_Born 1600. Succeeded James I 1625. Beheaded 1649._
By CLARENDON.
The severall unhearde of insolencyes which this excellent Prince was
forced to submitt to, at the other tymes he was brought before that
odious judicatory, his Majesticke behaviour under so much insolence,
and resolute insistinge upon his owne dignity, and defendinge it
by manifest authorityes in the lawe, as well as by the cleerest
deductions from reason, the pronouncinge that horrible sentence upon
the most innocent person in the worlde, the execution of that sentence
by the most execrable murther that ever was committed, since that of
our blessed Savyour, and the circumstances therof, the application
and interposition that was used by some noble persons to prævent that
wofull murther, and the hypocrisy with which that interposition was
deluded, the Saintlike behaviour of that blessed Martir, and his
Christian courage and patience at his death, are all particulars
so well knowne, and have bene so much inlarged upon in treatises
peculiarly applyed to that purpose, that the farther mentioninge it
in this place, would but afflicte and grieve the reader, and make the
relation itselfe odious; and therfore no more shall be sayd heare of
that lamentable Tragedy, so much to the dishonour of the Nation, and
the religion professed by it; but it will not be unnecessary to
add the shorte character of his person, that posterity may know the
inestimable losse which the nation then underwent in beinge deprived
of a Prince whose example would have had a greater influence upon the
manners and piety of the nation, then the most stricte lawes can have.
To speake first of his private qualifications as a man, before the
mention of his princely and royall virtues, He was, if ever any,
the most worthy of the title of an honest man; so greate a lover of
justice, that no temptation could dispose him to a wrongfull action,
except it were so disguysed to him, that he believed it to be just; he
had a tendernesse and compassion of nature, which restrayned him from
ever doinge a hard hearted thinge, and therfore he was so apt to grant
pardon to Malefactors, that his Judges represented to him the damage
and insecurity to the publique that flowed from such his indulgence,
and then he restrayned himselfe from pardoninge ether murthers or
highway robberyes, and quickly decerned the fruits of his severity, by
a wounderfull reformation of those enormityes. He was very punctuall
and regular in his devotions, so that he was never knowne to enter
upon his recreations or sportes, though never so early in the
morninge, before he had bene at publique prayers, so that on huntinge
dayes, his Chaplynes were bounde to a very early attendance, and he
was likewise very stricte in observinge the howres of his private
cabbinett devotions, and was so seveare an exactor of gravity and
reverence in all mention of religion, that he could never indure any
light or prophane worde in religion, with what sharpnesse of witt so
ever it was cover'd; and though he was well pleased and delighted with
readinge verses made upon any occasyon, no man durst bringe before
him any thinge that was prophane or uncleane, that kinde of witt had
never any countenance then. He was so greate an example of conjugall
affection, that they who did not imitate him in that particular,
did not bragge of ther liberty, and he did not only permitt but
directe his Bishopps to prosequte those skandalous vices, in the
Ecclesiasticall Courtes, against persons of eminence, and neere
relation to his service.
His kingly virtues had some mixture and allay that hindred them from
shyninge in full lustre, and from producinge those fruites they should
have bene attended with; he was not in his nature bountifull, though
he gave very much, which appeared more after the Duke of Buckinghams
death, after which those showers fell very rarely, and he paused to
longe in givinge, which made those to whome he gave lesse sensible of
the benefitt. He kept state to the full, which made his Courte very
orderly, no man prsesuminge to be seene in a place wher he had no
pretence to be; he saw and observed men longe, before he receaved any
about his person, and did not love strangers, nor very confident men.
He was a patient hearer of causes, which he frequently accustomed
himselfe to, at the Councell Board, and judged very well, and was
dextrous in the mediatinge parte, so that he often putt an end to
causes by perswasion, which the stubbornesse of mens humours made
delatory in courts of justice. He was very fearelesse in his person,
but not enterpryzinge, and had an excellent understandinge, but was
not confident enough of it: which made him often tymes chaunge his
owne opinion for a worse, and follow the advice of a man, that did not
judge so well as himselfe: and this made him more irresolute, then the
conjuncture of his affayres would admitt: If he had bene of a rougher
and more imperious nature, he would have founde more respecte and
duty, and his not applyinge some seveare cures, to approchinge evills,
proceeded from the lenity of his nature, and the tendernesse of his
conscience, which in all cases of bloode, made him choose the softer
way, and not hearken to seveare councells how reasonably soever urged.
