." The Bench recommended Sir John to petition his Majesty. The mode of Sir John Eliot's proceedings were told by Lord Cottington to a friend of the present letter-writer. Sir John first presented a petition to the King by the hand of the Lieu^ tenant of the Tower, to this effect : — " Sir, your judges have committed me to prison in the Tower of London, where by reason of the quality of the air, I am fallen into a dangerous disease. I humbly beseech your Majesty will command your judges to set me at liberty, that for recovery of my health I may take some fresh air." His Majest/s answer was — " It was not * Harleian MSB. 7000. Y 2 324 THE FIRST PATRIOTS. humble enough." Sir John then prepared another petition to be presented by his son — " Sir, I am certainly sorry to have displeased your Majesty, and having so said, do humbly beseech you once again to command your judges to set me at liberty, that when I have recovered my health, I may return back to my prison, there to undergo such punishment as God hath allotted unto me." On this the Lieutenant came and expostulated with Sir John, insisting that it belonged to his office, and was com- mon to no man else, to deliver petitions for his prisoners ; and if Sir John, in a third petition, would humble himself to his Majesty in acknowledging his fault, and craving pardon, he would willingly deliver it, and made no doubt that he should obtain his liberty. To this Eliot answered, " I thank you, sir, for your friendly advice, but my spirits are grown feeble and faint, which, when it please God to restore to their former vigour, I will take it farther into my consideration." In the next month Eliot was no more. He died in the Tower on the 27th of November, 1632.* His son petitioned the King that he would permit the body of his ill-fated father to be con- veyed to Cornwall, but the King^s answer, written at the foot of the petition was, " Let Sir John Eliot^s body be buried in the church of that parish where he died." He was buried in the chapel of the Tower. Thus it appears that this uncompromising spirit perished in a prison from a haughty delicacy on his side at the punctilious interference of the official man, who probably felt little sympathy for his illustrious prisoner, and who appears to have aimed at humiliating the elevated mind of the Patriot by reiterated humble petitions. The severity which the King exercised against Eliot, is very particular. Charles the First, often hasty and austere, from his temperament, has been accused of deficient tenderness in his nature by certain party- writers ; their object is to represent Charles the First as a heartless tyrant ; but the facts which they have attempted to allege, are so trivial and nugatory, that they are become rather the testi- monies of their own cruelty, than of his. The harshness of Charles the First towards Eliot, to me indicates a cause of ojBfence, • Anthony Wood erroneously conjectured that he died about 1 629. I THE FIRST PATRIOTS. S25. either of a deeper dye, or of a more personal nature, than, per- haps, we have yet discovered.* The implication of the King's connivance with Buckingliam, in the affair of the plaister and potion given to James the First, as, I think, was so understood at the time, when Ehot abruptly broke off with an invidious quotation from Cicero, in a like case, " which he feared to speak and feared to think,^' was not likely ever to be forgotten by the King. Charles asserted, that in comparing Buckingham to Sejanus, Eliot, by implication, must mean that he was Tiberius. The idea which Charles the First entertained of Eliot, we may perhaps learn from another circumstance. On the dissolu- tion of the third Parliament,t which broke up in a tumult, and which cast the public mind into a violent ferment, a proclama- tion was issued against " the spreaders of false rumours,^' in which we find this remarkable passage : " As if the scandalous and seditious proposition in the House of Commons, made by an outlawed man^ desperate in mind and fortune y had been the vote of the whole House." Who can this man be, so forcibly desig- nated, but Sir John Eliot, whom we have seen at that eventful moment prepared with those propositions which were carried in a tumult ? Eushworth, who in giving this proclamation, has cautiously omitted this personal stroke, no doubt well knew its object ; and it is one instance of many, where the Clerk of the House of Commons has been too tender of the feelings of his contemporaries and his masters, who had then passed a con- siderable vote to honour the memory of Sir John Eliot, and to remunerate the losses of his family. J * These particulars of the death of Sir John Eliot I have drawn from manuscript letters in the Harleian collection, 7000. At Port Eliot there is an interesting portrait of Sir John EUot, bearing the melancholy inscription that it was 'painted a few days before his death in the Tower : it betrays the last stage of atrophy or consumption. He is painted in a very elegant morning-dress, ornamented with lace, holding in his hand a comb ; the picture, though somewhat hard, has a great appearance of truth, and sadly contrasts with another portrait also at Port Eliot, taken at a very difiFerent period of life. The contraction of the pallid face, placed by the side of the broad and florid countenance of his early manhood, offers a very striking and pathetic image of mortality. I owe the sight of these two portraits, and of the correspon- dence of Sir John Eliot, which I give in an Appendix, to the liberal kindness of Lord Eliot (now Earl of St. Germains), who takes a deep interest in the history of his illustrious ancestor. + 1629. X Rushworth gives the passage, ii. 3. « As if the scandalous and seditious propo- 526 THE FIRST TATIIIOTS. As the judges on that occasion particularised Eliot as tlie " greatest offender and the ringleader," and sentenced him to a far heavier fine than Holies and Valentine, with unlimited im- prisonment, " this man, desperate in mind and fortune," could only have been himself ! Such, then, was the King's conception of him. During his long imprisonment in the Tower, Sir John Eliot found, as other impetuous spirits have, that wisdom and philo- sophy have hidden themselves behind the bars of a prison window ; there, his passions weaker, and his contemplation more profound, he nobly employed himself on an elaborate treatise on ^'The Monarchy of Man." * The active supporter of Eliot was the perturbed Dr. Turner, member for Shrewsbury, whom Wotton calls "a travelled doctor of physick, of bold spirit and of able elocution, returned one of the burghesses, which was not ordinary in any of his coat." He appears to have been elected for his hardy activity. I dis- covered that he was one, as he himself declared, of an association who had agreed to disperse themselves through the country, ta exert all their influence to thwart the measures of Government; announcing, by inflammatory letters, that " The day was fast approaching when such work was to be wrought in England, as never was the like, which will be for our good." So presciently some of this party viewed the scenes which, fifteen years after- wards, opened on the nation. If we incline to admire this perambulating patriotism, and pass by, without ridicule, theso pohticians on posthorses, we must own that the motive dwindles considerably in our esteem, when we learn that the said Dr. Turner had long haunted the Court, but had been con- temptuously treated by the King, for his deficient veracity. We confess that we little value the patriot made out of a discarded sition in the House of Commons had been the vote of the whole House." It is in Rymer's Foedera, xix. 62, that we recover the suppressed passage. Sir John Eliot was harassed by many years of frequent imprisonments and fines, and not always, as we see, for political objects. The House of Commons voted 5000/. for a com- pensation to the family for his *' sufferings ;" they also voted another 2000^., part of four, which his son had been fined by the Court of Wards, by reason of his marriage with Sir Daniel Norton's daughter. As it appears that none of the estates were forfeited, nor probably any of the amercements paid, tlie vote of 5000^. was a remuneration for a loss which had never been experienced. * See note at the end of this chapter. I THE FIEST PATRIOTS. 327 place-hunter ; a man who hates the Court because the Court does not love him. Among the race of our patriots appear Hampden and Pym ; consecrated names ! We know at present too little of the secret history of these remarkable men, to venture to develope the motives of their conduct. The intentions of men may, however, be purer than their practices, for between our intentions and our practices, our little and our great passions may intervene. Hampden passed his early years in the lighter dissipations of society. He had taken no degree at the University, but he studied the municipal law at the Inns of Court. He appears " to have retired to a more reserved and melancholy society ; " thus Lord Clarendon describes a more select and more studious class of minds, without, however, losing his natural vivacity and " flowing courtesy to all men.'' Hampden at length settled into an independent country gentleman— and in his retirement, but this we can only conjecture, must have meditated on some theory of politics. It is only on this principle that we can account for the extraordinary design which he aimed at, of overturning the whole government of England. Anthony Wood asserts that Hampden was " a person of anti-monarchical prin- ciples." I would not depend on honest Anthony's account of any man's principles, but in this instance I am of Anthony's opinion. I do not decide so much on the general conduct of Hampden, as from the remarkable intimacy which existed between him and his cousin, Oliver Cromwell; remarkable, because it enabled the penetrating sagacity of the student of Davila to predict to Lord Digby, pointing to Cromwell, that " that sloven, if we ever should come to a breach with the King — which God forbid ! — in such a case, I say, that that sloven wiU be the greatest man in England." Cromwell, in his famous canting answer, full of what he calls, " a way of foolish sim- plicity," at the conference about his "kingship," particularly alludes to Hampden, his former great friend, as having been a "hid instrument to help him on this work." The deep and reciprocal sympathy of these bosom friends most evidently indi- cates the same counsels, the same conduct, and the same great^ but concealed, design. Hampden lives in the unfading colours of the most forcible of 323 THE FIRST PATRIOTS. portrait-painters, the majestic Clarendon. Who will deny that he possessed that greatness of mind and character, and which suffered no diminution from an early death, capable of inspiring the most elevated patriotism ? The feelings of two ages attest the greatness of Hampden's name. Charles the First acknow- ledged his eminent character, when the King, on hearing of the fatal accident which terminated his career (the bursting of his own overcharged pistol in the field of battle), offered his own surgeon to preserve the life of his hostile subject ; and such was Hampden's enduring fame, that when one of his descendants was deficient in his public accounts, that public peculator found the name of Hampden was a talisman of patriotism ; and in the fervour of that day, he was not prosecuted, and his family obtained some provision in reverence of the name which he had so unworthily inherited.* It must be confessed, that though England has had no Plutarch to interest us by the charm of his details, our country does not want for subjects, particularly in the revolutionary age which now engages our attention. But the literary genius of these times had not yet reached to the philosophy of biography ; heroes were not wanting, but the immortalising pen. The great character before us found no friend in that day to send down to us the slightest memorial of the man, and curious collectors in physiognomy or in politics cannot even show us his portrait. The only anecdote we find to record of Hampden is the peculiar manner which he observed in speaking in Parliament. He considered that to speak last in an able debater, was an advan- tage almost equal to a victory. Hampden invited his opponents to exhaust their arguments in the first opening of the debate ; and if he found those of his own side worsted, his dexterous sagacity brought down less controvertible ones. The single * Richard Hampden, Treasurer of the Navy. In 1 726 his brother, John Hamp- den, petitioned for some relief. Artliur Onslow and others, carried the vote that some provision should be made for the family, in consideration of the signal services of their great-grandfather's noble and courageous stand against arbitrary power in opposing Ship-Moncy. — On this occasion Shippen, wittily alluding to the defalcation of Richard Hampden, observed that " He would not enter upon the merits of the great-grandfather ; but this he was sure of, that his gi-andson, the Treasurer of the Navy, had wasted more Skip-Money than ever he had saved to the nation, or than Chax'les the First ever intended to raise." — Hist, Reg. xi. 114. 5 THE FIRST PATRIOTS. 829 opinion of Hampden had that weight in Parhament, that how- ever the majority inclined, they suspected, if he were not in their number, the force of their own reasonings, and would not trust to their own conviction ; they either adopted his opinions, or adjourned the debate. And at the next meeting, the artful orator, or the active partisan, had mustered new forces, and thus "by perplexing the weaker, and tiring out the acuter judgments, Hampden rarely failed to attain his ends/^ * He excelled in the most subtle arts of debate. An admirable scholar, skilful not only in the choice and weight of his own significant expressions, but dexterous when a question was about to be put contrary to his purpose, in neutralising its object, by slipping in some qualifying term or equivocal word. How often has the inquiry been agitated, whether a terrible ambition was not concealed under the public virtues and powerful faculties of the patriot Hampden ? " It belongs not to an historian of this age, scarcely even to an intimate friend, positively to determine," said our inimitable and philosophic Hume; but Hume has himself determined it, by his acute penetration in the note to his text. Hampden has been described by our last authority. Dr. Lin- gard, as by preceding writers, to have been "quiet, courteous, and submissive.