STATE ENTRY OF CHARLES INTO MADRID--GREAT FESTIVITIES--HIS
LOVE-MAKING--ATTEMPTS TO CONVERT THE PRINCE--THE REAL INTENTION OF
OLIVARES--HIS CLEVER PROCRASTINATION--CHARLES AND BUCKINGHAM LOSE
PATIENCE--HOWEL'S STORY OF CHARLES AND THE INFANTA--THE FEELING AGAINST
BUCKINGHAM--ANXIETY OF KING JAMES--HIS CORRESPONDENCE WITH "BABY AND
STEENIE"--CHARLES DECIDES TO DEPART--FURTHER DELAY--THE DIPLOMACY OF
OLIVARES--BUCKINGHAM AND ARCHY ARMSTRONG--DEPARTURE OF CHARLES--HIS
RETURN HOME, AND THE ENGLISH DISILLUSION
All being ready for the public entry of Charles on Sunday, 16th, the
Prince, though he declined the invitation to sleep the previous night
at the monastery of St. Geronimo, as was customary with Spanish
sovereigns who entered the capital in state, went thither early in the
morning, and was entertained at a sumptuous banquet by the Count
Gondomar, as near as he could manage it in English fashion. Then, as
was also the usage with Spanish sovereigns, all the members of the
numerous Councils and juntas rode in full state, accompanied by their
officers and escorts, to pay their respects to the Prince. Charles
received this glittering crowd, numbering some hundreds, standing by a
velvet-covered {87} table beneath a canopy of silver tissue in the
royal apartment of the monastery, the empty throne being behind him,
and the walls of the chambers covered with rich hangings and pictures,
amongst which were portraits of King James and his councillors. As
each pompously named official knelt and begged permission to kiss the
Prince's hand, Charles gracefully threw his arms upon their shoulders
instead, and raised them from the ground.[1] The impression generally
produced by the Prince now and during his stay was excellent, and it
was noticed throughout that he never took advantage, as Buckingham and
the crowd of noisy English courtiers who soon arrived in Spain did, of
the Spanish politeness which places everything at the disposal of a
guest. The behaviour of these courtiers, indeed, and especially
Buckingham's insolence, very soon produced disgust amongst the grave,
courteous Spaniards.
[Sidenote: The state entry]
At midday, when the councils had retired and taken their places on the
line of route, a flourish of drums and pipes heralded the coming of the
Spanish Guard in orange and scarlet to the monastery, followed by the
German Guard, in crimson satin and gold with white sleeves and plumed
caps; {88} then came the municipality of Madrid, with a great following
of town officers dressed in orange satin with silver spangles. Nobles
and princes followed in pairs, led by Prince Edward of Portugal and the
Count of Villamor, each pair of high gentlemen resplendent in satin,
velvet and gold, jingling and flashing on their showy Andalusian
horses. Following these and a hundred other ostentatious groups, the
mention of which would fill pages, King Philip left his palace as the
great clock in the courtyard--one of the marvels of Madrid--struck the
hour of one, and reached a side door of the monastery in his coach by a
circuitous route. Until three o'clock Charles and Philip chatted in
friendly converse, and then the signal was given for the cortege to
start, the King and Prince mounting their horses at the same moment.
The drums, pipes, clarionets, and trumpets led off followed by judges,
officials, courtiers, and nobles, heralds, guards, pages, lacqueys, and
grooms by the hundred, upon whose grand dresses Soto y Aguilar dwells
with tedious minuteness. Then came the King and the Prince, under a
canopy of white damask and gold, mounted upon silver poles borne by six
officers of the corporation, the Prince riding on the right hand of his
host. They must have looked a gallant pair, for they were mere youths,
and both fine horsemen. Olivares and Buckingham side by side followed
them, and then came a great troop of Spanish grandees with the English
ambassadors and officers. Through the streets, decked lavishly, and
crowded with cheering people, flattered at the coming conversion of
England by means of Spain the cavalcade rode {89} by the Puerta del Sol
and Calle Mayor to the ancient Alcazar upon the cliff, which looks
across the arid plain to the snow-capped Guadarramas. On the line of
route national dances and the eternal comedies were played until the
Prince approached, when special dances were performed in his honour, at
which, we are told, he was much delighted. Upon entering the palace
the King himself conveyed the Prince to his apartments, and surpassed
himself in courtly welcome to his guest; and that same night the Queen
sent to the Prince a great present of white linen for table use and
personal wear, with a rich dressing gown and toilet paraphernalia in a
scented casket with gold keys.[2] It was all as Howel wrote, "a very
glorious sight to behold, for the custom of the Spaniard is, tho' he go
plain in his ordinary habit, yet upon some great festival or cause of
triumph there's none goes beyond him in gaudiness."[3]
The next day the municipality of Madrid celebrated a royal bull-fight
on a scale of magnificence rarely approached. The great Plaza Mayor of
Madrid, 340 feet square, was surrounded by stagings, and every one of
the hundreds of balconies of the high houses overlooking the plaza was
hung with crimson silk and gold, and filled with noblemen and ladies
whose names were as splendid as the clothes, of which Solo y Aguilar[4]
spares us no detail. The royal balcony was erected on the first floor
of the municipal bakery (still standing), {90} and must have been a
mass of crimson and cloth of gold, with its hangings, its canopies, its
curtains, and its balustrades. Every council and board, and under
Olivares they were infinite, had its special tribune. Nobles,
officials, officers, and foreign representatives, all of whose fine
garb the literary quarter-master details for us until his description
produces but a vague impression of sumptuous stuffs without end,
smothered in bullion, arrived in procession to occupy their places as
spectators or actors in the glittering show. The English visitors were
accommodated in a special stand occupying the opening of the Street of
Bitterness (Calle de Amargura), which gave rise to much satirical
comment. When all was ready, and around the vast plaza a packed mass
of bedizened humanity had assembled, the royal coaches entered and
drove around the arena to the central entrance of the Queen's balcony
before the bakehouse. Here Isabel alighted, dressed, we are told, like
the Infanta, who accompanied her, in brown silk embroidered with gold,
and covered with gems, the plumes of their jaunty toques being white
and brown, sprinkled with diamonds. With them came the two Infantes,
Carlos, in black velvet and gold, with diamond chains and buttons, and
the boy Cardinal Infante Fernando, in the purple of his ecclesiastical
rank. Behind them came scores of ladies, and then officers of the
Guards, and finally a "great company of Spanish and English gentlemen,
courtiers, grandees, and attendants."