This only restrayned him from pursuinge his advantage in the first
Scotts expedition, when humanely speakinge, he might have reduced that
Nation to the most slavish obedyence that could have bene wished,
but no man can say, he had then many who advized him to it, but the
contrary, by a wounderfull indisposition all his Councell had to
fightinge, or any other fatigue. He was alwayes an immoderate lover of
the Scottish nation, havinge not only bene borne ther, but educated by
that people and besiedged by them alwayes, havinge few English aboute
him till he was kinge, and the major number of his servants beinge
still of those, who he thought could never fayle him, and then no
man had such an ascendent over him, by the lowest and humblest
insinuations, as Duke Hambleton had.
As he excelled in all other virtues, so in temperance he was so
stricte that he abhorred all deboshry to that degree, that at a greate
festivall solemnity wher he once was, when very many of the nobility
of the English and Scotts were entertayned, he was[1] told by one who
withdrew from thence, what vast draughts of wine they dranke, and
that ther was one Earle who had dranke most of the rest downe and was
not himselfe mooved or altred, the kinge sayd that he deserved to
be hanged, and that Earle comminge shortly into the roome wher his
Majesty was, in some gayty to shew how unhurte he was from that
battle, the kinge sent one to bidd him withdraw from his Majestys
presence, nor did he in some dayes after appeare before the kinge.
Ther were so many miraculous circumstances contributed to his ruine,
that men might well thinke that heaven and earth conspired it, and
that the starres designed it, though he was from the first declension
of his power, so much betrayed by his owne servants, that there were
very few who remayned faythfull to him; yett that trechery proceeded
not from any treasonable purpose to do him any harme, but from
particular and personall animosityes against other men; and afterwards
the terrour all men were under of the Parliament and the guilte they
were conscious of themselves, made them watch all opportunityes to
make themselves gratious to those who could do them good, and so they
became spyes upon ther master, and from one piece of knavery, were
hardned and confirmed to undertake another, till at last they had no
hope of præservation but by the destruction of ther master; And after
all this, when a man might reasonably believe, that lesse then a
universall defection of three nations, could not have reduced a greate
kinge to so ugly a fate, it is most certayne that in that very howre
when he was thus wickedly murthered in the sight of the sunn, he had
as greate a share in the heartes and affections of his subjects in
generall, was as much beloved, esteemed and longed for by the people
in generall of the three nations, as any of his predecessors had ever
bene. To conclude, he was the worthyest gentleman, the best master,
the best frende, the best husbande, the best father, and the best
Christian, that the Age in which he lyved had produced, and if he was
not the best kinge, if he was without some parts and qualityes which
have made some kings greate and happy, no other Prince was ever
unhappy, who was possessed of half his virtues and indowments, and so
much without any kinde of vice.
[Footnote 1: 'he was' altered to 'being' in ed. 1792.]
16.
By SIR PHILIP WARWICK.
He was a person, tho' born sickly, yet who came thro' temperance and
exercise, to have as firm and strong a body, as most persons I ever
knew, and throughout all the fatigues of the warr, or during his
imprisonment, never sick. His appetite was to plain meats, and tho'
he took a good quantity thereof, yet it was suitable to an easy
digestion. He seldom eat of above three dishes at most, nor drank
above thrice: a glasse of small beer, another of claret wine, and
the last of water; he eat suppers as well as dinners heartily; but
betwixt meales, he never medled with any thing. Fruit he would eat
plentifully, and with this regularity, he moved as steddily, as a star
follows its course. His deportment was very majestick; for he would
not let fall his dignity, no not to the greatest Forraigners, that
came to visit him and his Court; for tho' he was farr from pride,
yet he was carefull of majestie, and would be approacht with respect
and reverence. His conversation was free, and the subject matter of
it (on his own side of the Court) was most commonly rational; or if
facetious, not light. With any Artist or good Mechanick, Traveller, or
Scholar he would discourse freely; and as he was commonly improved by
them, so he often gave light to them in their own art or knowledge.
For there were few Gentlemen in the world, that knew more of useful
or necessary learning, than this Prince did: and yet his proportion of
books was but small, having like Francis the first of France, learnt
more by the ear, than by study. His way of arguing was very civil and
patient; for he seldom contradicted another by his authority, but
by his reason: nor did he by any petulant dislike quash another's
arguments; and he offered his exception by this civill introduction,
_By your favour, Sir, I think otherwise on this or that ground_: yet
he would discountenance any bold or forward addresse unto him. And
in suits or discourse of busines he would give way to none abruptly
to enter into them, but lookt, that the greatest Persons should in
affairs of this nature addresse to him by his proper Ministers, or
by some solemn desire of speaking to him in their own persons. His
exercises were manly; for he rid the great horse very well; and on
the little saddle he was not only adroit, but a laborious hunter or
field-man: and they were wont to say of him, that he fail'd not to do
any of his exercises artificially, but not very gracefully; like some
well-proportion'd faces, which yet want a pleasant air of countenance.