^^ At first he was one of the party who had prepared themselves for voluntary banishment; but whether this great man bore his faculties so meekly, may be a subject of future inquiry. I must own, too, that it is with difficulty we can form a notion of Dr. Lingard^s " quiet, courteous, and sub- iliissive " gentleman, in him, who, iii the breaking out of the civil wars in England, made Davila's history of the civil wars in France his manual. Hampden, at least, meditated on what he had resolved should happen. And never was there a man of the " quiet " temper and " submissive " disposition of Hampden, who was a more intrepid hero, when he drew his sword to shed the blood of half the nation ! Clarendon has declared, that * This trait in the Parliamentary character of Hampden may be found in Francis Osborne's works on " Government," sect. 31. It is curious to observe, that Lord Clarendon has not omitted some notice of it in his character of this patriot. Either his Lordship borrowed it from Osborne, or this peculiarity of Hampden's must have been notorious in his day. The other is furnished by Sir Philip Warwick. 330 THE FIRST PATRIOTS. " no one was less the man he seemed to be, which shortly after- wards appeared, when he cared less to keep on the mask." The truth is, as we ourselves have witnessed in Revolutionary- France, and as may be observed in the same characters which have appeared in the same scenes in the yet unwritten history of the terrible revolution in South America, that men naturally of calm tempers, and even of polished manners, change their character as if by magic, in the madness of their political passions. And this striking fact in the history of man, was noticed even by Lord Clarendon himself, who, though he was severe on the individual Hampden, was perfectly just in his deep knowledge of human nature. Alluding to the first meeting of the Long Parliament, which elated many of the members, he tells us, that " the same men who, six months before, were observed to be of very moderate tempers, and to wish that gentle remedies might be applied, talked now in another dialect of things and persons. They must now not only sweep the house clean below, but must pull down all the cobwebs which hung in the top and corners, that they might not breed dust, and so make a foul house hereafter, and to remove all grievances, were for pulling up the excesses of them by the roots." * And we must add "the branches" — they naturally began to lop " the branches ; " for such was the radical spirit of Hampden, that he joined a party who were distinguished by the popular political designation of " Root-and-branch-Men." The integrity of Hampden's principles, and his self-devotion to the public cause, to say the least, lost something of their purity in their progress. Whatever might have been the inte- grity of the Patriot, it was involved in dark intrigues, and degraded by an ambition which often betrayed the partisan and the demagogue. When we view Hampden at the head of his Buckinghamshire men, inciting several thousands to present petitions, we may doubt whether this instigation were Patriotism or Insurrection. His repeated journeys to Scotland, his secret conferences at home, indicated the active plotter. Once, when it was observed to him, that men had grown weary of such per- petual renewals of alarm, concerning the state of religion, while * Clarendon, i. 298. J THE FIRST PATRIOTS. 331 the civil grievances appeared much less to occupy their atten- tion, the subtle intriguer replied, that " if it were not for this reiterated cry about religion, they could never be certain of keeping the people on their side/' Was this a lesson which he had learnt in Davila? It was not unworthy of "the Prince'* whom Machiavel has painted. In that projected coalition of the patriots with the King's friends, which was frustrated by the sudden death of the Earl of Bedford, we can view only a scheme of political ambition, " The men of the people " hastened to take possession of their seats in the cabinet, driving away the ministry of Charles, some by flight, some by intimidation, some by compromise. Hamp- den here acted a remarkable part. The patriot demanded to be instituted governor of the Prince. I would not infer, not- withstanding this egotistical complacency, that the great mind of Hampden would not have sown the seeds of patriotism in a patriotic King. He might have taught " the Prince " the business of life as well as its pleasures ; even Lord Bolingbroke would have promised this ; but as in one case the tutor might have brought in a Stuart, so in the other he might have educated a root-and-branch Reformer* This attempt at the governorship of the Prince is said to have been intended as a means to keep the son as a hostage for the father. Thus the monarch was to be the only person in the kingdom bound up hand and foot on a throneless throne. He was to be a phantom of state, whose title was to hold the people in subjection to the sole will and absolute power of the great and ambitious mind, which frames a new government, — or to use Hampden's own express words, the monarch was " to com- mit himself and all that is his " to the care of Hampden and his friends. The future monarch was to become a royal Hamp- den: the English nation was to have been Hampdenised; and the British Constitution was to terminate in some political empiricism. Is it possible that Hampden resembled the Abbe Sieyes in his facility of drawing up constitutions ? "Were the English people to be the victims of forms of government mutable as the passions of party would dictate, or puppets of the Commonwealth of Utopia ? Pym, formerly a clerk in the Exchequer, but who, in the 332 THE FIRST PATRIOTS. projected flight into the cabinet, was to have been appointed its Chancellor, stood at the head of the patriotic, or, if we are to settle the style from the conduct of himself and party, we should rather say, the revolutionary party. One would have wished that the man whose character has incurred the taint of a suspicion of having taken a heavy bribe from the French ambas- sador, as Clarendon has twicei noticed, as well as " selling his protection " to some whom the Parliament had condemned as delinquents, had been graced with purer hands, and had less merited the sobriquet of " King Pym," a title with which he was hailed from his retentive grasp of power. Nor can we consider that our patriot stands before us in all the dignity of the character, when we find him addressing with such political gallantry a mob of women, huddled together in those petitioning times when " apprentices " and " porters,^' and even " beggars," complained that they had been long great sufi'erers by the bishops and the lords ! — and which, with other prepared mobs, so forcibly remind us of the French Jacobins, and the Poissardes and Sans-culottes of Paris. Nor does King Pym rise in dignity when we find him condescending to give out the artful rumour, and the lying scandal ; nor when we view him with the barbarism of brute despotism locking up the doors of the House of Com- mons, and flying with indecent haste to the Lords, to bring up the impeachment of Strafi^ord, before Strafford should impeach him ; nor when, with the inhuman cry of faction, he screamed on Charles's consent to the Earl's death — " Has he given up Strafford? then he can deny us nothing;" nor afterwards, when on the King's consent to make him Chancellor of the Exchequer, immediately lowering his tone, and changing his style in the House, he made some overtures to provide for the glory and the splendour of the Crown.* Pym, it is supposed, hastened his death, a prey to the unre- mitting exertions and constant anxieties of the last three years of his life; he had considerably injured his reputation with his * Clarendon, vi. 439. It must have been then that Pym declared in the House that they would make the King the richest King in all Clmstendom ; and that they had no other intention but that he should continue their King to govern them, and pressed that he might have Tonnage and Poundage granted him by act of Pai'lia- ment. — Nalsonf i. 5G9, I THE FIRST PATRIOTS. 333 own party, by his vacillating conduct when he had the Exchequer in view, and now, with a melancholy spirit, he was to suffer himself to be carried by those who would not follow him, as Clarendon describes his irksome and dubious way. Of such ambitious patriotism, which keeps not " the even tenor," but often trembles lest a single morning should sweep away its usurped government of intrigue, and to such a patriot, the tor- mented creature of his own designs, who has to confide to the perfidious, to work on the worst men, and to seduce the weakest, and to flatter all ; since no man is too mean to be courted, no arts too base to be practised by those who condescend to degrade their patriotism by adopting the deceptions, and setting in motion the manoeuvres of a faction — of such a sort of pa- triotism, and to such a sort of patriot, may we not say, " of making many plots there is no end, and much revolution is a weariness of the flesh ? " Whether Pym be too deeply calumniated, I will not decide, but he was game at all seasons for the royal wits, and stands more frequently the hero of their political libels or songs than any other character. In the year he died (1643), he conceived it absolutely necessary to publish " a vindication of his own conduct," to clear himself from " the fame-wounding aspersions of his reputation." In this curious document he denied the charge of being " the man who had begot and fostered all the lamented distractions now rife in the kingdom." It appears, what Clarendon indeed confirms, that he was not hostile to the Ecclesiastical Government; he had only resisted perverse bishops, " who had wrested religion, like a waxen nose, to the furtherance of their ambitious purposes, till they despaired of holding any longer iheir usurped authority." In respect to the conduct he observed towards the King, I give his own words : "But this is but a mole-hill to that mountain of scandalous reports that have been infiicted on my integrity to his sacred Majesty ; some boldly averring me for the author of the present distractions between his Majesty and his Parliament, when I take God, and all who know my proceedings, to be my vouchers that I neither directly nor indirectly ever had a thought tending to the least disobedience or disloyalty to his Majesty, whom I acknowledge my lawful King and Sovereign, and would expend 834 THE FIRST PATRIOTS. my blood as soon in his service as any subject he hath. I never harboured a thought which tended to any disservice to his Majesty, nor ever had an intention prejudicial to the State. I will endure these scandals with patience, and when God in his great mercy shall at last reconcile his Majesty to his High Court of Parliament, I doubt not to give his royal self (though he be much incensed against me) a sufficient account of my integrity." * What man but would exult in the self-conviction of such irreproachable integrity ? Who could imagine that such a patriot would not be respected even by his enemies ? But some of his contemporaries, who were the witnesses of his actions, could not judge so well of his intentions. They knew of those daily artifices of faction practised by " King Pym ; " the mobs he assembled, or dispersed, by his agents; the petitions that were begged or forged ; the rumours of conspiracies ; the pro- digality of promises to all, for all they desired ; never was the multitude so wheedled or so frightened ! Pym acknowledges " his lawful King and Sovereign " in his Vindication : had he forgotten that two years before, he had told, as a friend, to the Earl of Dover, that " If he looked for preferment, he must comply with the Parliament in their ways, and not hope to have it by serving the King ? " Pym declares " that he would expend his blood as soon in serving his Sovereign as any subject he hath." This was after he had chased that Sovereign from his palace ! When we have read the vindication of Pym, and consider that there were others, as well as himself, who could as reasonably accommodate their conscience to their actions, and look on their intentions rather than their intrigues, we must conclude that Fate, inexorable Fate, had intervened between the King and his people. Unhappy Charles ! No sovereign, it seems, possessed more loyal subjects, as the Parliamentary addresses always insist on, subjects more prompt to shed tlieir blood for their King, as Pym declares, at the very moment they had drawn their swords against him ! Unhappy people I who possessed a King who had their prosperity at heart, and their glory ever before him, * Rush worth, v. 376 I THE FIRST PATRIOTS. 835 while he was blasting the one, and obscuring the other, and was treated as an arbitrary tyrant ! I do not know that the whole history of mankind can parallel such an involved and cruel predicament as this, in which a sovereign stood with his subjects. The Earl of Manchester, the famous Lord Mandeville, and Kimbolton, who was so intimately acquainted with the secrets of his party, has told one, in those fragments of his memoirs which have been fortunately preserved by Nalson. Our patriots had so terrified Lord Cottington, that to save himself he had recourse to that prudent, if not subtle way, of stripping himself of his skin to save his life. He knew that the Mastership of the Wards was a place of that value and power as might stop the mouths of his voracious enemies. He cast it to the sullen Lord Say and Sele, the haughty head of the revolutionary party; who as intent to repair his own shattered fortunes, as those of the commonweal, found his patriotism melt away in this honeyed morsel of the Mastership of the Wards. The policy of Cottington, it appears, was successful, for while many were baiting him in hopes of his place, the instant it was disposed of to one of the party, all criminal aspersions were laid aside, and the displaced Cottington was suffered to retire in quiet.