The Prince of Wales was very beautifully dressed in black with white
plumes, and was mounted on {91} a bright bay horse, whilst the King,
also in sober brown, for it was Lent, rode a silver grey charger, "both
horses showing by their majestic port that they were conscious of the
preciousness of their burdens." After them rode the Admiral of England
(_i.e._ Buckingham) and the Count of Olivares, with the English
ambassador, councillors of state, gentlemen-in-waiting, and archers of
the guard.... The Queen and Infanta sat in the right-hand balcony, and
separated only by a rail from them in the next balcony were Don Carlos,
the King, the Prince of Wales, and the Cardinal Infante Don Fernando;
the Marquis of Buckingham, the Count of Olivares, and the other English
and Spanish gentlemen being in the balcony on the left. The trumpets
sounded, and when a hundred lacqueys, in brown jerkins and floating
silver ribbons, had cleared the arena, the Duke of Cea pranced in on a
grey horse, preceded by fifty lacqueys in doublets of cloth of silver
and fawn-coloured breeches, wearing silver thread caps, and followed by
a group of famous bull-fighters. The Duke bowed low before the royal
balcony, whereupon Prince Charles uncovered. Then came the Duke of
Maqueda, with his gallant party, who performed the same courtly
ceremony as the Duke of Cea, "looking like a Cæsar," as Soto y Aguilar
says. And so noble after noble, each with his glittering train of
mounted gentlemen and host of servants, passed before the King and his
English guest, until, in the written description of the scene, gorgeous
fabrics, fine colours, and precious metals seem to lose their separate
significance, so lavish is the repetition of them.
{92}
Then came the many bulls, each despatched by a grandee's spear
(_rejon_); many hairbreadth escapes being recorded, but no noble
killed. When the feast was ended the rain was falling heavily, and we
are told by the courtly chronicler "that amidst the falling torrents
there fell a torrent of pages with torches who inundated with light the
realms of darkness." It would be tedious to give particulars of the
many such shows provided for Prince Charles, but at one subsequent
bullfight, more splendid still, described by Soto, no less than twenty
bulls were done to death by noble bull-fighters on horseback, and
prodigality itself ran riot to show the English Prince how rich Spain
was.
For three days more the rejoicings of the State entry of Charles went
on day and night: comedies, music, cane tourneys, and illumination and
fireworks continuing without cessation. Even Buckingham was dazzled,
extravagant as he was, and he says in his letter to the King--
They "made their entry with as great a triumph as could be, where he
(Philip) forced your Baby (Charles) to ride on his right hand.... This
entry was made just as when the Kings of Castile came first to the
crown, all prisoners set at liberty, and no office nor matter of grace
falls but is put into your Baby's hands to dispose of.... We had
almost forgotten to tell you that the first thing they did at their
arrival in the palace was to visit the Queen, where grew a quarrel
between your Baby and lady for want of a salutation; but your dog's
(_i.e._ Buckingham's) opinion is that it is an artificial forced
quarrel to beget hereafter greater kindness."
{93}
[Sidenote: Charles in love]
But in this letter, written the day after the state entry, when the
municipality were offering as a present to Buckingham the costly canopy
that had served in the ceremony,[5] the flustered visitors forgot to
tell the King how his "Baby" liked the Infanta, whom he had now seen at
close quarters for the first time, and a hurried little note was
scribbled and enclosed with the letter just quoted, saying--
"Baby Charles himself is so touched at the heart that he confesses that
all he ever saw is nothing to her[6] (_i.e._ the Infanta), and swears
that if he want her there shall be blows. I (Buckingham) shall lose no
time in hastening their conjunction, in which I shall please him, her,
you, and myself most of all, in thereby getting liberty to make the
speedier haste to lay myself at your feet; for never none longed more
to be in the arms of his mistress. So, craving your blessing, I end,
your humble slave and dog, Steenie."[7]
But withal the negotiations got no nearer. The dispensation still
tarried in Rome, and Olivares staved off all definite discussion, on
the lying {94} pretext that he did not know upon what the Pope would
insist. To keep things going and beguile the English, the Count-Duke
persuaded Charles to listen to a disputation in the monastery of St.
Geronimo as to the truth of the Catholic religion, and set all the most
persuasive clerics of the Court upon the task of converting the English
Prince. An English priest named Wallsfort (?) was specially charged to
tackle Buckingham, in conjunction with Friar Francisco de Jesus, the
King's preacher; but, as may be supposed, with little success, though
they asserted that Buckingham, though a heretic for political reasons,
was really a Catholic at heart. But when the great attempt was made to
bring to bear all the priestly artillery in Madrid upon the Prince's
Protestantism, and Charles showed some signs of acquiescence in the
Catholic arguments,[8] Buckingham put his foot down firmly, and rudely
told Olivares he should not allow the Prince to continue the
discussion, to which Olivares retorted by warning him that any attempt
to introduce the Protestant chaplains from England into the Prince's
apartment in the palace would be resisted by force,[9] for all their
pretence that the {95} rites they used were similar to those of Rome.
Charles, indeed, flattered himself with the idea that he had half
converted the Infanta's confessor, Rahosa,[10] though certainly no
signs appear of it in the subsequent actions of the priest. In every
diocese in Spain, too, orders were given that religious processions,
rogations, and penitential exercises should be celebrated in all
churches and convents, in supplication to God for the fortunate issue
of the negotiations for the marriage, which, of course, meant the
conversion of the Prince and his country, whilst ecclesiastics were
bombarding the King and Olivares with solemn addresses, denouncing the
idea of the marriage of the Infanta to any Prince not a devout Catholic.
[Sidente: Attempts at conversion]
It is fair to say that Olivares, whilst professing platonically an
ardent desire for the match, never attempted to disguise that it would
only be conceded on terms quite impossible for England. The
self-deception was indeed entirely on the part of Buckingham and the
Englishmen of Catholic leanings whose hopes prompted the belief. From
the first no pretence was made on the Spanish side of trusting to the
word, or even the oath, of King James; the Spaniards knew him too well.
Deeds must precede words, repeated Olivares again and again. The
Catholics of England must have full toleration, and Parliament must
repeal the Penal Acts of Elizabeth against them before the Infanta left
Spain. James was ready to promise much, and did promise much at
various times, though not so much as Buckingham; but it was clear that
he could not coerce the English {96} Parliament into a course of action
that would have made his crown not worth a week's purchase; and, charm
as he and Buckingham might, the Spaniards never budged an inch on the
main point, amiable and flattering as they were to Charles, in the
hope, probably, that some solid concession to the English Catholics
might be wrung from his father, in any case, as a preliminary to the
more than problematical marriage.
It is impossible in this book to follow the daily changing phases of
the negotiations through the many months that the Prince stayed in
Madrid, but some accounts, contained in the correspondence and other
contemporary manuscripts, of the manner in which he and his followers
passed their time at Court, will convey the best idea of the dexterity
with which Olivares beguiled and befooled the Prince and his advisers
into the position which threw upon them the onus of a rupture, whilst
the Spaniards appeared to be only too anxious for the marriage and for
the friendship of England.
