Of his romantic excursion into Spain for the Infanta, many curious
particulars are scattered amongst foreign writers, which display the
superstitious prejudices which prevailed on this occasion, and, perhaps,
develope the mysterious politics of the courts of Spain and Rome.
Cardinal Gaetano, who had long been nuncio in Spain, observes, that the
people, accustomed to revere the Inquisition as the oracle of divinity,
abhorred the proposal of the marriage of the Infanta with an heretical
prince; but that the king's council, and all wise politicians, were
desirous of its accomplishment. Gregory XV. held a consultation of
cardinals, where it was agreed that the just apprehension which the
English catholics entertained of being more cruelly persecuted, if this
marriage failed, was a sufficient reason to justify the pope. The
dispensation was therefore immediately granted, and sent to the nuncio
of Spain, with orders to inform the Prince of Wales, in case of rupture,
that no impediment of the marriage proceeded from the court of Rome,
who, on the contrary, had expedited the dispensation.
The prince's excursion to Madrid was, however, universally blamed, as
being inimical to state interests. Nani, author of a history of Venice,
which, according to his digressive manner, is the universal history of
his times, has noticed this affair. "The people talked, and the English
murmured more than any other nation, to see the only son of the king and
heir of his realms venture on so long a voyage, and present himself
rather as a hostage, than a husband to a foreign court, which so widely
differed in government and religion, to obtain by force of prayer and
supplications a woman whom Philip and his ministers made a point of
honour and conscience to refuse."[1]
Houssaie observes, "The English council were against it, but king James
obstinately resolved on it; being over-persuaded by Gondomar, the
Spanish ambassador, whose facetious humour and lively repartees greatly
delighted him. Gondomar persuaded him that the presence of the prince
would not fail of accomplishing this union, and also the restitution of
the electorate to his son-in-law the palatine. Add to this, the Earl of
Bristol, the English ambassador-extraordinary at the court of Madrid,
finding it his interest, wrote repeatedly to his majesty that the
success was certain if the prince came there, for that the Infanta would
be charmed with his personal appearance and polished manners. It was
thus that James, seduced by these two ambassadors, and by his parental
affection for both his children, permitted the Prince of Wales to travel
into Spain." This account differs from Clarendon.
Wicquefort says, "that James in all this was the dupe of Gondomar, who
well knew the impossibility of this marriage, which was alike inimical
to the interests of politics and the Inquisition. For a long time he
amused his majesty with hopes, and even got money for the household
expenses of the future queen. He acted his part so well, that the King
of Spain recompensed the knave, on his return, with a seat in the
council of state." There is preserved in the British Museum a
considerable series of letters which passed between James I. and the
Duke of Buckingham and Charles, during their residence in Spain.
I shall glean some further particulars concerning this mysterious affair
from two English contemporaries, Howel and Wilson, who wrote from their
own observations. Howel had been employed in this projected match, and
resided during its negotiation at Madrid.
Howel describes the first interview of Prince Charles and the Infanta.
"The Infanta wore a blue riband about her arm, that the prince might
distinguish her, and as soon as she saw the prince her colour rose very
high."--Wilson informs us that "two days after this interview the prince
was invited to run at the ring, where his fair mistress was a spectator,
and to the glory of his fortune, and the great contentment both of
himself and the lookers-on, he took the ring the very first course."
Howel, writing from Madrid, says, "The people here do mightily magnify
the gallantry of the journey, and cry out that he deserved to have the
Infanta thrown into his arms the first night he came." The people
appear, however, some time after, to doubt if the English had any
religion at all. Again, "I have seen the prince have his eyes immovably
fixed upon the Infanta half an hour together in a thoughtful speculative
posture." Olivares, who was no friend to this match, coarsely observed
that the prince watched her as a cat does a mouse. Charles indeed acted
everything that a lover in one of the old romances could have done.[2]
He once leapt over the walls of her garden, and only retired by the
entreaties of the old marquis who then guarded her, and who, falling on
his knees, solemnly protested that if the prince spoke to her his head
would answer for it. He watched hours in the street to meet with her;
and Wilson says he gave such liberal presents to the court, as well as
Buckingham to the Spanish beauties, that the Lord Treasurer Middlesex
complained repeatedly of their wasteful prodigality.[3]
Let us now observe by what mode this match was consented to by the
courts of Spain and Rome. Wilson informs us that Charles agreed "That
any one should freely propose to _him_ the arguments in favour of the
catholic religion, without giving any impediment; but that he would
never, directly or indirectly, permit any one to speak to the _Infanta_
against the same." They probably had tampered with Charles concerning
his religion. A letter of Gregory XV. to him is preserved in Wilson's
life, but its authenticity has been doubted. Olivares said to
Buckingham, "You gave me some assurance and hope of the prince's
_turning catholic_." The duke roundly answered that it was false. The
Spanish minister, confounded at the bluntness of our English duke, broke
from him in a violent rage, and lamented that state matters would not
suffer him to do himself justice. This insult was never forgiven; and
some time afterwards he attempted to revenge himself on Buckingham, by
endeavouring to persuade James that he was at the head of a conspiracy
against him.
We hasten to conclude these anecdotes, not to be found in the pages of
Hume and Smollett.--Wilson says that both kingdoms
rejoiced:--"Preparations were made in England to entertain the Infanta;
a new church was built at St. James's, the foundation-stone of which was
laid by the Spanish ambassador, for the public exercise of her religion:
her portrait was multiplied in every corner of the town; such as hoped
to flourish under her eye suddenly began to be powerful. In Spain (as
Wilson quaintly expresses himself) the substance was as much courted as
the shadow here. Indeed the Infanta, Howel tells us, was applying hard
to the English language, and was already called the Princess of England.
To conclude,--Charles complained of the repeated delays; and he and the
Spanish court parted with a thousand civilities. The Infanta however
observed, that had the Prince loved her, he would not have quitted her."
How shall we dispel those clouds of mystery with which politics have
covered this strange transaction? It appears that James had in view the
restoration of the palatinate to his daughter, whom he could not
effectually assist; that the court of Rome had speculations of the most
dangerous tendency to the protestant religion; that the marriage was
broken off by that personal hatred which existed between Olivares and
Buckingham; and that, if there was any sincerity existing between the
parties concerned, it rested with the Prince and the Infanta, who were
both youthful and romantic, and were but two beautiful ivory balls in
the hands of great players.