* Sir Arthur Haslerigg, the fierce exterminator of the Bishops, gorged on the fatness of three great manors, and the fruitful- ness of deaneries and chapel-lands. When these patriots were in possession of their plenary power, we find them voting large pensions to themselves. We are now well acquainted with their incessant meetings and cabals at home, and with the journeys of Hampden and Pym and others, to concert those measures in Scotland in which they so successfully laboured. Had the Earl of Strafford been suffered to have lived, the evidence would not have been wanting to the public ; it had already been furnished to the unhappy monarch whom it drove into despair and error. But I am anticipating events which will fall naturally into the progress of our history. * It is much to be regretted that these Memoirs of the Earl of Manchester are only known to us by some excerpts of Nalson. The manuscript was lent him by Dudley, Lord North. Nothing can be more interesting in the history of these times than the memoirs of an able man, who had acted so important a part in them. 33G THE FIRST PATRIOTS. We shall hardly need the lantern of the cynic to discover whether we have at length found the perfect patriot, who from our school-days so many are taught to recognise in these illus- trious personages. Had they no other designs, at times, than the redress of their "grievances V A by-stander may reason- ably suspect that with some, patriotism may either be produced by ambition, or may generate it. If it be our lot to detect low artifices and dark machinations in the actions of Patriots, shall we suppress the truths which the world has concealed ? It is a zealous labour to lift the veil from past time ; it would be an useless one, if we fail in the courage, to assert the truths which are our proud possession. We are mortified that these men, however great, compromised the dignity of the hallowed character with which the world has invested them ; the elevation of their style, and the purity of their professed honour, sometimes strangely coiftrast with their deeds and secret thoughts ; and sometimes too, their ambiguous conduct may induce the cynic to sneer and the sceptic to doubt, when these cold and narrow spirits should be taught only to blush. That all the Patriots were as guilty as the heads of their party, I am far from believing. There were honest men among them who were earnest for the redress of grievances, but whose names, were they inscribed on a muster-roll, would remain unknown to us. Baxter,* who was no doubt well informed in the secret history of the times, when he mentions the prefer- ments accepted by the patriots we have noticed, adds that there were others who "would accept of no preferment, lest they should be thought to seek themselves, or set their fidelity to sale.'' Of these two classes of Patriots, it must be confessed, that vast is the interval which separates them ; but it is with political business as with military afi*airs, the oflficers, and not the men, create revolutions. • Baxter's Narrative of his Life and Times, p. 25, fo. II THE FIRST PATRIOTS. 337 NOTE ON SIR JOHN ELIOT'S MANUSCRIPT TREATIS . This manuscript has been preserved among the Harleian MSS. 2228, with this title, " The Monarchic of Man. A Treatise philosophical and morale, wherein some questions of the Politicks are obviously discust. By Sir John Eliot, Knt. prisoner in the Tower." With this motto from VirgU: " Deus nobis haec otia fecit." It was in the leisure of a prison, as Eliot nobly adopts the otia of Virgil to his situation, that he composed this learned treatise, consisting of 240 folio pages. It has been considered by Mrs. Macaulay as a political work j but it is rather an ethical one. It yields no indication of republican prin- ciples, the writer maintaining, that monarchy, formed, as it were, on the prototype of the Creator himself, is the perfection of government ; any allusion to his own times is made with equal moderation and caution. " How far laws should influence Princes," he says, "is a question involved in difficulties — the prerogative of Kings is a point so tender as it will hardly bear a mention. We may not therefore handle it with any rough- ness, lest it reflect some new beam of terror on ourselves. To show that Kings are subject to laws, were not, he says, a task of hardness, if the danger did not exceed the trouble." The treatise discovers all the tedious scholastic learning of that period, perpetual references to Plato, Aristotle, Cicero, Plutarch, and Bodin. The freest thinkers had not yet emancipated themselves from plodding in the tracks of authority, and Eliot, who was so bold a speaker in the English senate, when warmed by English feelings, with his classical pen, dares not write a page without what he calls — " the strength and assistance of authority." Did he imagine that the English Constitution was to originate among the dreamers of the ancient philosophers ? "The Monarchy of Man" is an ethical, much more than a political work. Wearied by wrestling with " the mystery of the King's preroga- tive," the contemplative prisoner and philosopher looked into the monarchy of the Stoics — the self-government of Man. He closes his work by a passage of singular eloquence, an elaborate eulogy on the Independence of the Mind. It reminds one of the magnificence of Bolingbroke, when he also occasionally elevated his imagination to the superior wisdom and the superior virtue of a disciple of the Porch. Eliot having shown, that man is excelled by other animals, in many of his best faculties, proceeds : VOL. I. Z 338 ANTI-MONARCHY ; " Man only was left naked, without strength or agility to preserve him from the danger of his enemies, multitudes exceeding him in either, many in both, to whom he stood obnoxious and exposed, having no resistance, no avoidance for their furies, but in this case and necessity, to relieve him upon this oversight of Nature's, Prometheus, that wise statesman, whom Pandora could not cousen, having the present apprehension of the danger, by his quick judgment and intelligence, secretly passed into Heaven, steals out a fire from thence, infuses it into Man, by that inflames his mind with a divine spirit and wisdom, and therein gives him a full supply for all j for all the excellence of the creatures he had a far more excellence in this ; this one was for them all, no strength nor agility could match it ; all motions and abilities came short of this perfection ; the most choice arms of Nature have their superlative in its acts ; all the arts of Vulcan and Minerva have their comparative herein, in this divine fire and spu'it, this supernatural influence of the mind, all excellence organical is surpassed ; it is the transcendent of them all ; nothing can come to match it, nothing can impeach it, but man therein is an absolute master of himself, his own safety and tranquillity by God (for so we must remember the Ethics did express it) are made dependant on himself, and in that self-dependence, in the neglect of others, in the entire rule and dominion of himself, the aff'ections being composed, the actions so directed, is the perfection of our government, that summum bonum in philosophy, the honuni publicum in our policy, the true end and object of this Monarchy of Man." CHAPTER XXV. ORIGIN OF THE ANTI-MONARCHICAL PRINCIPLE IN MODERN EUROPE. It has been recently considered by an eminent writer, that tlie passion for "republican politics," was so unknown to us, that ''at the meeting of the Long Parliament, we have not the slightest cause to suppose that any party, or any number of persons, among its members, had formed wliat must then have appeared so extravagant a conception." Our ardent writer, therefore, conceives that "the year 1645^ is that to which we must refer the appearance of a republican party in considerable numbers, though not yet among the House of Commons"'^ It must be observed, that it harmonises with the preconceived • Hallam's ConBtitutional History of England. ITS ORIGIN IN EUROPE. 339 system of Mr. Hallam, to assign so late a penod for tlie appear- ance of the Republicans in this country, in order to enforce his principle, that in the King's own conduct, we are to look for the true origin of Eepublicanism, or rather the anti-monarchical spirit. Still, however, in the wide circuit of his reading on this subject, Mr. Hallam must have received some indistinct notions, that the genius of Republicanism was abroad, and no stranger in this country, — and with that candour which his ample know- ledge often exerts, we may here observe how the historian admits Truth unadorned as he finds her, up the back-stairs, although he sometimes dresses her to his own taste, for the more public audience. Hence it is that the text and the notes of the Con- stitutional History so often differ; in the text, the author's particular feeling is prevalent, and in the notes all his knowledge to complete the subject, however often the annotation may stand in opposition to the text. He thus acknowledges " that a very few speculative men, by the study of antiquity, or by observations on the prosperity of Venice and Holland, might be led to an abstract preference of republican politics." And what is more extraordinary, Mr. Hallam has himself discovered in the House of Commons, at the moment he tells us, that the spirit of " Republicanism had not yet appeared there," several leading members, whose republican sentiments are unquestion- able j and many are to be added to that number. To me it seems that the genius of Democracy had long before been busied in this country, and that the period which Mr. Hallam has assigned for its sudden birth, is about that of its growth and stature, as well in the place in which he says it did not yet appear, as in others where it had also shown itself. The ill-disguised republic of ducal Venice, under a haughty and merciless aristocracy, however prominent at this time in the intrigues of European cabinets, offered no model of a popular government to our fierce democratic spirits. The dark mysteries of that artificial government could only be maintained by the intricacy of its movements, silence, secrecy, and assassination ! The dispatches of their ambassadors differed from others ; these men were the busy-bodies of the diplomatic corps — political panders to the restless passions of their Lords, whose govern- ment seemed to exist more by cunning and watchfulness, than z3 340 ANTI-MONARCHY ; by real force or true greatness. Astute spies in all foreign Courts, though feeble and timid, by their unceasing communi- cations among themselves, they were masters of the secrets of the Cabinets of Europe, could foresee approaching wars, or detect exhausted enmities, so that they were at all times ready to afford the ally they courted their private intelligence, or their timely mediation — but the word " Liberty '^ was not whispered by a Venetian even at a distance from the lion's mouth. With the Flemings, indeed, our country had from the earliest times formed an uninterrupted intercourse, and when the Netherlanders aspired to throw off the yoke of the Spaniard and the Inquisition, never did two nations so fraternally sympathise in the same unity of interests. So closely connected were the two countries, that the burgher of Antwerp, or Amsterdam, was often resident in London. The Flemish factor Meteren, who stole many an hour from his meals and his sleep to build up the mighty tome of his nation's history, often passing and repassing from Antwerp, long sojourned and finally died in England. A witness of the Marian persecution, and of the extended reign of Elizabeth, and even of a part of that of James the First, he has chronicled many curious details of our own domestic history not elsewhere to be found. So strict was the union of the commonalty of the two people, that it seemed as if one country had two languages. If in this great national intercourse we sometimes adopted their idioms, we also caught their less refined manners, which has been observed by the antiquary Camden, the satirist Nash, and other contemporary writers. Our nation had combated for the Hollanders, and they had struck medals to commemorate the destruction of that fleet, so proudly called the Armada, which had threatened the English shores. We must, however, observe, that the republic of the United Provinces had not been founded on republican principles. In their extreme necessity, they had first offered themselves to a French Prince, and at length humbly proffered the sovereignty of their country to the British Queen, and their deputies htid declared to Elizabeth that " they were a people as faithful and as great lovers of their sovereign, as any other in Christendom." * • Meteren, fol. 254. ITS OKIGm IN EUEOPE. 341 Towards the close of Elizabeth's reign, the Republic had finally emancipated itself from the tyranny of Spain. The age of heroism, in which the founders of empire flourish, was now settling into the age of polity, when the strength of dominion lies in the conservative wisdom of statesmen. Already the fleets of Holland had distant colonies to guard and to conquer, and the genius of commerce was fast supplanting that nobler spirit which had made them a nation. To renovate their diminished population, to restore their cities which betrayed the ruins of many sieges, and to fertilise the long persecuted land of their fathers, they made their country the asylum of the world. There the fugitive became a dweller by his own hearth, and there the persecuted met his brothers gathered together to par- ticipate in the strange and general freedom. There the English Brownist retired to his conventicle ; there the Portuguese Hebrew sat in his synagogue ; and had the Mussulman chosen, doubtless some tall mosque had cast its shadow in the streets of Amsterdam or Middleburgh. The nation which invites the unhappy to become citizens, will secure patriots, and in a country where industry is the first virtue, and the sole means of existence, the excessive multiplication of a people need not raise the terrors of the political economist. The erection of this powerful republic, or of the New States, for thus the United Provinces were at first distinguished in our country, appears to have affected England, who had reared up this infant commonwealth against its Spanish oppressors, in some respects, as the American revolution is considered to have influenced France. The common intercourse of their mutual subjects increased, but at the same time this novel government became a refuge for all the English malcontents, equally under Elizabeth as under Charles. There they contemplated on that toleration which was denied at home, and there they inflated their egotism with the bewitch- ing spell of their " parity " or political equahty. They viewed trade and magistracy united in, the same burgomaster^ nothing was regal in " the New States," but every thing plebeian, and this was more congenial to the comprehension of those fiery spirits, haughty, at least, as Venetian nobles, than even an inscription in the golden book of the Adriatic. 34<2 ANTI-MONARCHY ; Elizabeth, who had already been threatened by a spiritual Republic from the Puritans, was now equally uneasy with respect to a temporal one. At the latter end of this Queen's reign, it was an usual phrase to speak and even to pray for " the Queen and State/' This word State, we are told by a very powerful writer, was learned by our neighbourhood to, and commenced with the Low Countries, as if we were, or aflfected to be, governed by States, This the Queen saw, and hated ; and such was the political dread in our Cabinet, that at her death the Earl of Oxford, in his propositions to James the First, warned the new monarch to prevent " this humour," i. e. the passion for demo- cracy, among that class of malcontents, whom the writer expressively styles " Innovators, Plebicola3, and King-haters." * James, we shall find, hardly required this friendly hint, and long after, he himself styled the Commons the five hundred Kings ! The conduct of James was, indeed, long dubious, with respect to the reception in England of these rising t " States ; " he had been more civil to them in Scotland, where they had displayed a princely munificence at the baptism of Prince Henry, but now that they aspired to rank among Sovereigns, the royal etiquette was lamentably deranged. The public affronts offered by the Spanish ambassador at our Court to the first Dutch ambassador, Noel Caron, whom he called "the Representative of his Master's Rebels," and the reluctant civilities so grudgingly accorded by the monarch, are pathetically narrated by the courtly Sir John Finet, in his Diary, as Master of the Ceremonies. This historian of levees and har- moniser of what, in the technical style of Court etiquette, he calls " clashes," was puzzled in what seats to place " the New States." Sometimes, he would altogether hide the Deputies, or place them apart at a pubUc ceremony, where the Spaniard took great caution to measure out the greatest length of distance ; • An extraordinary letter ab Ignoto, unquestionably by a profound politician. — Cabala, p. 378. t When James was King of Scotland, he invited " the New States " to send some envoy to be present at the baptism of Prince Henry. The presents of the liigher powers were rich, but the Dutch ambassadors modestly presented two cups of fine gold, accompanied by a golden casket, which, on opening, enclosed a sealed letter — it was a grant of five thousand florins to be paid annually during the Prince's life by the States. I ITS OEIGIN IN EUROPE. 