Charles usually spent his afternoons with Philip or Olivares,
witnessing fencing bouts or other sports from a window in the palace,
or walking in the garden, or in hunting the boar or hawking; and though
he did not accompany the King and Court in their frequent visits to the
Discalced Carmelite convent, or to the other religious houses where
celebrations were held he often saw the processions from closed
jalousies, or through the drawn leather curtains of a coach. The
mornings were passed in studying Spanish or writing, and in the evening
he frequently visited the royal family, where, on a few occasions, the
Infanta was present. {97} One such visit, on Easter Day 1623, is thus
described in Bristol's diary[11]--
"In the morning the Prince sent to desire leave to repay the visit and
the _buenas pascuas_ he had received the day before, and was
accordingly appointed about four o'clock in the afternoon to be brought
up by a private way to the King, with whom, when he had been a short
space and performed that compliment, he intimated a desire to do the
like to the Queen, and was presently conducted by the King, who
accompanied him publicly, attended by all the grandees and great
ministers of the Court, from his own side of the square, which is on
the opposite side of the palace (to the Queen's), and there found the
Queen and the Infanta together, attended by all the ladies of the
Court. This being the first time that his Highness had personally
visited the Infanta, there were four chairs set: in the middlemost sat
the Queen and the Infanta, on the right hand of the Queen sat the
Prince, and on the left of them all sat the King. When the Prince had
given the Queen the _buenas pascuas_ (_i.e._ compliments of the
season), and passed some other compliments of gratitude for the favours
he had received from her since his coming to this Court, in which it
pleased his Highness to call me (_i.e._ Bristol) to do him service as
interpreter, he rose out of his chair and went towards the Infanta, who
likewise rose to entertain (_i.e._ to receive) him; and, after fitting
courtesies on both sides performed, the Prince {98} told her that the
great friendship which was between his Catholic Majesty and the King
his father, had brought him to this Court to make a personal
acknowledgment thereof, and to assure, for his part, the desire he had
to continue and increase the same, and that he was glad on this
occasion to kiss her Highness's hands and offer her his services. To
which the Infanta answered, that she did highly esteem what the Prince
had said unto her. His Highness then told her that he had been
troubled to understand that of late she had not been in perfect health,
and asked her how she had passed the Lent, and how she did now,
whereunto the Infanta answered: "_Que quedava buena á servicio de su
Alteza_ (that she was now well, and at his Highness's service). The
Prince then retired himself to his chair and sat down again by the
Queen, with whom he passed some short compliments, and so they all
rose, and with much courtesy took their leaves.
[Sidenote: Charles's lovemaking]
"And I do assure you (_i.e._ Mr. Secretary Conway, to whom the diary
was sent) that in all things the Prince's comportment was so natural
and suitable to his quality and greatness, that he hath given instant
cause to the Spaniards to admire him, as I find they generally do.
From hence he was conducted by the King in the same equipage that he
had come thither unto the King's side, where, when the King had
entertained his Highness awhile with beholding from a window certain
masters and gentlemen exercising fencing before them, the King had him
to another window which looketh upon a large place before the
court-gate, and, telling the Prince that he would only go and {99} see
the Queen, took his brother, Don Carlos, with him, and left the Infante
Cardinal with the Prince, expecting his return.
"But before much time had passed there appeared about three score of
the principal nobility of the kingdom in the gallery (_i.e._ course)
before the window, who were very richly apparelled with embroideries,
and being on horseback came two and two together their several careers.
They all had their faces uncovered save only the King, Don Carlos, the
Count of Olivares, and the Marquis of Carpio, who wore vizards."[12]
The extremely slow courtship here described seems to have struck
Charles as unsatisfactory, and a few weeks afterwards, probably
encouraged by the general laxity and freedom he saw about him in the
intercourse of the sexes, the Prince seriously violated the royal
etiquette by an attempt to make love to the Infanta in less formal
fashion. Howel tells the story in a letter to Tom Porter:
"Not long since the Prince, understanding that the Infanta was used to
go some mornings to the _Casa de Campo_, a summer-house the King hath
on t'other side of the river, to gather May-dew, he rose {100} betimes
and went thither, taking your brother (_i.e._ Endymion Porter) with
him. They were let into the house, and so into the garden; but the
Infanta was in the orchard, there being a high partition-wall between,
and the door, doubly bolted, the Prince got on the top of the wall and
sprung down a great height, and so made towards her. But she, spying
him first of all the rest, gave a shriek and ran back. The old marquis
that was then her guardian came towards the Prince and fell on his
knees, conjuring his Highness to retire, in regard that he hazarded his
head if he admitted any to her company. So the door was opened, and he
came out under that wall over which he had got in. I have seen him
watch a long hour together in a close coach in the open street to see
her as she went abroad. I cannot say that the Prince did ever talk
with her privately, yet publicly often, my Lord of Bristol being
interpreter; but the King sat hard by, to overhear all. Our cousin
Archy (_i.e._ Archy Armstrong, King James's jester, who had joined
Charles in Madrid with a large number of English courtiers) hath more
privileges than any, for he often goes with his fool's coat where the
Infanta is with her _meninas_ (maids) and ladies of honour, and keeps
a'blowing and blustering among them, and slurts out what he lists."[13]
Festivities kept Charles well occupied; and; now that his father's
courtiers had joined him {101} with full baggage, he could play the
Prince more effectively than on his first arrival. King James, indeed,
seems to have imagined that by gifts and ostentation he could carry the
point he had at heart,[14] though in one of his letters to his "sweet
boys" he says that "for the honour of England he had curtailed the
train of courtiers that went by sea of a number of rascals." Those who
went, however, behaved very badly, and did little to {102} raise
Spanish opinion of English nobles generally. Buckingham was accused of
having introduced bad company even into the palace, and to have behaved
outrageously to the women who acted on the stage during a comedy. "For
outward usage" (writes Howel in July), "there is all industry used to
give the Prince and his servants all possible contentment, and some of
the King's own servants wait upon them at table in the palace, where I
am sorry to hear some of them jeer at the Spanish fare, and use other
slighting speeches and demeanour."[15] Worst of all, many of these
fine gallants went out of their way to offend Spanish religious
susceptibilities; and Howel mentions one such case which nearly led to
grave trouble. One of the Prince's pages, Mr. Washington, had died of
fever, and before his death an English priest named Ballard visited
him, in the hope of converting him. Sir Edmund Verney met the priest
on the stairs, and attacked him, first with words and then with blows.
"The business was like to gather very ill blood and to come to a great
height, had not Count Gondomar quashed it; which I believe he could not
have done unless the times had been favourable, for such is the
reverence they bear to the Church here, and so holy a conceit have they
of all ecclesiastics, that the greatest Don in Spain will tremble to
offer the meanest of them any outrage or affront. Count Gondomar hath
also helped to free some English that were in the Inquisition in Toledo
and Seville, and I could allege {103} many instances how ready and
cheerful he is to assist any Englishman whatsoever, notwithstanding the
base affronts he hath often received from the London boys.[16] I heard
a merry saying of his to the Queen, who, discoursing with him of the
greatness of London, and whether it was as populous as Madrid: "Yes,
madam," he said, "and more populous when I came away, though I believe
there's scarce a man left now, but all women and children, for all the
men both in court and city were ready booted and spurred to go away."