He had a great plainnes in his own nature, and yet he was thought even
by his Friends to love too much a versatile man; but his experience
had thorowly weaned him from this at last.
He kept up the dignity of his Court, limiting persons to places
suitable to their qualities, unless he particularly call'd for them.
Besides the women, who attended on his beloved Queen and Consort, he
scarce admitted any great Officer to have his wife in the family. Sir
Henry Vane was the first, that I knew in that kind, who having a good
dyet as Comptroller of the Houshold, and a tenuity of fortune, was
winkt at; so as the Court was fill'd, not cramm'd. His exercises of
Religion were most exemplary; for every morning early, and evening not
very late, singly and alone, in his own bed-chamber or closet he spent
some time in private meditation: (for he durst reflect and be alone)
and thro' the whole week, even when he went a hunting, he never
failed, before he sat down to dinner, to have part of the Liturgy read
unto him and his menial servants, came he never so hungry, or so late
in: and on Sundays and Tuesdays he came (commonly at the beginning of
Service) to the Chappell, well attended by his Court-Lords, and chief
Attendants, and most usually waited on by many of the Nobility in
town, who found those observances acceptably entertain'd by him. His
greatest enemies can deny none of this; and a man of this moderation
of mind could have no hungry appetite to prey upon his subjects, tho'
he had a greatnes of mind not to live precariously by them. But when
he fell into the sharpnes of his afflictions, (than which few men
underwent sharper) I dare say, I know it, (I am sure conscientiously
I say it) tho' God dealt with him, as he did with St. Paul, not remove
the thorn, yet he made his grace sufficient to take away the pungency
of it: for he made as sanctified an use of his afflictions, as most
men ever did.
No Gentleman in his three nations, tho' there were many more learned,
(for I have supposed him but competently learned, tho' eminently
rational) better understood the foundations of his own Church, and the
grounds of the Reformation, than he did: which made the Pope's Nuncio
to the Queen, Signior Con, to say (both of him and Arch-Bishop Laud,
when the King had forced the Archbishop to admit a visit from, and
a conference with the Nuncio) _That when he came first to Court, he
hoped to have made great impressions there; but after he had conferr'd
with Prince and Prelate, (who never denyed him any thing frowardly or
ignorantly, but admitted all, which primitive and uncorrupted Rome for
the first 500 years had exercised_,) he declared he found, _That they
resolved to deal with his Master, the Pope, as wrestlers do with one
another, take him up to fling him down_. And therefore tho' I cannot
say, I know, that he wrote his _Icon Basilike_, or _Image_, which
goes under his own name; yet I can say, I have heard him, even unto my
unworthy selfe, say many of those things it contains: and I have bin
assur'd by Mr. Levett, (one of the Pages of his Bedchamber, and who
was with him thro' all his imprisonments) that he hath not only seen
the Manuscript of that book among his Majestie's papers at the Isle
of Wight, but read many of the chapters himselfe: and Mr. Herbert,
who by the appointment of Parliament attended him, says, he saw the
Manuscript in the King's hand, as he believed; but it was in a running
character, and not that which the King usually wrote. And whoever
reads his private and cursory letters, which he wrote unto the
Queen, and to some great men (especially in his Scotch affairs, set
down by Mr. Burnet, when he stood single, as he did thro' all his
imprisonments) the gravity and significancy of that style may assure
a misbeliever, that he had head and hand enough to express the
ejaculations of a good, pious, and afflicted heart; and Solomon says,
that _affliction gives understanding_, or elevates thoughts: and we
cannot wonder, that so royal a heart, sensible of such afflictions,
should make such a description of them, as he hath done in that book.