343 even little Florence was mawkisli, and Savoy sternly stood on precedence. The first time James saluted " the New States " as " Messieurs les Etats,'' occasioned an instant revolution in the English Cabinet ; our Ministers were startled by a change of measures. This political courtesy had indeed been suggested to James in that memorable and secret conversation with Sully, when that able statesman opened that grand scheme for pre- serving the peace of Europe which the assassination of Henry the Fourth frustrated. James the First, when he published his Basilicon Doron, painted with vivid touches the Anti-monarchists or Revolu- tionists of that day. He describes " their imagined democracie, where they fed themselves with the hope to become tribuni plebi ; and sO in a popular government, by leading the people by the nose to bear the sway of all the rule. I was ofttimes calumniated because I was a King.^' After many researches to discover the first appearance of the anti-monarchical spirit in modern Europe, I must trace English Republicanism not to any elevated design to emulate the splendid though unhappy democracies of Greece, or the might and vastness of the Roman Commonwealth, but to a more obscure and ignoble source. In my opinion, we are to seek for the origin of our republican principles in that petty " discipline '* of Geneva, which was substituted by Calvin for its abolished Episcopacy. This discipline, truly, was the code of that aposto- lical community which was suited to the infant feebleness of primitive Christianity ; but this parity of Presbyters was more adapted to the polity of a parish vestry than for the government of a great empire. This, indeed, was but a religious institution, and hardly a political state, and rather threatened gorgeous hierarchies than potent monarchies. Those, however, who had rejected their spiritual, required but a single step to resist their temporal lords. And when once the cause of civil freedom had been grafted on that of the new religion, the Corahs, the Dathans, and the Abirams soon mingled with the prophets of insurgency. The Hollanders in vain seeking for a sovereign, at length found a ruler in their Religion. Applying to civil aff'airs the same principles of con- duct and regulation which they had adopted in their spiritual 344 ANTI-MONARCHY ; concerns, the Dutch, deprived of Valois, and rejected by Elizabeth, became Republicans. The anti-monarchical, or republican principles of modern times, were doubtless influenced by two awful catastrophes, which sovereigns hurried on, in their blind rage, against their Protestant subjects — the Marian persecution in England, and the massacre of St. Bartholomew in France. The ban of Mary had driven our fugitive religionists to Calvin's Geneva, and in that democracy their keen and wounded spirits perfected the entire theory of Anti-monarchy, the holy duty of insurrection, the power of deposing kings, and the possible justice of assassinating tyrants. It assumed, that all legitimate government was solely derived from the people them- selves; or, in the words of Buchanan, " Populus rege est prestan- tior et melior" — " the people are better than the King, and of greater authority." These republican doctrines, the Scotchman John Knox, and the Englishman, Christopher Goodman, as if the bearers of a new mission from Heaven, for their style was scriptural, promulgated in their native countries, as a new reve- lation, which was to abrogate that to which the world had hitherto assented. But I must not here anticipate a subject which may enter into our future inquiries. The reader, however, must now learn, that there existed a communion of principles among the foreign Calvinists and our own. The same principles produced that unity of conduct which we observe in both countries. Knox frequently appeals to his foreign connexions as a sanction for his acts and his axioms ; and we know how these were applauded by the great founder of this novel system — the atrabilarious and apostolical Calvin. Those revolutions in public opinion, which are silently operating, without yet manifesting any overt acts, can only be detected in those histories of mankind which are furnished by themselves — Books ! These are the precursors, or the recorders, of whatever is passing in Europe. There is a philosophy in the aridity of bibliography which few bibliographers have discovered ; there is a chronology of ideas as well as facts ; and the date of an opinion is far more interesting than any on the Colophons. The massacre of Paris occurred in 1572 ; nine years before. iTkS origin in eueope. 345 appeared an anonymous work, by a Protestant, wMcli inculcated the doctrines which Knox had so warmly espoused. Many passages in the Scriptures were applied against the authority of kings, and of magistrates established by kings.* The Pro- testants, who had not all entered so deeply into these theo- logical politics, were shocked at the avowal of principles which tended to subvert the government ; and to give a public testi- mony that Protestants were not rebels, the book was solemnly consigned to the flames by a Protestant assembly. The massacre which struck all Europe with horror, except the heartless bigots who have framed apologies for sanguinary politics, was the occasion of producing a multiplicity of what the French historians denominate " seditious writings." Ooe put forth a dialogue on the power, the authority, and the duty of princes, and the liberty of the people. Another inquires into the nature of the obedience due to the magistrate, according to the word of God, and infers that the oppressed subject may arm against the sovereign. Another on ^^Volun- tary Slavery " would shame the timorous into revolt. One of the most ingenious inventions of the anti-monarchical party in Prance, at this period, was " an advice on the means of establishing the perfect despotism of Turkey," said to have been presented to the King, Catherine de Medicis, and the Duke of Anjou, by a traveller, one Chevalier Poncet. This Chevalier, after having detailed every mode of arbitrary power, being interrogated how such a government could be established in France, furnishes some nefarious propositions which exceed the inventions of Machiavel. The Chevalier, who was a real per- sonage, indignantly asserted that the whole was a calumny. It is more certain that it forms one of the severest satires of the abuses of royalty which was ever penned. In a rejoinder to Poncet, he is reproached for having been the occasion of hastening the Parisian massacre. These, however, were but rude beginnings; there were better workmen, intent on more elaborate works, and who, having adopted the great revolution in the public mind, gave coherence to looser principles, and converted into a terrible system these novel doctrines. * Thuauus, lib. Ivii. 34' 6 ANTI-MONARCIIY ; The " Franco-Gallia " of the learned Hotman^ lays down for its first principle, that the crown of France was not hereditary as the estates of individuals ; that men formerly ascended the throne by the votes of the nobles and the people; and that females, in all times, were incapacitated to perform any acts of royalty. It is a rather curious fact, that in this fervour against monarchical power, at this moment, one of the objects of attack was the domination of women ! Mary of England ; the two Maries of Scotland; Elizabeth of England; Margaret Duchess of Parma, the governess of Flanders ; Catherine de Medici, were the rulers of Europe, and all Romanists, except our Elizabeth. Knox, indeed, had already preceded Ilotman by his famous " first blast of the trumpet against the monstrous regiment (government) of women.'' Hotman and Knox, in the course of events, were placed in a similar dilemma. On the accession of Henry the Fourth in France, the principles of Hotman were alleged by the opposite party against the right of his royal patron, and Hotman had to confute his own arguments, in which it is said he was not unsuccessful. When the Protestant Elizabeth succeeded her Roman sister, Knox, who had anathematised female dominion, contrived an artful salvo ; he offered to maintain the Queen's authority if her Majesty would consider her right of sovereignty as a miraculous exception, and as an extraordinary dispensation of Providence. Among the great works which have survived these anti- monarchical books, is the famous " Vindicice contra Tyrannos" which bears on its title the portentous pseudonym of Junius Brutus. The theme is of a loftier nature, concerning the legi- timate power of the Prince over the people, and the people over the Prince. It is the work of an ardent republican who leans entirely on the side of democracy. Hubert Languet, the credited writer, had composed the celebrated apology of the Prince of Orange, when he was put under the ban and edict of the Spanish monarch. The doctrines of Buchanan, in his famous work, De Jure Regni apud Scotos, assert the most positive and com- prehensive anti-monarchical principles. All these books appeared before 1580, and betray a perfect unity of anti-monarchical principles. But we must now look for acts as well as writings. When I ITS ORIGIN IN EUROPE. 347 these novel politicians of Geneva had assumed as their grand postulatum, that all legitimate government originates with the people — that religion^ politics, sovereign power, and, we may- add, sovereign wisdom, all came from the multitude, they were sure by this flattery of the people everywhere to find willing auditors. " We are a hundred thousand strong," exclaimed one of the ecstatic seers of revolt. But Knox, and men like himself, well knew that "the commonalty" were hands, and not heads. The oracle was therefore delivered as Knox has it, that " God has appointed the Nobility to bridle the inordinate appetites of Princes." From that moment, a new brotherhood was formed, which bound together the discontented grandee with the meanest of the people. " The commonalty " could not establish themselves in power but by the nobles, nor could the turbulent noble sup- port his ambition by a more formidable instrument than the people. It was long before the people discovered that they were only engaging in the quarrels of the few, in which they had no concern whatever, and that the interests of their chiefs were often distinct from the cause which they had openly adopted. It might have been supposed that this principle would have produced a similar mode of action as speedily in England as in France. Yet it so happened, from the nature of circumstances, that it was in France that first appeared the design of establish- ing republics. The Geneva politicians did not frame ordinances in Parliament till long after ! Dming the weak minority of Louis the Thirteenth, the French Protestants had become so formidable, that they held in equili- brium the power of the sovereign after three civil wars. They had followed up the oracular decree of Knox : — any fiery Prince of the blood — any Duke who aimed at an independent sove- reignty— any nobleman who had a quarrel with his family — passed over to the Protestants. It was well known that many of the French dukes, who were at the head of the Protestants, were none of their well-wishers, and that many of their leaders held all their Protestantism at the point of their sword. Yet Princes, Dukes, and Counts, perpetually adopting the cause of the Reformed, conferred on them that power and consideration which a sect of itself never could have acquired. 348 ANTI-MONARCHY ; As late as iu 16£1, the Huguenots, in their assembly at La Rochelle, had formally declared the erection of federative Repub- lics in France ; they had divided France into circles, and had even assigned to each department its respective " commandant." This new Republic, which was avowedly formed on the model of the Republic of Holland, we are assured by a very judicious historian,* would have been finally established, had the leaders united in their views. It was chiefly by their divisions that Richelieu succeeded, in course of time, in annihilating this powerful faction. There were among the Protestants a consi- derable party who were not republicans, — a circumstance which often occasioned the most contrary or ambiguous conduct ; the republicans being anxious to manifest to the world what their mo- narchical companions were as anxious to conceal. This strange discordance appeared when the assembly of La Rochelle resolved on having a new seal engraved to stamp their commissions and ordinances. The Genevan system, politics grafted on religion, discovered itself in an extraordinary manner, by the design on the seal of La Rochelle. An angel leaning on a cross, was holding a book high in the air, bearing the Latin inscription — Pro Christo et Rege (for Christ and the King) ; but by the ambi-dextrous contrivance of the state-engraver, who had to obey two very diff'erent masters, the true reading was — Pro Christo et Grege (for Christ and the flock). This was eff'ected by faintly engraving the G, which the sharper eyes of the Republicans exultingly traced, and appealed to as an evidence that they had thrown off the yoke of monarchy, and were only obeying the Republic, which they sanctified as *' the flock of Jesus Christ." Had Charles the First been as well acquainted as ourselves with the secret history of his brother, Louis the Thirteenth, and the factions at his Court, how often might this monarch have contemplated on an image of events, which afterwards were connected with his own fortunes, and he might have taken even a perspective view of a new Republic in Europe, the precursor of that wonderful one, whose first public act was the most astonishing deed ever done in civilised Governments — the execution of their Sovereign I • Pere Griffet, xvi. 284. I ITS OKIGIN IN EUROPE. 