[Sidenote: English courtiers in Madrid]
Madrid was not quite so full of English courtiers as that, though their
presence was conspicuous and assertive enough at Court. At the weekly
representation of the comedies in the palace, only the royal party were
provided with chairs; the ladies, in the usual Spanish Court fashion,
being seated on cushions on the floor, and the gentlemen standing
behind the royal family. This did not suit either Buckingham or the
most ostentatious nobleman of his time, the upstart Hay, Earl of
Carlisle, and they both fumed and fretted at what they considered a
slight upon them. Buckingham, of course, was obliged to stay, but Hay
and many others of the insolent crew left Madrid in dudgeon before the
great heats came on. Hay, indeed, found it extremely difficult to
obtain audience of the Infanta, whom the English already called
Princess of Wales; and when, after much importunity, he was admitted,
"he was brought into a room where the Infanta was placed on a throne
{104} aloft, gloriously set forth with her ladies about her: my lord,
with his compliments, motions, and approaches, could not draw from her
so much as the least nod, she remaining all the while as immovable as
the image of the Virgin Mary.... At his coming away the Infanta gave
him leave to kneel to her above an hour, whereupon our great ladies
begin to consult how they shall demean herself when she comes."[17]
[Sidenote: Marriage negotiations]
During the whole of the spring, matters in Madrid remained thus, the
arrival of the dispensation being constantly delayed, whilst England
was being every day more deeply pledged to an impossible policy by the
folly of Buckingham and Charles and the eagerness of King James. James
had made the fatal mistake--after saying, through Bristol, that the
Pope's dispensation meant nothing whatever to him--of sending agents,
Father Gage particularly, to Rome to negotiate for the dispensation to
be modified and expedited, and he showed himself more squeezable on the
religious point at every turn of the negotiation. "As for myself," he
wrote to his son and Buckingham late in March, "I would with all my
heart give my consent that the Bishop of Rome should have the first
seat. I, being a western King, would go with the Patriarch of the
West. And as for his temporal seigniory of Rome I do not quarrel with
that either. Let him, in God's name, be _primus episcopus inter omnes
episcopos, et princeps episcoporum_, so it be no otherwise but as St.
Peter was _princeps episcoporum_." So confident were they all that no
serious hitch would stand in the way of the wedding {105} at last, that
the fleet which was intended to carry back the Infanta and her husband
to England was ready to sail for Spain in April, and the silly doting
King was busy settling the smallest details of the voyage for the
comfort of his "sweet boys."
At length, late in April, news came to Madrid that the dispensation was
on its way to Spain, but "clogged" with new guarantees and conditions
in favour of English Catholics, which Buckingham still thought he could
avoid granting, and asked that the English fleet should be sent to
Corunna at once to convey them back triumphant with the Infanta. They
soon found that matters were not so easily settled, for, as we know
now, Olivares was determined that no marriage should take place, and a
device for delay was easily found in the assembly of a commission of
divines at St. Geronimo to discuss how far the conditions of the
dispensation might be modified. Buckingham conceived the extraordinary
plan of asking James to give a blank commission to his son, and Charles
accordingly wrote to his father to send him the following pledge signed
by his own hand: "_We do hereby promise by the word of a King that
whatsoever you, our son, shall promise in our name we shall punctually
perform_." "Sir, I confess," wrote the Prince, "that this is an ample
trust; and if it were not mere necessity I should not be so bold"; and
Buckingham accompanied the Prince's letter by a note that he knew would
touch the King. "This letter of your son's is written out of an
extraordinary desire to be soon with you again. He thinks if you sign
thus much, though they would be glad (which he doth not yet discover)
{106} to make any further delay, this will disappoint them. The
discretion of your Baby you need not doubt."[18] Needless to say, the
weak King sent the power as requested, in order, as he wrote, "that ye
may speedily and happily return and light in the arms of your dear Dad."
Provided with this unlimited pledge, the Prince and Buckingham,
assisted by Bristol, Aston, and Cottington, met a commission appointed
by Philip. For weeks the discussions continued. In vain the English
pointed out the impossibility of acceding to the demands that religious
toleration in England should be decreed forthwith, and that the consent
of the English Parliament should be obtained within a year or so for
the abrogation of all the penal laws against English Catholics, with
the many other points which were now insisted upon by the Pope for the
first time. The Pope had even written a letter direct to Charles,
urging his immediate conversion; and Charles had further compromised
himself by answering it in a way which, although vague, would have
caused, if it had been known, intense indignation in England. As the
English negotiators advanced, Olivares retired, whilst Buckingham
became daily more impatient and angry, throwing the blame now entirely
upon the Count-Duke.[19]
At length, at the end of May, Buckingham came to an open quarrel with
Olivares, and threatened to leave with the Prince at once and abandon
the negotiation. This angry departure did not {107} suit the
Spaniards; and, after much protest and entreaty on the part of Philip
and Olivares, it was agreed that the Prince should stay in Madrid at
least until King James was made acquainted with the point insisted
upon, and sent his instructions; although, after having consented to
remain, Charles, seeing the persistent attempts to put pressure upon
him to marry at once on the Pope's conditions, endeavoured to withdraw
his promise altogether and retire. Eventually, however, the cajolery
of Olivares prevailed, and Cottington went off post haste to England,
carrying with him the details of the Spanish papal demands. In the
letter written by Charles and Buckingham to James, and taken by
Cottington, they still express a hope that he may accede to the terms,
though they dared not do so themselves without his consent.
"Dear Dad and Gossip," this letter runs, "the Pope having written a
courteous letter to me, your Baby, I have been bold to write to him an
answer.... We make no doubt but to have the opinions of the busy
divines reversed (for already the Count of Olivares hath put out ten of
the worst), so that your Majesty will be pleased to begin to put in
execution the favour towards your Roman Catholic subjects, and ye will
be bound by your oath as soon as the Infanta comes over, which we hope
you will do for the hastening of us home, with this protestation to
reverse all, if there be any delay in the marriage. We send you here
the articles as they are to go, the oaths, public and private, that you
and your Baby are to {108} take, with the councils, wherein if you
scare at the least clause of your private oath (where you promise that
the Parliament shall revoke all penal laws against the Papists within
three years), we thought good to tell your Majesty our opinion, which
is that if you think you may do it in that time (which we think you may
if you do your best), although it take not effect, you have not broken
your word, for this promise is only security that you will do your
best. The Spanish ambassador for respect of the Pope will present to
you the articles as they came from Rome, as likewise to require that
the delivery of the Infanta may be deferred till the spring.... We
both humbly beg of your Majesty that you will confirm these articles
soon, and press earnestly for our speedy return."[20]
King James was in despair when he received this letter and Cottington's
intelligence. Olivares had cleverly turned the whole negotiation on
the acceptance by the English of the religious demands, and had
remained quite unpledged as to the restoration of the Palatinate, which
was the thing nearest to James' heart. The reply of the King is too
characteristic for compression, and is here reproduced entire.