And tho' he was of as slow a pen, as of speech; yet both were very
significant: and he had that modest esteem of his own parts, that he
would usually say, _He would willingly make his own dispatches, but
that he found it better to be a Cobler, than a Shoomaker_. I have
bin in company with very learned men, when I have brought them their
own papers back from him, with his alterations, who ever contest his
amendments to have bin very material. And I once by his commandment
brought him a paper of my own to read, to see, whether it was suitable
unto his directions, and he disallow'd it slightingly: I desir'd him,
I might call Doctor Sanderson to aid me, and that the Doctor might
understand his own meaning from himselfe; and with his Majestie's
leave, I brought him, whilst he was walking, and taking the aire;
whereupon wee two went back; but pleas'd him as little, when wee
return'd it: for smilingly he said, _A man might have as good ware out
of a Chandler's shop_: but afterwards he set it down with his own pen
very plainly, and suitable unto his own intentions. The thing was
of that nature, (being too great an owning of the Scots, when Duke
Hamilton was in the heart of England so meanely defeated, and like
the crafty fox lay out of countenance in the hands of his enemies,)
that it chilled the Doctors ink; and when the matter came to be
communicated, those honourable Persons, that then attended him,
prevayl'd on him to decline the whole. And I remember, when his
displeasure was a little off, telling him, how severely he had dealt
in his charactering the best pen in England, Dr. Sanderson's; he told
me, he had had two Secretaries, one a dull man in comparison of the
other, and yet the first best pleas'd him: _For_, said he, _my Lord
Carleton ever brought me my own sense in my own words; but my Lord
Faulkland most commonly brought me my instructions in so fine a dress,
that I did not alwaies own them._ Which put me in mind to tell him
a story of my Lord Burleigh and his son Cecil: for Burleigh being at
Councill, and Lord Treasurer, reading an order penn'd by a new Clerk
of the Councill, who was a Wit and Scholar, he flung it downward to
the lower end of the Table to his son, the Secretary, saying, _Mr.
Secretary, you bring in Clerks of the Councill, who will corrupt the
gravity and dignity of the style of the Board_: to which the Secretary
replied, _I pray, my Lord, pardon this, for this Gentleman is not warm
in his place, and hath had so little to do, that he is wanton with his
pen: but I will put so much busines upon him, that he shall be willing
to observe your Lordship's directions._ These are so little stories,
that it may be justly thought, I am either vain, or at leasure to sett
them down; but I derive my authority from an Author, the world hath
ever reverenced, _viz_, Plutarch; who writing the lives of Alexander
the great and Julius Cesar, runs into the actions, flowing from their
particular natures, and into their private conversation, saying,
_These smaller things would discover the men, whilst their great
actions only discover the power of their States._
One or two things more then I may warrantably observe: First, as
an evidence of his natural probity, whenever any young Nobleman or
Gentleman of quality, who was going to travell, came to kiss his hand,
he cheerfully would give them some good counsel, leading to morall
virtue, especially to good conversation; telling them, that _If he
heard they kept good company abroad, he should reasonably expect, they
would return qualified to serve him and their Country well at home_;
and he was very carefull to keep the youth in his times uncorrupted.
This I find in the Mémoires upon James Duke Hamilton, was his advice
unto that noble and loyal Lord, William, afterwards, Duke Hamilton,
who so well serv'd his Son, and never perfidiously disserv'd him, when
in armes against him. Secondly, his forementioned intercepted letters
to the Queen at Naisby had this passage in them, where mentioning
religion, he said, _This is the only thing, wherein we two differ_;
which even unto a miscreant Jew would have bin proofe enough of this
King's sincerity in his religion; and had it not bin providence or
inadvertence, surely those, who had in this kind defam'd him, would
never themselves have publish'd in print this passage, which thus
justified him.
This may be truly said, That he valued the Reformation of his own
Church, before any in the world; and was as sensible and as knowing
of, and severe against, the deviations of Rome from the primitive
Church, as any Gentleman in Christendom; and beyond those errors, no
way quarrelsom towards it: for he was willing to give it its due, that
it might be brought to be willing to accept, at least to grant, such
an union in the Church, as might have brought a free and friendly
communion between Dissenters, without the one's totall quitting his
errors, or the other's being necessitated to partake therein: and I
truly believe this was the utmost both of his and his Archbishop's
inclinations; and if I may not, yet both these Martyrs confessions on
the scaffold (God avert the prophecy of the last, _Venient Romani_)
surely may convince the world, that they both dyed true Assertors of
the Reformation. And the great and learned light of this last age,
Grotius, soon discern'd this inclination in him: for in his dedication
of his immortal and scarce ever to be parallel'd book, _De Jure Belli
& Pacis_, he recommends it to Lewis XIII, King of France, as the most
Royall and Christian design imaginable for his Majestic to become a
means to make an union amongst Christians in profession of religion;
and therein he tells him, how well-knowing and well-disposed the King
of England was thereunto. In a word, had he had as daring and active
a courage to obviate danger; as he had a steddy and undaunted in all
hazardous rencounters; or had his active courage equall'd his passive,
the rebellious and tumultuous humor of those, who were disloyall to
him, probably had been quash'd in their first rise: for thro'-out the
English story it may be observed, that the souldier-like spirit in the
Prince hath bin ever much more fortunate and esteem'd, than the pious:
a Prince's awfull reputation being of much more defence to him, than
his Regall (nay Legall) edicts.
17.