349 It can hardly be doubted, for it is in tbe natural course of human events, that the republicanism of the Rochellers must have been wafted over the seas to our shores; and that the Genevan system of politics and religion, already not new to our country, received a considerable impulse by the heroes who had com- bated, and the sages who had counselled in that memorable siege, and who were now fugitives and emigrants in England. The rigid monarchists of our country do not appear to have been insensible of the tendency of these new doctrines, and could hardly discern the nice point which separated rebellion from reformation. As early as in 1628, Republicanism in the House of Commons was more than suspected by Charles the First, which appears by the very denial of the House itself — for they declare, that "Nothing so endangers us with his Majesty as that opinion that we are anti-monarcMcally affected ;'' and they proceed to declare that, " had they to choose a government, it would be this monarchy of England above all governments in the world." But it is not the minority which draw up public addresses. That there was a Republican party in the House of Commons before 1 645, the period at which Mr. Hallam declares it had not yet entered the House, is unquestionably proved by those curious conversations which Clarendon has given in his " Life," between himself, Nathaniel Fiennes, and Henry Marten, which occurred in 1641. They had partaken of a political dinner at Pym's lodgings, where Hampden, Sir Arthur Haslerigg, and others of the party, clubbed together. Fiennes, in riding out with him, communi- cated to Hyde, whom they were solicitous to gain over, their firm determination to extirpate the hierarchy; but a day or two afterwards, Henry Marten opened himself with more freedom ; that witty and unprincipled man declaring, that, as for some particular men who governed the House, he thought they were Knaves ; but when they had done as much as they intended to do, they should be used as they had others. Hyde pressing to know what they intended, Harry Marten, after a little pause, summoned resolution, however, to let Hyde into the grand secret, by roundly answering, " I do not think one man wise enough to govern us all." Clarendon, it is true, declares that this was the first word he 350 AM-I-MONARCHY ; had ever heard spoken to that purpose. But we cannot infer from this, that it would have been new to many others — it fell from the lips of a great Republican in Parliament in 1641. We may be quite certain, that the establishment of a Common- wealth, even at that time, would not have had only the single vote of Harry Marten. I would answer for Haslerigg, and have no doubt of Nathaniel. It was, indeed, too early to have carried the motion through the House. Such mighty evolutions are hewn and laboured out of the mass only by degrees, and the frankness of Harry Marten would not have been imitated by those, who, though equally intent on the same design, would not, however, dare to be equally open. The fact is that the republican party existed long before ; a very intelligent political observer, the French Secretary of State, De Brienne, writing to Sabran, the French Resident at London, 1644, does not hesitate to express his conviction of the anti-monarchical designs of the Parliament, " Tai tovjours connu leur visee a V extinction meme de la Royaute."^ He had, doubtless, detected the anti- monarchical party when in England several years before. The awful controversies between the Monarch and the Par- liament ; the arbitrary measures to which the royal distresses had driven Charles ; the popular terror of papistry ; the prin- ciples of passive obedience to '^the divine right" of Church and State; the pseudo-Brutus Felton, who, in his self-devotion, seemed to the kingdom to rise in glory from the refulgent stroke of a patriot's poignard ; all these were the elements of the Spirit of Republicanism. Men were yet to speak, in those times ; we had yet no Sidneys and Lockes ; opinions and feel- ings are long silently propagated before they can assume the lasting form of published works. In the history of mankind, there is one moral principle as certain in its effects, as we find in the physical world is that of gravitation ; it is the re-action of our natures. In the indissoluble chain of human events, things make themselves without being made, for the last seem only consequences of those which precede them. Passive obe- dience inculcated in a monarchy engenders the opposite principle of the popular freedom of republicanism. Man, in * From the MS. Memoirs of Sabran, vol. ii. fo. 203 ; 5460 Additional MSS. British Museum. I ITS ORIGIN IN EUROPE. 351 changing his posture, imagines he finds relief, by placing him- self in quite a contrary attitude. Already the lower classes of society were formed for democra- tic notions ; but with them it was long limited to the Hierarchy. Armed with the sacred Scriptures, they applied the revolu- tionary events, and quoted the democratic style in which the historical parts abound ; but as, in the spirit of the " parity '' of the presbytery of Geneva, they only deemed Bishops as " the tail of the Beast,^^ these pious fanatics need not at present enter into our consideration. But a new race was rising, who were now carrying their theoretical ideas of government into anti-monarchical views; men who, twenty years afterwards, became the founders of the English Commonwealth. It would be a preposterous notion to imagine that the Monarchy of England could be suddenly changed into a Republic, unless men^s minds had been long in training to hazard such a political empiricism. I have often considered that the stern republicanism and the personal hatred of Charles the First, which so strongly charac- terised our immortal Milton, was early imbibed ; not only from his first tutor, the " puritan in Essex who cut his hair short," — as Aubrey, in his colloquial meanness of style, describes a learned man, who abandoned his country, but returning under the Pro- tectorate, had the Mastership of Jesus College, Cambridge, assigned to him — there was another of his associates calculated to form his anti-monarchical feelings ; a man more remarkable than famous. Milton^s second tutor, and beloved friend, was Alexander Gill, the son of Dr. Gill, master of St. PauFs School, and usher under his father. "VVe know of this intimacy by three Latin epistles addressed to Gill by Milton, and to the honour of Gill be it told, he entertained a just conception of his immortal pupil. Gill, who appears to have led an unsettled and turbu- lent life, was not scrupulous in concealing his sentiments ; and they were expressed in the vulgar tone of the lowest democracy. He conducted himself so indecently when a reading clerk in the chapel service, that the scholars of Trinity tossed him in a blanket. Wood notices, that he was frequently imprisoned; and when he succeeded his father in the Mastership of St. 352 ANTI-MONARCHY ; PauFs school, he was compelled to retire from that honourable oflfice in 1635, on complaints of his extreme severity, if not cruelty, to the scholars, a circumstance to which Jonson alludes : — " To be the Denis of thy father's school." Of such a man, not ill-adapted to become even a founder of the English Commonwealth, which he did not, however, live to witness, we shall not be surprised to find, that speaking and acting throughout life without restraint, naturally produced one, — for he was at length put into the Star-Chamber. It was at Trinity College cellar, that Gill drank a health to honest Jack (Felton), with a gentle comment, that he was sorry he had deprived him of the honour of doing that brave act ; that the Duke had gone down to hell to see King James — and of bad to give the worse, that the King (Charles) was fitter to stand in a Cheapside shop, with an apron before him, and say " what lack ye?" than to govern a kingdom. In the manuscript letter which gives this account, I find that the offensive words con- cerning his Majesty were not read in open court. But Gill had long indulged his democratic spirit, for he had kept up a political correspondence with the great Chillingworth for some years, in which, as Aubrey confesses, " they used to nibble at State matters." Chillingworth is censured for having betrayed this confidential intercourse to Laud, when in one of his letters Gill distinguishes James and Charles, as "the old fool and the young one." We shall not be surprised to find, at this period, that this fiery Revolutionist was brought into the Star-Chamber, sentenced to lose one ear at London, and the other at Oxford, and, as usual, heavily fined two thousand pounds. The tears of the old doctor, supplicating on his knees befoi'e the King, prevailed, his petition being backed by Laud ; the penalty was mitigated, and the ears were spared. As Laud was not usually merciful on these occasions, I am inclined to think that Chil- lingworth, who has been blackened by his treachery, had not given his information without a promise of Laud's intercession — perhaps he meant >nly to check our radical Gill, whose republican feelings appear by a silly satire of the day — " Thy alehouse bai'king 'gainst the King And all his brave and noble Peers." C.J ITS ORIGIN IN EUROPE. 353 It is clear that Gill had anticipated the Republic about to be ; in such affairs there is always a forlorn hope/ who must be first sacrificed. That GilFs illustrious pupil was influenced by his democratic turn of mind, and that he appears to have caught some portion of his friend^s severity to his pupils, and that they were both staunch republicans before even Charles came to the throne,, cannot be doubtful. Milton and Gill can only be con- sidered as the representatives of a large class of that new race, who, in theory or in practice, were prepared to advocate anti- monarchical principles. On this subject of " republican politics," there is a remark- able circumstance connected with an extraordinary character, whose name appears in our history, but the story of whose life, could it now be obtained, would probably throw new lights on the secret history of that party, which for a short but fatal period was predominant. The circumstance which I am about to disclose requires a preliminary anecdote concerning two eminent persons, — a baffled historian, and a minister of state. Fulke Greville, the first Lord Brooke, who, among his greatest honours, was most desirous to be remembered by posterity as " the friend of Sir Philip Sidney," was also the patron of Camden and Speed, a votary of poetry and history. He had once designed a life of his late mistress. Queen Eliza- beth, from which he had only been deterred by the political trepidations of the famous Secretary Cecil. In an amusing anecdote of the historical inquirer and the minister, we may detect the insurmountable objections of a statesman to the inconvenience of contemporary history. On the first request of the future historian, his friend the minister warmly embraced his proposal, and promised to furnish his warrant for researches among the State papers. At a second interview, the minister strangely shifted his ground, and turn- ing short on the inquirer after truth, wondered how Sir Fulke could dream out his time in writing a s^tory, when no one was a more rising man than himself — (a whisper of preferment !) ; — then he expostulated on the danger of delivermg many things of the former reign, which might be prejudicial to the present. A writer of history, replied the half-disappointed historian, VOL I. A A 354 ANTI-MONARCHY ; though bound to tell nothing but the truth, was not, he pre- sumed, equally bo\ind to tell all the truth ; he was to spare the tenderness of individuals or families, nor was he to injure the existing interests of governments. This seemed a compromise, and came so unexpectedly on the minister, that he had nothing to add ; but as he had settled his resolution before the visit of the historian, he closed the conversation, by informing him, that "the council-chest must not lie open without his Majesty^s approbation." The baffled writer of history, who had already degraded his office by offering to be the discloser of half-truths, now gave up his projected history in despair; aware, as he expresses it, that " sheet after sheet was to be reviewed " by other eyes than his own, and that so many alterations would be required, that his history would turn out to be " a story of other men^s writing, with my name only put to it." The passion for history had not, however, diminished in the breast of its votary ; and about 1628, Sir Fulke Greville, now become Lord Brooke, founded an Historical Lectui'c at Cam- bridge, endowing it with no penurious salary for that day — one hundred pounds per annum. Why an Englishman was not found worthy of the professorship has not been told. The founder invited the learned Vossius of Leyden to fill this chair ; but the States of Holland having at that moment augmented his pension, Vossius recommended to his lordship. Dr. Dorislaus, an excellent scholar and a doctor in civil law. The learned Hollander, so early as in 1628, was sent down to Cambridge by Lord Brooke, with the King's letters to the Vice- Chancellor, and the heads of colleges, who immediately complied with the design of the noble institutor of this new professorship. Dr. Dorislaus delivered two or three lectures on Tacitus, but he had not yet gone beyond the first words Urbem Romanam primo Tteges habuere, when he discovered that he was addressing critical ears. He disserted on the change of government in Rome from kings to consuls, by the suggestion of Junius Brutus ; he dwelt on the power of the people ; and touching on the excesses of Tarquin, who had violated the popular freedom which the people had enjoyed imder his predecessors, he launched out in vindication of his own country in wresting their liberties from the tyranny of the Spanish monarchs. J ITS ORIGIN IN EUROPE. 355 There was a tone of democracy in tlie lectures of the Dutch- man, a spirit of republican fierceness to which the heads of houses had not yet been accustomed ; and though the Doctor had particularly excepted such monarchies as those of England, where he said " the people had surrendered their rights to the King, so that in truth there could be no just exception against the sovereign,^' yet the Master of Peter-house, quick at analo- gies, and critical at deductions, communicating with the Master of Christ Church and the Vice-Chancellor, a murmur rose which reached London, and at length the King^s ear, of the tendency of these republican doctrines.