"My sweet Boys, your letter by Cottington hath strucken me dead! I
fear it shall very much shorten my days, and I am more perplexed that I
know not how to satisfy the people's expectation here; neither know I
what to say to our Council, for the fleet that staid upon a wind {109}
this fortnight. Rutland and all abroad must now be staid, and I know
not what reason I shall pretend for doing it. But as for my advice and
directions that ye crave in case they will not alter their decree, it
is, in a word, to come speedily away, if ye can get leave, and give
over all treaty. And this I speak without respect of any security they
may offer, except ye never look to see your old Dad again, whom I fear
ye shall never see if ye see him not before winter. Alas! I now
repent me sore that ever I suffered you to go away. I care for match,
nor nothing, so I may once have you in my arms again. God grant it!
God grant it! God grant it! Amen, amen, amen! I protest ye shall be
as heartily welcome as if ye had done all things ye went for, so that I
may once more have you in my arms again, and God bless you both, my
sweet son and my only best sweet servant, and let me hear from you
quickly with all speed as ye love my life; and so God send you a happy,
joyful meeting in the arms of your dear Dad.--
JAMES R.
GREENWICH, 14 _June_ 1623."
The poor King was nearer to his difficulties than was Buckingham, for
Archbishop Abbott and the English Puritan divines were becoming
clamorous at all this coquetting with the Scarlet Lady, and to have
conceded openly a half of the papal demands as payment for the Spanish
match would have meant a revolution in England. In the meanwhile
Charles and Buckingham continued their struggle to get the conditions
modified; whilst Olivares, supported by his theologians, still {110}
insisted that the marriage might be celebrated conditionally in Madrid,
to be confirmed at some future time when the measures in favour of the
English Catholics had been put into operation.
The events of the next few weeks are related by the Spanish
authority,[21] very differently from the version given by the Prince
and Buckingham to King James. The Spaniards aver that Charles'
counter-proposals and amendments were considered exhaustively by the
various commissions, and unhesitatingly rejected, the Prince, in his
final interview with Olivares on the subject, when the answer was given
to him, signifying his intention to return to England at once, and
requesting an audience to take leave of the King. The Prince is
represented by the Spaniards to have asked Bristol to draw up for him a
valedictory address which he might read to Philip, but when Lord
Bristol submitted his draft the Prince expressed dissatisfaction with
it, and said that he would trust to the inspiration of the moment and
take leave of the King in his own words. The leave-taking was fixed
for the 17th July, in the evening, and when Charles, with Buckingham
and the whole of his train, were in the presence of Philip, to the
intense astonishment and dismay of Bristol, the Prince expressed his
intention of accepting the conditions laid down by the Spaniards with
regard to religion, and said that he would, in his father's name, give
due security for their fulfilment. Couriers were sent post haste to
Rome to obtain the Pope's final consent to the slightly modified
conditions accepted by Charles; and for a time {111} the Spanish Court
ostensibly regarded the marriage as irrevocably fixed.
This is the story as told by the Spaniards, and it is probably not far
from the truth; but in the letters to King James[22] the Prince and
Buckingham naturally represent the conditions they accepted as being an
important modification of the previous Spanish demands, which, so far
as can be seen, they were not. On the very day when the reconsidered
conditions were first handed to Charles, and, according to the Spanish
story, rejected, he and Buckingham wrote to King James. (26th June-6th
July.)
"DEAR DAD AND GOSSIP,--Though late, yet at last we have gotten the
articles drawn up in the forms we sent you by Lord Rochford, without
any new addition or alteration. The foolery of the Conde de Olivares
hath been the cause of this long delay, who would willingly against
thee have pulled it out of the junta's and Council's hands and put it
into a wrangling lawyer's, a favourite of his, who, like himself, had
not only put it into odious form, but had slipped in a multitude of new
unreasonable, undemanded, and ungranted conditions, which the Council
yielded unto merely out of fear; for when we met the junta they did not
make one answer to our many objections, but confessed with blushing
faces that we had more than reason on our side; and concluded with us
that the same oath should serve which passed between Queen Mary and
King Philip (II.) being put to the end of every article which is to be
sworn {112} to. By this you may guess the little favour with which
they proceed with us, first delaying us as long as they possibly can,
then, when things are concluded, they throw in new particulars in hope
that they will pass, out of our desire to make haste. But when our
business is done we shall joy in it the more that we have overcome so
many difficulties, and in the meantime we expect pity at your hands.
But for the love of God and our business let nothing fall from you to
discover anything of this, and comfort yourself that all will end well
to your contentment and honour. Our return now will depend upon your
quick despatch of these, for we thank God we find the heats such here
that we may well travel both evenings and mornings. The divines have
not yet recalled their sentence, but the Conde tells us that he hath
converted very many of them, yet keeps his old form in giving us no
hope of anything till the business speaks it itself. But we dare say
they dare not break it upon this, nor, we think, upon any other, except
the affairs of Christendom should smile strangely upon them."
How completely Olivares had outwitted them is plain by this letter. He
still insisted verbally upon the whole of the pretensions originally
formulated, but had by subtle hints led them into the self-deceiving
condition displayed by their fatuous words in the letter just quoted.
A few hours only after the above letter was written, the courier Crofts
arrived in Madrid with King James' peremptory order for his son to
return, printed on page 109. With this order in {113} their hands,
Charles and Buckingham thought to bring matters to a crisis, and, as
they say, told Olivares with a sad face that the King of England had
ordered them to return immediately. How, they asked him, could they
obey the command without sacrificing the marriage?
"His answer was that there were two good ways to do the business and
one ill one. The two good ones were either with your Baby's
conversion, or to do it with trust, putting all things freely with the
Infanta into our hands. The ill one was to bargain and stick upon
conditions as long as they could. As for the first (_i.e._ conversion)
we had utterly rejected it; and, for the second, he confessed that if
he were King he would do it; and, as he is, it lay in his power to do
it: but he cast many doubts, lest he should hereafter suffer for it if
it should not succeed. The last he confessed impossible, since your
command was so peremptory. To conclude, he left us with a promise to
consider it; and when I, your dog (_i.e._ Buckingham) conveyed him to
the door, he bade me cheer up my heart, and your Baby's, both. Our
opinion is the longest time we can stay here is a month, and not that
neither without bringing the Infanta with us. If we find ourselves
sure of that, look for us sooner. Whichever of these resolutions be
taken, you shall hear from us shortly, that you may in that time give
order for the fleet. We must once more entreat your Majesty to make
all the haste you can to return those papers confirmed, and in the
meantime give order for the execution of all these things (_i.e._ the
abrogation of {114} all penal enactments against Catholics, and the
granting of religious toleration, etc.), and let us here know so
much."[23]
The next night Charles sent for Olivares, and asked him what advice he
had to give him. The matter was still under discussion, replied the
minister; and two or three days more would have to be given before King
Philip could send his final decision. Charles and Buckingham demurred
at further delay, and again talked of immediate departure; but, as
usual, Olivares hinted and implied much, whilst he pledged himself to
nothing, and when he returned he left "Baby" and "Steenie" once more in
a fool's paradise of confident hope. From day to day they were thus
kept; Olivares hinting that as soon as news came that King James had
given liberty to English Catholics, all obstacles would be removed, and
the Infanta might accompany her bridegroom to England. Charles and his
adviser begged James urgently and often to fulfil their promises in
this respect without delay; for, said they, they were convinced that
Olivares would stand out no longer when the news came.