* Dr. Dorislaus at first offered to clear himself before the heads of houses ; he proposed to dis- patch letters to his patron, and other eminent personages, to explain his opinions, but at length resolving to address himself personally to Lord Brooke, he suddenly suppressed these letters, observing, that " he would see an accuser, before he replied to an accusation." What occurred at Court is obscure. The Bishop of Win- chester, in his Majesty^s name, suspended our history-lecturer ; but shortly after, the suspension was annulled, and the Doctor allowed to return to his chair. Fuller, who alludes to this transaction, tells us that " Dorislaus was accused to the King, troubled at Court, and after his submission hardly restored to his place." His first patron, however, who difi'ered in his political sentiments from his successor, the republican Lord Brooke, in a letter to the Doctor, requested that he would retire to his own country, assuring him, however, of his stipend during life. Lord Brooke, shortly after this generous offer, was assassinated by his servant. The Doctor, it is certain, never contemplated returning to his republic, and it is suspected that he had his reasons. This scholar and adventurer was " a fair conditioned man," as indeed appears by his portrait. He married an Englishwoman, was established a Professor at Gresham College — and this foreigner, whom Puller describes as " a Dutchman very anglicised in lan- guage and behaviour," became a very important personage in the great Revolution of the land of his adoption. * The idea of these lectures I found in Archbishop Ushei''s Life, by Parr. Letter 393, from one who says " we fear we shall lose the lectures." A A 2 356 ANTI-MOX Alien Y ; A history of this Dutch Doctor of Civil Laws, and Repub- lican, would furnish a subject of considerable interest in our own political history. Although we have not hitherto been enabled to trace the private life of this remarkable character, for the long interval of twenty years, in which he was settled in this country, yet it is quite evident, that during this period he cultivated an intimate intercourse with the English Repub- licans of that day; for he became their chief counsellor, a participator in their usurpations, and acted in a high station in the Commonwealth. His death was not less political than his life. The first patron of Dr. Dorislaus, Fulke Greville, afterwards Lord Brooke, was succeeded in his title by his cousin, Robert Greville, whom he had adopted as his son. The young Lord was scarcely of age, and the republican sentiments of the second Lord Brooke, imbibed by the generous temper of youth, were so opposite to the monarchical character of the first Lord, that we have no difficulty in discovering his tutor in his own his- torical lecturer of Cambridge. In the dreams of his soul, lofty views of human nature broke forth, and in a romantic passion of patriotism and misanthropy, he had planned, with another discontented noble, Lord Say and Sele, to fly to the forests of New England, to enjoy that delusive freedom which he con- ceived that he had lost in the Old. Whether Dr. Dorislaus would have accompanied his pupil, and have forsaken the Academy of Gresham for an American savannah, may be doubted. The Doctor had abandoned his own republic for a more comforting abode in a monarchy. The founders of sects are often very different in their views and temperaments to their proselytes. A cool head has often inflamed hot ones, as water feeds fire. Lord Brooke''s motives were the purest which human nature can experience, yet such a secession from our fatherland may be condemned as betraying more sullenness than patriotism. It was this Lord Brooke who afterwards sided with the Par- liament, and whose extraordinary prayer, on the day of his death, at the storming of the church-close at Lichfield, has been adduced by those who presume to explore into the secret ways of Providence, as a demonstration of what they are pleased to ITS OEIGIN IN EUROPE. 357 term particular providences^ or judgments, while the opposite party, who do not object to these divine catastrophes whenever they happen to their enemies, never recognise one in the fate of their friend; thus it happens that the man whom one party considers as the object of divine vengeance, is exalted by the other into the beatitude of a saint. It would have been more reasonable to have remarked, that this very prayer, from the pure and noble mind of Lord Brooke, perhaps argued some painful doubts about the cause which he had espoused, and for which he was to die. When the Rebellion or the Eevolution broke out, our specula- tive philosopher. Doctor Dorislaus, became a practical politician. The notions of government which he maintained well suited tliat base minority, who in those unhappy days triumphed over the monarchy and the aristocracy of England, and- an indis- soluble bond of political connection was formed between Doris- laus and the popular chiefs. The Dutch Doctor of Civil Law became their learned Counsellor, and their resolute agent, and the political adventurer received the gratitude of the co-partners and the profits of the co-partnership. We discover Doctor Dorislaus as the Judge- Advocate in Essex's army; we find Doctor Dorislaus presiding as one of the Judges of the Admi- ralty;* we behold the republican foreigner standing between the Attorney and the Solicitor-Generals at the trial of the King of England ; and when his ability had served the English Com- monwealth so zealously at home, we see him commissioned by his friends in power, to return to his native land, as their representative — the ambassador of England ! There, when scarcely arrived, and in a manner the most unexpected, the Doctor terminated his career. His character was too flagrant not to attract the notice and indignation of the English emigrants. Some Cavaliers, maddened by loyalty and passion, who knew how actively Dorislaus had occupied himself in forwarding the unparalleled catastrophe which the world had witnessed, avenged the murder of their sovereign by an unpar- donable crime — the crime of assassination. A party rushed * 13th April, 1648. An Ordinance was passed for appointing "William Clark, John Exton, and Isaac Bonslaics, Doctors at Law, Judges of the High Court of Admiralty. — Journal of the Commons. V. 528. 358 ANTI-MONARCHY ; into his apartment while he was at supper, and dispatched the ambassador of the new Commonwealth. This foreigner must have obtained an ascendancy in the Government not yet entirely discovered, and had been most intimately consulted on the events of the times, and more par- ticularly in the conduct of the most criminal of the acts of the men in power. This appeared by the predominant party decreeing him a public funeral, attended by the Council of State, the Judges, and the whole Parliament. Evelyn has chronicled this pubUc funeral for " the villain who managed the trial against the King.'' It has been urged in favour of Dorislaus, that he did not speak at the trial of the King. It is probable that this foreigner might not have acquired all the fluency of forensic elocution necessary to address those who were called the English people, on an occasion so tremendously solemn. Those, moreover, who had been forced up into supreme power, might also have still retained some slight remains of decorum, and scarcely have desired that a stranger, with a foreign accent, should plead for the English people against their sovereign. But was Dorislaus less active because he was mute ? Sir Henry Vane, of whom Mildmay and his brother, a great enemy to the King, and at whose house in Essex, Dorislaus, we are told, " played at cards on Sundays," was the person who promoted Dorislaus to the drawing up of the charge.* As a civilian, he was most compe- tent to draw up the indictment, such as it was ; and he acted so important a part in the trial itself, that in the print we may observe this Dutch Doctor standing between the Common- wealth's Counsel, Cooke and Aske. Such is the story of Doctor Dorislaus, a foreigner, who was more busied in our history than appears by the pages of our historians. The concealed design of his historical lectures, when the professorship was first founded at Cambridge, seemed doubtful to many, but less so to discerning judgments. The whole tenor of the professor's life must now remove all doubts. Dr. Dorislaus was a political adventurer, a Republican by birth and principle, the native of a land where, in the youthhood of the Republic, a nation's independence had broke forth ; there * Heath's Chronicle, fo. 1676, p. 230. J ITS OEIGIN IN EUROPE. 359 was no small town, scarcely an obscure spot, whicli did not commemorate some stratagem of war, some night assault, some voluntary immolation, or which bore not the vestige of some glorious deed. There the siege had famished the city; there the dyke, broken by the patriot's hand, had inundated his own province. The whole face of the country was covered with associations of unconquered patriotism. Dorislaus had willingly deserted this popular freedom and poverty to endure the servitude of monarchy in ease and com- petence. The Dutch republican consented to join the English people, to adopt his own expressions, in " surrendering their rights to their sovereign." Perhaps he afterwards deemed that " the majesty of the people '^ retained the power of revoking their grant. His Roman intrepidity, if our lecturer on the seven Kings of Eome ever possessed it, was lurking among intriguers, and his republican pride at length was sharing in the common spoil. Such is the picture of a Eepublican whose name appears in our history, and who acted a remarkable part in it, but who has not hitherto received the notice which he claims. From all which we have observed, we would infer that the republican party must have long prevailed before it could enter into the House of Commons, where we find these anti-monarchists several years before the period assigned by the constitutional historian. I have thus endeavoured to throw some light upon the origin in modern Europe, and particularly in England, of that mighty principle which produced such tremendous effects in the era which is the subject of our investigation. We have detected it in its secret birth, we have observed it passive in theory, we have witnessed it repressed by the strong arm of authority. We are now approaching the epoch of its open, its active, and its triumphant career. A monarchy subverted, an aristocracy abolished, a hierarchy abrogated, are results which never could have taken place without the exertion by all parties of a power of thought, and an energy of action — without the occurrence of a variety of events, and the appearance of a diversity of cha- racters, the study of which should teach us, in some degree, how to think and how to act, how to contemplate events, and how to 360 CHARLES I. CORRECTS TWO GREAT ERRORS. judge men. It is when considering the age of which we treat, in this political and moral point of view, that I have often been inclined to conclude, that in a right understanding of the life and reign of Charles the First, are involved most of those subjects, the knowledge of which is valuable and necessary to all men, at all times, but above all, to Englishmen ! CHAPTER XXVT. CHARLES THE FIRST CORRECTS TWO GREAT ERRORS IN HIS CONDUCT. The three first Parliaments of Charles the First had been alike disturbed and interrupted, and the last of them was violently dissolved. Each separation had only inflamed a more feverish jealousy on the Court side, and a more embittered and contumacious spirit on that of the Patriots. All these Parliaments had been suddenly terminated, to screen two prime ministers from impending charges, or a threatened im- peachment.* Clarendon has deeply entered into the subject of these " un- seasonable, unskilful, and precipitated dissolutions of Parlia- ment." His editors purposely, or by a false reading of the manuscript, have altered the word " unseasonable," to " unrea- sonable." Whichever reading we adopt, may lead to the same inquiry. When the sovereign interposes to screen an accused minister, it seems an obstruction of justice. The person thus insidiously protected, finds the imputations of his accusers still adhere to him; he cannot elude the infamy he incurs, or remove the prejudices which are raised against him ; the calumny, if it be a calumny, thus left alive, will outlast the calumniated. '' Such a minister," says Clarendon, " is generally concluded guilty of whatever he is charged with, which is commonly more than the worst man ever deserved." * The Duke of Buckingham and the Lord Treasurer Weston, Earl of Portland. I CHARLES I. CORRECTS TWO GREAT ERRORS. 361 But what are the common qualities of these popular de- nouncements ? The noble writer, with that deep knowledge of human nature which has stored his volumes with theoretical wisdom, has analysed the constituent portions of these public accusations. They are a mixture to which ""this man con- tributes his malice, another his wit, all men what they please, and most upon hearsay, with a kind of uncharitable delight of making the charge as heavy as may be." It is, therefore, a consequence that " these accusations are commonly stuffed with many odious generalities that the proofs seldom make good; and when a man is found less guilty than he is expected, he is concluded more innocent than he was, it is thought but a just reparation for the reproach that he deserved not, to free him from the censure he deserved." All this is admirable, and displays an intimate acquaintance with human nature. But when Clarendon comes to apply his generalising views to the particular case, the result becomes dubious. He infers, that had these two ministers submitted to the proceedings designed against them, it had been more for the advantage of the King, and Parliaments had then learned to know their own bounds, by which the extent of their power would have been ascertained. In exempting ministers from prosecution, by forcible dissolutions of Parliament, the power of the Parliament only became the more formidable. In frequent meetings of Parliaments, *' medicines and cures, as well as diseases, had been discerned, and they would easily have been applied to the uses for which Parliaments w^ere first instituted." Clarendon argues in the spirit of a great lawyer jealous of con- stitutional rights, which at that time were unsettled, contested, and obscure. In respect to the two accused ministers them- selves, when Lord Clarendon, in his retirement, contemplated on the fate of Strafford and Laud, it might have occurred to him, that Buckingham and Weston had only occupied the same perilous position, and had they lived, would have had to en- counter the same inevitable fate. The noble historian, indeed, makes the successful result, which had pleased his fancy, to depend on a contingency, namely — " that Parliaments at that moment were as they had hitherto been; that the Commons had never pretended to the least part of judicature ; and that 362 CHARLES I. CORRECTS TWO GREAT ERRORS. the Peers, to whom every act was referred, deliberated with law and equity, the King retaining the sole power of pardoning." But this was no longer the character of the House of Commons; a new era had opened, and a revolution in the minds of men had shown itself, even before Charles the First ascended the throne. James the First had good-humouredly called the Commons "the five hundred kings;" and latterly, the popular party were called "the lower-house lords." The Commons were assuming the whole judicature in their own hands. " Par- liaments are as the times are," was the observation of the intrepid Judge Jenkins. The leaders who are advocating the public cause, may degenerate into factionists; and there is great danger that " the will of the people " may thus become as arbitrary as the worst despotism. As popular men advance in power, they are liable to abuse it. The etats generaux of France, after the battle of Poictiers, when they got all the power into their hand's, terribly abused it ; a similar conduct of the deputies of the people may sometimes have occurred in our own Revolution under Charles the First, as it undoubtedly did in the late French Revolution. Adopting the public cause Avith the intense interest of a private one, the noble patriotism which perpetuates the names familiar in the recollections of every Englishman, was unhappily too often crossed by personal infirmities; too often their designs seem contrary to their principles, and too often the impulse which sprang from a public source, took the direction of a private end. In the am- biguous conduct of their public spirit, the reckless management, and the practised artifices, stamped on it the characteristics of a faction. Of Lord Clarendon, Mr. Hallam has observed, that "not- withstanding the fine remarks occasionally scattered through his history, he was no practical statesman, nor had any just conception at the time of the course of afi*airs." Who, indeed, had ? It may even be doubtful whether at first the great movers themselves of the vast and future scene, had any certain notions of the subsequent events. Even as late as 1C39, Eng- land lay in deep tranquillity. Clarendon, in noticing Scotland, saw only that " a small, scarce discernible cloud rose in the North." A cloud ! He never imagined an earthquake ! A CHAELES I. COERECTS TWO GREAT EEEOES. 