"We know you will think a little more time will be well spent to bring
her with us, when by that means we may upon equaller terms treat with
them of other things. Do your best there (_i.e._ in England), and we
will not fail of ours here.... Of all this we must entreat you to
speak nothing; for if you do our labour here will be the harder, and
when it shall be hoped there and not take {115} effect they will be the
more discontented.[24] I, your Baby, have, since this conclusion, been
with my mistress, and she sits publicly with me at the plays, and
within these two or three days shall take place of the Queen as
Princess of England."
James in London was sorely perplexed, for the Marquis of Hinojosa and
Carlos Coloma, the Spanish ambassadors, were pressing him still more to
make the concessions to the English Catholics thorough and irrevocable;
whilst the Council, even Buckingham's sycophantic creatures, Conway and
Calvert, the Secretaries of State, were ill at ease. But the step had
to be taken, and James, with many prickings of conscience, or more
worldly fears, summoned his Council at Whitehall on Sunday the 20th
July, and, after feasting the two Spanish ambassadors, the King of
England took an oath before them and a Catholic priest, with Cottington
and the two Secretaries of State only in attendance, to comply with all
the conditions of the marriage which had been accepted in Madrid, the
English Catholics being given immediate and complete toleration.[25]
This ceremony in the palace of Whitehall having come to an end, King
James was entering his coach to go to the Spanish embassy, and take a
secret oath there to obtain within a {116} given time the abrogation by
Parliament of all the penal laws, when, as he says, Lord Andover,
travel-stained with his long rapid journey from Madrid, "came stepping
in the door like a ghost," and delivered the letter from Charles and
Buckingham, saying that the Spaniards were insisting upon deferring the
departure of the Infanta until the spring, to give time for the
reception of the Pope's consent to the modified conditions, and for the
full execution of the decrees, relieving the English Catholics from
their disabilities.
[Sidenote: Charles outwitted]
Poor James must have seen now clearly that he had been outwitted. He
was pledged, pledged up to the hilt. He had just solemnly sworn to
accept all the Spanish conditions. His son was still in the hands of
Spain; no promise whatever binding Spain had been given for the return
of the Palatinate to Frederick; and now the gage that he and his
shallow favourite had thought would guarantee their demands upon Spain
was not to be delivered until next spring, which might mean never!
"This course is both a dishonour to me and double charges, if I must
send two fleets. But if they will not send her till March, then let
them, in God's name, send her by their own fleet, ... but if no better
may be, do ye hasten your business: the fleet shall be at you as soon
as wind and weather can serve, and this bearer (_i.e._ Cottington) will
bring you the power to treat for the Palatinate, and in the matter of
Holland. And, sweet Baby, go on with the contract, and the best
assurance ye can get of sending her next year. But, upon {117} my
blessing, lie not with her in Spain, except ye be sure to bring her
with you; and forget not to make them keep their former conditions
anent the portion (_i.e._ dowry), otherwise both my Baby and I are
bankrupt for ever."
Cottington lost no time; and by the 5th (15th N.S.) August was back
again in Madrid with the news of the King of England's compliance on
oath with the Spanish conditions. Again the divines, at Olivares'
bidding, began wrangling over the form and substance of James' oath;
for Hinojosa, the Spanish ambassador in England, had reported
unfavourably upon the real intentions of James towards the Catholics,
and three weeks more passed before the whole marriage treaty was
embodied in a formal document, which Charles, on the 28th August (7th
September), swore solemnly on the Gospels in the hands of the Patriarch
of the Indies to fulfil, whilst Philip simply promised that the
marriage should take place _when the Pope's consent arrived_, in which
case the Infanta should be sent to England in the following spring. It
was indeed a triumph for the diplomacy of Olivares, and Charles
endeavoured to save appearances by asking, now that it was too late,
for some assurance that the Pope's consent would be given by Christmas
and the marriage solemnised. Philip was all smiles. Nothing would
delight him better; but, as it was a case of conscience, the
theologians must decide. When they met to do so they raked up many
stories, old and new, to show that Englishmen could not be trusted
further than you could see them in matters of religion, and decided
that all of {118} King James's promises to the Catholics must come into
actual effect before any further step could be taken by Philip.
Cottington, it appears, had fallen ill with the fatigue of his rapid
journey; and, in the belief that he was dying, sent for a priest and
confessed himself a Catholic, yet as soon as the fit passed off and he
recovered he withdrew his professions, and this was cited as a proof of
the falsity of Englishmen. The story, already quoted from Howel, of
Varney's coming to fisticuffs with the English priest Ballard was made
the most of. Besides, said they, a gentleman of King Philip's chamber
only the other day had seen on a sideboard in Prince Charles's
apartment, in the palace of the Catholic King himself, "a Protestant
catechism in which all the heresies and errors are taught, translated
into Spanish and richly and curiously bound." This was really too
shocking, and the divines decided that Charles was not to be trusted an
inch beyond the conventions already made.
[Sidenote: A hollow betrothal]
In vain a grander bull-fight than ever was given to celebrate the
so-called betrothal, in which Charles cut a gallant figure in white
satin, and in which, amidst a mad prodigality of splendour,
three-and-twenty bulls were done to death by nobles;[26] in vain
feasts[27] and banquets hailed {119} Charles as the husband of a
Spanish Princess, and the future restorer of England to the Catholic
faith; both Charles and Buckingham now saw that they had been fooled,
and were only anxious to get away with a good face and such dignity as
they might. Olivares personally still pretended to be eager for the
match, and feigned a desire to send the Infanta with the Prince, "to
turn them all out of Spain together, as he said jocosely"; but
Buckingham now profoundly distrusted him--and, indeed, told him at this
juncture that he would always be his enemy--and was determined that the
Prince should not be further pledged to the marriage, unless the
Infanta accompanied them to England. "Send us peremptory commands to
come away, with all possible speed," they wrote to King James; "we
desire this, not that we fear we shall need it, but in case we have,
that your son, who hath expressed much affection to the Infanta, may
press his coming away under colour of your command without appearing an
ill lover."
The love romance, in good truth, was at an end, and the foolish
adventure had resulted in one side being pledged to a course that
threatened the stability of England, whilst the other was bound to
nothing whatever, since the Pope's consent would be given or withheld
as Spain desired. Worst blow of all to King James was the contemptuous
treatment of his demands about the Palatinate. {120} "As for the
business of the Palatinate," wrote Charles to his father, "now that we
have pressed them we have discovered these two impediments: first, they
say they have no hope to accommodate it without the marriage of your
grandchild with the Emperor's daughter, ... to be brought up in the
Emperor's Court; and the second is, that though they will restore his
lands (to the Palatine) they will not restore his honour." It was,
indeed, time that Charles was gone, for the sorry part he and
Buckingham had played in Madrid, and their long absence, had provoked
serious discontent in England; and even Archy Armstrong in Madrid, with
his fool's privilege, goaded Buckingham with taunts and sneers, until
the enraged favourite threatened that he would have him hanged. "No
one ever heard of a fool being hanged for talking," retorted Archy,
"but many Dukes in England have been hanged for insolence."[28]
On the 29th August (8th September, N.S.), Charles was conducted in
state by Philip to take his leave of the Queen and the Infanta, to whom
he made all manner of professions and promises. Buckingham on this
occasion did not accompany the Prince, being desirous, as the Spaniards
said, of having a separate honour for himself; but even whilst this
ostentatious ceremony was being used towards him, a secret paper was
being drafted by skilful hands and brains in Madrid that was destined
to precede him and the Prince to London, and to set before King James
the long tale of Buckingham's transgressions and omissions whilst in
Spain, his violence, his rudeness, his lack of {121} diplomacy, his
inexpertness in affairs, his pride and insolence. The Spaniards,
indeed, had determined to make Buckingham the scapegoat as an
additional security for themselves, and they, or rather Olivares, thus
laid the foundation of the spoilt favourite's ruin.
Splendid presents were given on both sides: Philip sending to his guest
four-and-twenty Spanish and Arab horses and six mares, twenty hackneys
in velvet housings, fringed and embroidered with gold, two pairs of
fine Spanish asses for the stud, a dagger, a sword, and a pistol, all
richly encrusted with diamonds, eighty muskets and eighty crossbows and
a hundred of the best swords in Spain; whilst Charles, in return for
this, apart from his gifts to the King, gave to the bearer of his
presents a great diamond jewel. Buckingham also received from the King
a fine stud of horses and mares, with arms and jewels of immense
value.[29] The Queen's present to Charles consisted of an enormous
quantity of linen under-garments of great fineness, worked by the
discalced nuns, fifty dressed and perfumed skins, and two hundred and
fifty scented glove skins of great rarity and value; whilst Olivares,
knowing Charles' artistic tastes and the interest he had taken in the
fine pictures in the palace, presented him with many beautiful
paintings, some chamber hangings, and three Sedan chairs, fit, as Soto
says, for the greatest king on earth; one entirely of tortoiseshell and
gold, these chairs being for the use in London of King James, the
Prince of Wales, and Buckingham respectively. All the principal
courtiers came {122} with similar gifts; but when, with many false
tears on both sides, Charles went to the Convent of the Discalced
Carmelites to take a last private farewell of his betrothed, she gave
him, amongst many rich and beautiful toys, perfumes, and the like, a
letter from which she said she hoped great things would come. It was
addressed to a saintly nun at Carrion, which lay in his road towards
the sea, and the Infanta prayed that he would visit and confer with the
holy woman for the good of his soul.[30] She made Charles promise her,
moreover, that he would have a care for the Catholics of England, for
any one of whom, she said, she would lay down her life.
Charles was as lavish in his gifts as were his hosts, jewels of
inestimable value being given to the King and Queen, and, indeed, to
everybody, apparently, with whom the Prince had been brought into
contact at the Spanish Court. The Infanta received from her lover a
string of two hundred and fifty great perfect pearls, with similar
pearls for the ears and breast, and a diamond ornament so precious
"that no one dared to estimate its value."[31] Amongst the shower of
jewels that fell upon the Spanish courtiers, that which came to
Olivares seems to have been one of the most precious. It was the great
"Portuguese" diamond of purest water, that once had been the pride of
the crown jewels of Portugal, and had been brought to England by the
pretender Don Antonio, who, {123} whilst his jewels lasted, had found
so warm a welcome in the Court of Elizabeth.
At dawn on Saturday, 30th August, King Philip and his brother Carlos,
with their English guest, and followed by hundreds of gallant
gentlemen, rode across the bridge of Segovia out of the Castilian
capital, over the arid plain towards the vast monastery palace of the
Escorial in the Guadarramas, the enduring gloomy monument of the first
of the Spanish Philips. The next day was spent in seeing the wonders
of the building, and on Monday hunting in the woods and moors around
occupied the day. On Tuesday morning, 3rd September, the party set
forth, and a few miles on the road the King, after an alfresco luncheon
and a long private conversation with his guest, took final leave of
Charles, with much ceremonial salutation and professions of eternal
regard. That night the English Prince, in whose coach travelled
Buckingham, Bristol, and Gondomar, arrived at the village of
Guadarrama, and the next night was spent at the ancient city of Segovia.
Charles had left in Bristol's hands a power to conclude the marriage on
the arrival in Madrid of the consent of the Pope to the modified
conditions; but at Segovia he signed two letters, one to King Philip
reiterating his intention and desire to carry the match through, and
the other revoking the full powers he had given to Bristol to conclude
the espousals when the Pope's consent arrived, on the ground that there
was nothing in the conventions to prevent the Infanta from embracing a
conventual life after the {124} marriage.[32] With Charles's slow
progress through Spain to Santander[33], and so to England, this book
has naught to do, nor with the extraordinary set of intrigues by which,
to Bristol's indignation and subsequent ruin, Buckingham on his return
drew the pliant James into alliance with France against Spain.
Bristol, during his short further stay in Madrid, laboured hard, aided
by Gondomar, to keep the negotiations afoot, the Spanish party in the
English Court endeavoured with the same object to arouse the fears of
James against Buckingham, and nearly succeeded in doing it. Bristol's
colleague and successor at Madrid, Sir Walter Aston, hoping to smooth
matters, incurred Buckingham's violent resentment by provisionally
agreeing to a day for the espousals, when at last the Pope's
conditional consent came. James, and now apparently Charles, had quite
made up their minds that no marriage should take place without the
Palatinate being surrendered by the Emperor; and Philip, as Olivares
had said again and again, would never coerce his Catholic kinsman to do
that for the sake of a heretic. Thenceforward though the bickering
both in Madrid and London still continued for months, the marriage of
Charles and the Infanta was impracticable, and the unwise attempt to
force the hands of cunning statesmen by a romantic _coup de théâtre_
came to the undignified and unsuccessful end that it deserved.
{125}
[Sidenote: Failure of the match]
The Spaniards pretended that the match would have been carried through
but for Buckingham's bad faith and his personal quarrel with Olivares,
and they found it convenient to defend their own character for
sincerity by using the favourite for a scapegoat. But it is quite
certain now, with the abundant authoritative documents before us, that,
except upon quite impossible conditions, there never was any intention
on the part of Philip and Olivares to give the Infanta to Charles.