363 revolution of the most extraordinary character^ and which was to serve, as it certainly did, for the model of that which was to convulse England for many years, was scarce perceivable in 1639, and the Scots were our " dear brethren," and invaded England in the following year. So difficult it is, to penetrating minds, even in ages more philosophical than that of Charles the First, to form any just conceptions of their own contem- poraries, and to decide on events which, while they are passing under their eyes, yield no indication of their extraordinary ter- mination. On the opening of the French Revolution, there surely was no want of great and sagacious minds, yet, perhaps, not a single one could foresee the gulph that lay before them ; the gulph which was not distant from the spot on which they stood. The Count de Segur affords an unexceptionable testi- mony of this fact. "The year 1789, which was to close with such a vast Revolution in France, and suddenly separate our cabinet from the cabinets of Europe, opened without any of them foreseeing the approaching concussion. Some flashes of lightning, indeed, during some months, had been the precursors of the storm, but no one surmised it ; it was considered that some salutary reforms would terminate the embarrassments of our Government. It was an epoch of illusions ! " * The patriots who opened the National Assembly, did not view in their perspective the Convention, nor did the demagogues of the Convention imagine that their reign of terror was to sub- side into the feeble oligarchy of the Directory. Human affairs create themselves as much as they are made by men ; and acci- dents produce events, as much as events give rise to accidents. The course of affairs was as little detected by other great men as by Clarendon. Strafford could only view in the daring, unyielding spirit of Eliot, " a fantastic apparition ;" and, at a much later period, classes the meditative Hampden, and the active Pym, with the Prynnes, the Burtons, and the Bastwickes ; and degrades his own sagacity as much as his taste, when alluding to Hampden, he hints that a certain famous pedagogue might " be well employed to whip this angry boy." Strafford could only be jocular on the curt names of "the Pyms, the Prins, and the Bens;" and, with ludicrous contempt, affects * Segur, iii. 443. 364 CHAELES I. CORKECTS TWO GREAT ERRORS. " to fence himself as strongly as he could against the mouse- traps, and other small engines of Mr. Prynne and his associates.'^ So short-sighted are politicians in power, too deeply occupied by their own projects to contemplate on those of others, as greatly ambitious as themselves. Charles undoubtedly did not discern with more clearness than Clarendon and Strafford, those awful scenes in which one day he was to be both spectator and actor. He had dissolved his Parliaments with indignant anger ; and an English monarch now decided to reign without a Parliament. " A brisk resolu- tion," as Clarendon terms it, but which his wary editors, at a distant and more temperate day, have interpolated by " improvi- dent." Did the King imagine, by thus straining his preroga- tive, that when factions were silenced, they ceased to exist? It is probable, however, that by this irregular conduct in the monarch, the nation enjoyed ten years of prosperity before their troubles opened on them. This fact, and it is a very striking one, will seem paradoxical to those who are fully impressed with the popular opinions of the tyranny of this unfortunate monarch. Much, indeed, will seem paradoxical in the conduct of the King and the Commons in this irregular reign. Truth changed sides continually between the parties. Relieved from these continued struggles with his Parlia- ments, Charles the First doubtless flattered himself that he should govern a willing and an obedient people. This monarch had now entered on the thirtieth year of his age, a period of life when the maturity of the mind begins to influence thought- ful dispositions : and four years of a disturbed reign had taught the sovereign some lessons which no monarch had yet received ; nor, as we shall find, had some of them passed away unheeded. If the genius of the man, in unison with the genius of the age, were too contracted for the comprehension of the agitated and strange spirit of the new era, which had hardly appeared during the reign of his great predecessor, and had been kept at bay by his good-humoured father, still had Charles the First discovered two errors in his political conduct; and, somewhat chastened by the severity of Fortune, the monarch had tasted of the bitter fruits of favouritism and of military ambition, —and Charles at once relinquished both. I CFIARLBS I. CORRECTS TWO GREAT ERRORS. 365 These Continental wars, or rather those maritime expeditions, by which Buckingham had aspired to invest the monarchy of England with a splendour it seemed to want in the vast theatre of Europe, had been but the illusions of a youthful prince, and a minister as young. These wars with Spain and France, seem to have originated in the popular reproach which his father had endured, for having preserved the nation in a peace of twenty years, and in that restless desire of a change of measures which so often torments and delights the English people. Charles had cast the uncertain chances of the die of war; a game which princes are unwilling to quit while losers, but he had the merit to sacrifice his wounded pride. France and Spain gladly con- ceded a courteous peace.* For them, an English war, without an object, became only an obstacle in the vast opposing systems of these potent rivals ; and, though they were alike the political enemies of England, in state-policy all enmity ceases when it requires a friend. Charles now concentrated his entire energies in his own realms, and only looked on the affairs of the Conti- nent with the curiosity of an observer, rarely with the interests of a partner in the balance of dominion. The King had no longer any favourite, nor would he suffer that envied place to be occupied. From the untimely death of Buckingham, with that strength of character which I have ascribed to him, he had resolved to act as his own minister, and * Why does Dr. Lingard depi'eciate the character of Charles the First ? That is certainly taking the safe side : but would it be difficult to assign the reason of this systematic conduct in this historian, usual with the members of the Church of Rome, who, whatever the Puritans of the day thought, always censure Charles for his compromising and indecisive measures ? Our historian observes on this peace, that " Philip, whether it were through generosity or contempt, sent back, without ransom, the prisoners made at Cadiz ; Louis those taken in Rhe," ix. p. 413. Contempt! Charles was never regarded with contempt by the rival powers. Both, in 1635, courted this English monarch, whom Dr. Lingard has thus aspersed. The sensible Jesuit, Pere GrifFet, states this clearly : " L'Angleterre fut vivement solicitee d'entrer dans la querelle ; la France lui fit les offres les plus avantageuses ; I'Espagne n'oublia rien pour la gagner ; mais le Roi Charles demeura dans I'inaction." This is much for a Prince who was contemned ! — Griffet, Hist, de Louis XIII. ii. 560. In a manuscript letter of the day, it is particularly mentioned, that, " the French King sent back the English prisoners as a present to the Queen, without ransom. He told Lord Mountjoy, when his Lordship offered a round sum for his ransom, that he should pay no money, but should only send him out of England two couple of hounds." — Mas. Mem. ii. 59. 366 SOME OBSERVATIONS ON he ceased to rest his entire confidence in the laboui's and tlie genius of a single person. His habits of application seemed not to unfit him for the official duties of sovereignty. Never was there a monarch who employed his pen so laboriously — few letters or papers passed his revision without being returned with marginal notes, queries for inquiry, and alterations, which attest the zealous diligence with which he applied to business. Burnet has said, that " He minded little things too much, and was more concerned in the drawing of a paper than in fighting a battle." The silly antithesis carried away the writer's care- less pen. It is quite untrue; for the King's marginal notes are not verbal refinements, but substantial inquiries, or decided opinions ; and " the concern " he showed in " his battles '^ at least equalled the courage with which he fought them. Charles might now have regretted his less fortunate fate, when compared with that of his rival brothers of France and Spain, whose illustrious favourites, Richelieu and Olivarez, were maintaining the splendour of their monarchies. At this moment, our youthful monarch had fallen into a great and unavoidable fault in his abandonment of Parliaments, which he knew not the art of governing, even by concessions ; but he had the merit of correcting two errors, and freed himself, at the same time, from war and from favouritism. CHAPTER XXVII. SOME OBSERVATIONS ON THE CHARACTER OF THE KING. Although Charles would no longer listen to single counsels, nor Avould allow any public papers to pass, but through his own hands, yet the monarch, still young, and apt to be precipitate in his conduct, felt his incompetency in the arts of government. This is evident, by a circumstance observed by Clarendon, and confirmed by others — that the King often adopted the sugges- tions, and yielded to the opinions of others, of inferior judgment to himself. Of this feature in liis character we are quite certain ; for long after the death of this unfortunate prince, THE CHARACTER OF THE KING. 367 St. John, who had been his treacherous solicitor, and now, under the new government of Cromwell, was Lord Chief Justice, in conversation with Dr. Sampson, an eminent physician among the Presbyterians, made this avowal ; " The truth is, the King had an unhappiness in adhering, and unweariedly pursuing, the advices of others, and mistrusting his own ; though oftentimes more safe and better than those of other persons. If Strafford may go for a noble Minister of State, yet the Queen, Laud, Buckingham, &c. who had his ear so much to his. utter undoing, were fitter for other provinces than that of a Cabinet or Coun- cil." * St. John, now, since the curtain had dropped, and the tragedy was over, free from passion himself, delivered his opinions with the temper and truth of an historian. But at a later period of his life, on many severe occasions, the King discovered such a clear comprehension, and such a promptness of decision, that whenever affairs depended on mere arguments, the King never found his superior. This was con- fessed by many, and some reflecting men acknowledged, that before their interviews with Charles, they had formed a very erroneous conception of the capacity of the King. Certain it is, however, that Charles the First was singularly deficient in his experience of human nature, for he seems never to have discriminated the talents, or the dispositions, of those about him. Hence, he so often confided to the faithless, or the adventurous, and too often employed the inefficient ; and while he even courted some, who could return no sympathy, he as strangely neglected others, who had both the power and the inclination to serve him. As this is one of the more remarkable defects in the character of this monarch, it deserves a more critical investigation. In the history of the character of Charles the First, two moral facts interest an observer of human nature. One is, that the faculties of Charles developed themselves as his troubles multiplied on him ; and the other is, that the strong personal attachments which Charles inspired, occurred only in the latter years of his adversity. It was when he stood alone in the world, without a throne, that he seemed to have deserved one. * Dr. Sampson's Day-book, folio 69, Sloane MSS. 44G0. 368 SOME OBSERVATIONS ON When we compare the correspondence of his earlier days, which still exists, with that of his later age, we perceive in the letters addressed to his father, and afterwards, when King, to Buckingham, that he appears to have surrendered up his mind to them, and that even on the throne, he was still the pupil of that first companion, on whom he had placed his hopes and his affections. A long interval, and muta])le fortunes, intervene from the death of Buckingham to the time of the King's imprisonments, during which a vast number of letters were written by his own hand, often in haste, often in flight. Energy and action, resolution and passion, kindle in those effusions ; Charles then had to command — to exhort — to rebuke. It is not improbable that Charles, from various motives, was averse to the business of politics — there was an ingenuity in his mind fitted to more peaceful pursuits. He disliked, too, the parade of Majesty, which, on more occasions than one, he studiously avoided, and this reserve injured him in the minds of the populace, whose eyes are loyal when Kings are gracious. Charles had no popular qualities for council or for ceremony. He was a man of few words, somewhat abrupt — there was a cold reseiTC in his speech, and a stateliness in his habits. The one may partly be ascribed to his painful enunciation, a defect which long accompanied him ; and the other seems probably to have been assumed, to avoid that loose familiarity, whose incon- venience he must have frequently observed in James the First. Although character and habits are often hereditary, yet it is not unusual for the son to contract the opposite quality of the father : a reflecting son has had so many opportunities to detect its infirmity. Thence we see the patient and thoughtful son of a hasty and impetuous father, while the slow-minded and phleg- matic sire contemplates in his heir, the fire and daring which he admires and fears. It is evident that the individual who, when Prince of Wales, had been entirely resigned to the political government of the King, and who, when he ascended the tlirone, rested as entirely on Buckingham, would, at a subsequent period, lean on the judgments of others to guide, or to lighten the cares of State. Charles seems willingly to have adopted the opinions of those with whom he consulted, though his own was oftener the eligible THE CHARACTEE OF THE KING. 869 one, with the hope that it would terminate difficulties which were repugnant to his temper, his impatience, and his retired habits. Hence, in Strafford, and in Laud, in Hamilton, and in Digby, he looked for the substitutes of those whom he had lost, and yielded without reserve to their fatal aid. Formed for peace, and the embellishments of life, but placed amid the raging contests of factions ; when he saw the elements of his government in dissolution, without a favourite, an adviser, or a partner in the troubles of royalty, in his last years he stood alone, and never less vacillated in his conduct. But he was not this being in his early years. It seemed then that he imagined, when he had fixed on an appointment, that the person of his choice was necessarily the very person the place required. He had not a single minister about him, except Strafford, capable of balancing any one of the leading members of the Opposition. The horizon of a Court is but a contracted sphere. There precedence and etiquette disguise the man ; there genius is levelled to the mediocrity around ; and Kings oftener decide by habitude than by judgment. The character of Charles changed. It was when the sorrows of many years had opened his reserved nature; when long exercised in those hardier virtues which could not have revealed themselves under the canopy of a throne, that on so many emergencies the monarch displayed that prompt sagacity, and that deep thoughtfulness of the passing scenes, which won the admiration of those who held with him but an occasional inter- course. Even the courtesy of his manners, and his fluency in discourse, visibly improved. But they who shared in the ten- derness of companionship, who witnessed his fugitive and pre- carious existence, and the heroic conduct of his small army; who heard him treat as a statesman with the most intricate diplomacy of the times, and beheld his undeviating fortitude in lonely captivity, magnanimous though subdued — with these, all other emotions melted away in the tenderness of their personal affections, and it was his latter days that were distinguished by the devotion of his friends. VOL. I. B B 370 OF THE NEW ADMI^^ISTRATION. CHAPTER XXVIII. OF THE NEW ADMINISTRATION. At the breaking-up of the last Parliament, it was a current opinion that " there was really an intention to alter the form of Government both in Church and State/' A hint of this nature had formerly menaced the Commons from Sir Dudley Carleton, who had talked of the necessity of *'new Councils/' Sir Dudley had returned to his native country after long embassies, with foreign notions of the regal authority, such as he had imbibed in the courts in which, he had lived too long for the patriotism of an English minister. The King, by an angry Proclamation, had told his people that "the late abuse of Parliaments had driven his Majesty unwillingly out of that course, and he, therefore, would account it presumption for any to prescribe any time to his Majesty for the calling of a Parlia- ment." It closed by a vague promise, that " when his Majesty should be more inclinable to meet in Parliament again, and the people should see more clearly into his own intents and actions — those who had been misled, might come to a better under- standing of his Majesty and themselves."* What were these " new Councils ? " The science of politics, perhaps, resembles that of medicine, and is too often empirical. A new system of government, like a change of prescriptions, is nothing more than an experiment ; and as physicians usually adopt a contrary curative method from the one hitherto found unsuccessful, Charles probably meditated to infuse a renovating vigour into his languid administration. On this subject, I discovered among the pocket memorandum- books of R. Symonds, a chaplain in the King's army, a remark- able anecdote. The writer, in journalising the daily movements of the army, in this useful itinerary of marches, has preserved many historical particulars ; has sketched, with his pen, many remains of our antiquities; and often inserted anecdotes, on the days he heard them, authenticated by the names of the * Rush worth, ii. 3. OF THE NEW ADMINISTRATION. 371 communicators. The present extraordinary account seems to consist of the heads of a story set down for future recollection. " The King had written a book with his own hand_, wherein were many things concerning Government. And in it a model of government for the nation according to that of France, and to effect it. The bringing in the German horse truly to settle it. Old Earl of Bedford had seen, or heard of the book, and being familiar with Oliver St. John, Secretary of Justice,* told him of it, who by all means wrought with the Earl of Bedford that he might see this book, which he accomplished, and made use of it against the King, which the King perceived, and found it to be Bedford, whereupon he was very angry. Mr. Crisp." f Such is the tale, never heard before, of a book, written by the King^s own hand, never seen. Why was this extraordinary manuscript shown to the Earl of Bedford ? Had it disclosed such a system of arbitrary power as the communicator imagined ; is it possible that the Earl of Bedford, St. John, Pym, and that party, could ever, on any terms, have acceded to such a project? Or would the King have even dared to avow it ? Excepting this, there is nothing improbable in the story. Charles, as I shall have occasion to show, was an admirer of the great states- man Richelieu, though the monarch, when the national honour was at stake, had the courage to incur his enmity. Was Charles the First, at a moment of despair, driven to contemplate on a system of government which, like that of Richelieu, might have silenced the Parliament, and have awed the people ? If such were the fact, then the real liberty of the English nation was put in more jeopardy than at any other period in the whole history of this reign. The German horse, however, never arrived, nor has this book yet been discovered. After all, I suspect that this very paper-book may turn out to be that famous manuscript, entitled "A Proposition for his Majesty's service, to bridle in the impertinency of Parliament."J The history of this manuscript is curious. The original had been traced to the great library of Sir Robert Cotton, among his other rare literary curiosities. By the treachery of the librarian, * An unusual phrase — if it mean Solicitor-General ; or was this title given to him in the Commonwealth ? f Harleian MSS. 991. ^^^ X It is printed Rusliworth's Collections, i. — Appendix 12. ^BL B 2 372 OF THE NEW ADMINISTRATION. a few copies were clandestinely sold, till, being brought into the Star-Chamber, it occasioned the suspension of Sir Robert from the use of his library; his spirits sank, and it occasioned, by his own confession, the death of our great Collector. The original was the coinage of Sir Robert Dudley, who lived in exile at Florence, and had, projected a plan, "how a Prince may make himself an absolute tyrant." He addressed the scheme to James the First, with a view of ingratiating himself. A copy came into the hands of Strafford — and it was also maliciously ascribed to him, in a pamphlet, entitled " Straftbrd's Plot discovered, and the Parliament vindicated." It is likewise reprinted in the appendix to Ludlow's Memoirs, to render the Earl more hateful. Some time after this was written, I discovered that I had not erred in my last conjecture ; but I have not altered what I have said, for it may amuse some of my readers to trace the gradual progress of research. The circumstance is noticed by Sir Symonds d'Ewes, in his MS. life, who knew the fact from his connection with Sir Robert Cotton himself. The particulars differ from the anecdote as recorded by the Chaplain. — " St. John, then * a young studious gentleman,' paid for the loan of this ' pestilent ' tract, and showed it to the Earl of Bedford, who was the head of the Opposition party, and also related to, and the patron of, St. John. This was in 1629, the year in which the third Parliament was dissolved. Strafford had obtained a copy, and one or two other persons."* Such was the real origin of the tale set afloat against the King, whose name does not, however, appear in the narrative of D'Ewes, though this is no reason why Charles might not also have procured a copy. The artifice of the Parliamentarians is more evident, in ascribing it to Strafford as " a plot " of his own. Had not the correct story been preserved by the Antiquary in his own memoirs, the circumstance recorded positively in the diary of the Chaplain, some of our historians would have accepted as an authentic fact ; one, too, which could not have been disproved by any positive evidence. The whole offers a curious example of the foundation and of the invention of many popular tales, which * The passage from Sir Symonds d'Ewcs' life, which is an Harleian Manuscript, has been preserved in Kippis's Biog. Brit. iv. 301. OF THE NEW ADMmiSTRATION. 37S are not improbable, though they may be untrue ; and it is such, ambiguous facts which exercise the sagacity, and often baffle the researches, of the historian. But whether Charles ever transcribed this " pestilent " tract, or at all studied it, it seems certain that he meditated on the means of strengthening his feeble and insulted sovereignty. Conscious as we may believe this monarch felt within himself of the integrity of his own purpose, he concluded, that by royally maintaining the public honour in its exterior relations, and by diffusing the prosperity of the people in their domestic interests, he might still accomplish the great ends of govern- ment. It cannot be denied that he fully accomplished these two important objects. The Parliament had thrown him amidst insurmountable dif- piiculties. They had denied him even the revenues "reserved for [every English monarch: these, indeed, the King insisted on retaining; but to raise supplies for the State, he was compelled, .without any fault of his own, to resort to expedients which were lecessarily illegal. These unpopular modes of taxation came forth in the repulsive shape of arbitrary impositions : the very .names which disguised them became so odious, that one of them, though in itself an innocent tax, and most honourably -used, has become proverbial for its tyranny ; " Ship-money " t raised up the first of our Patriots, and proved to be one of the lost active causes in the Revolution. Yet Charles cannot be reproached for exacting monies from his people from any wan- tonness of prodigality, for he was parsimonious.* From the * We read Oldmixon with indignation, when he exults at the mean prudence of the Parliament in withholding the necessary supplies for carrying on the government. " When money is wanted to support profusion and luxury, and enrich favourites," p. 147. Whatever be the error of the father in this respect, his son certainly did not inherit this disposition. It is candidly observed by Whitelocke, that the ship- money was not oppressive, nor objectionable, excepting that it was not levied by Parliament, p. 22. It was most inviolably used by Charles, who called these monies his '< Sea-Contributions," and was often compelled to furnish additional supplies from ^his own impoverished exchequer. This obnoxious tax, after all the declamation I against it, even of moderate men, as were Lord Falkland, Waller, and Clarendon himself, hardly ever exceeded the sum of two hundred and thirty thousand pounds, by which the sovereignty of the sea was to be maintained ! It is an important fact, that the ships which were built with this execrated Ship-money, must have served in our naval victories under Cromwell. The odium of the tax fell on the King, but, having been faithfully used, the nation received its benefit. 374 OF THE NEW ADMINISTRATION. death of the Duke of Buckingham lie became reserved in his bounty, and frugal in his own expenses, and, by retrenchments every year, paid a portion of his debts. * I have myself seen the King's Household Book: all the monthly accounts are signed by his own hand. So honest was the King in his expenditure, and so anxious to husband his limited resources, although the clamour of his bitter enemies has charged him with raising supplies for his own personal conveniences. It was not discovered till the times of the Commonwealth that the demands of the monai'chy had been very moderate. It is probable that Charles the First contemplated never again to call a Parliament. We are acquainted with his forcible style concerning them. In his hatred, or his contempt, Par- liaments were " hke cats that grow cross with age," and in his fear, or his horror, they were " a hydra, which he had found cunning as well as malicious.^' Charles had retained too indelible a recollection of the past, and felt that the Commons had ungene- rously used him. Even at a later period, when in the rough draft of a circular letter for a voluntary contribution in aid of the Queen of Bohemia, an object of popular regard, the minis- ters had contrived to sweeten it by an allusion to a future ParHament, the King struck out the whole passage, and as he was accustomed, assigned his reason in the margin — ^' I have scored out these eight lines as not judging them fit to pass." f Were Charles the First at heart the mere tyrant, which th cries of a party have described him, he would have reigned like other despots : a tyrant ever takes the shortest course. But the King, at least, p