Olivares played the game with consummate skill, obtaining concessions
to the English Catholics, which, if they had been sincerely carried
out, would have endangered James's crown; and presenting to Europe the
spectacle of the English King and Prince soliciting an alliance with
Spain in a way which allowed such a rebuff to be administered to
England as might have made the great Elizabeth turn in her grave.
That Buckingham was keenly alive to his defeat, and was determined to
avenge it upon Spain, is seen in his letter to James as soon as he left
Madrid,[34] and by the strenuous and successful efforts which he made
on his return to London to defeat the Spanish party, to which he had,
thanks to Gondomar's bribery, formerly belonged. The subsequent
ignominious war with Spain into which England was dragged by Buckingham
and the French alliance, was a fitting sequel, in its inept
mismanagement, to the utter foolishness of the policy which had
precipitated it. The comparison between {126} the incompetence of Sir
Edward Cecil with his disorganised and futile fleet before Cadiz in
1625, and the English attack upon the same city in 1596 under Howard,
Raleigh, and Essex, is as complete and humiliating as the contrast
between shallow Buckingham and sagacious Burghley, or between the
doting poltroon whose letters to his "sweet Boys" we have seen, and the
proudly patriotic termagant whom he succeeded on the throne of England.
[1] Soto y Aguilar. Another unpublished contemporary account in
Spanish of the state entry in the British Museum, MSS. Add. 10,236,
says that Charles advanced to the centre of the room and took off his
hat as the councillors entered. It is mentioned that Charles retained
his English dress and had "a gallant figure" (bizarro en el talle). He
was noticed to doff his hat whenever Philip did on passing a church or
sacred image, and this greatly impressed the crowd in his favour. When
the royal personages arrived at the palace at half-past six, having
taken three hours to cover the distance of about a mile from St.
Geronimo to the palace, the Prince was led to salute the Queen, Lord
Bristol kneeling before them to interpret their conversation. This
account is very enthusiastic as to Charles' graciousness and dignity.
[2] MS. Soto y Aguilar.
[3] _Familiar Letters_.
[4] MS. Royal Academy of History, Madrid. Transcript in my possession.
The writer, in this official capacity, was present at all these feasts.
[5] MS. Soto y Aguilar.
[6] Charles really seems to have fallen in love with her. Howel writes
in July. "There are comedians once a week come to the palace, where,
under a great canopy the Queen and the Infanta sit in the middle and
our Prince and Don Carlos on the Queen's right hand, and the little
Cardinal on the Infanta's left hand. I have seen the Prince have his
eyes immovably fixed upon the Infanta half an hour together in a
thoughtful speculative posture, which sure would needs be tedious
unless affection did sweeten it. It was no handsome comparison of
Olivares that he watched her as a cat doth a mouse." Endymion Porter,
writing to his wife soon after the Prince's arrival in Spain, says:
"The Prince hath taken such a liking to his mistress that now he loves
her as much for her beauty as he can for being sister to so great a
King. She deserves it, for never was there a fairer creature." _State
Papers, Domestic_, March 1623.
[7] Hardwicke, _State Papers_.
[8] From a somewhat ungenerous letter from Charles to Bristol (who was
made the scapegoat), written on the 21st January 1625, he says: "you
will remember how at our first coming into Spain, when taking upon you
to be so wise as to foresee our intention to change our religion, you
were so far from dissuading us that you offered your services and
secrecy to concur in it; and in many other open conferences pressing to
show how convenient it was for us to be Roman Catholic, it being
impossible in your opinion to do any great action otherwise." The
letter is full of reproaches and condemnation of Bristol's conduct, but
it is quite clear that Bristol saw the only condition under which the
match was possible from the first, which Charles and Buckingham,
deceived by Olivares, did not. Cabala (ed. 1691) p. 188.
[9] _Hecho de los Tratados_. Camden Society.
[10] Carey, Earl of Monmouth, _Guerre d' Italia_.
[11] Lord Bristol's diary, MS. in the Advocates' Library, Edinburgh,
gives a minute account of the Prince's movements from day to day.
[12] Soto y Aguilar gives a glowing and pompous account of this
festivity, which, according to him, was a cane tournament and
competition of horsemanship got up in honour of Charles by the Admiral
of Castile. Charles is described as being dressed in black satin, with
the blue ribbon and jewel of the Garter on his breast, the simplicity
of his garb being praised as being very distinguished in appearance, as
it may well have been amidst so gorgeous a crowd as that described by
Soto. It should be noted, however, that Philip himself rarely dressed
in bright colours, though his red doublet in the Dulwich College
picture is splendid enough, his favourite colour being brown with steel
or silver trimmings. On this occasion he is described as being dressed
in this way, with a chain consisting of four linked jewelled crowns on
his breast.
[13] _Familiar Letters_. Several references are made in Spanish
documents of Archy's insolence whilst in Madrid, though that was no new
thing in Philip's Court, where the buffoons were numerous.
[14] Writing on the 17th March, he says: "I send you also your robes of
the order, which you must not forget to wear upon St. George's day, and
dine together in them if they come in time, which I pray God they may,
for it will be a goodly sight for the Spaniards to see my two boys dine
in them. I send you also the jewels I promised; some of mine, and such
of yours, I mean both of you, as are worthy of sending. For my Baby's
presenting to his mistress, I send him an old double cross of Lorraine,
not so rich as ancient, and yet not contemptible for the value, a good
looking-glass with my picture in it to be hung at her girdle, which ye
must tell her ye have caused it so to be enchanted by art magic as
whensoever she shall be pleased to look in it she shall see the fairest
lady that either her brother's or your father's dominions can afford.
Ye shall present her with two long fair diamonds set like an anchor,
and a fair pendant diamond hanging to them; ye shall give her a goodly
rope of pearls, ye shall give her a carcanet or collar, thirteen great
ball rubies and thirteen knots or conques of pearls, and ye shall give
her a head dressing of two-and-twenty great pear pearls; and ye shall
give her three goodly peak pendants, diamonds whereof the biggest to be
worn at a needle on the forehead and one in each ear. For my Baby's
own wearing ye have two good jewels of your own, your round brooch of
diamonds and your triangle diamond with the great round pearl, and I
send ye for your wearing three bretheren that ye know full well, but
newly set; the mirror of France, the fellow of the Portugal diamond,
which I would wish you to wear alone in your hat with a little black
feather. You have also good diamond buttons of your own to be set to a
doublet or jerkin. As for your 'J,' it may serve as a present for a
Don. As for thee, my sweet Gossip, I send thee a fair table diamond,
which I would once have given thee before if thou would'st have taken
it for wearing in thy hat or where thou pleases; and if my Baby will
spare thee two long diamonds in form of an anchor it were fit for an
Admiral to wear." After minute instructions as to how Charles is to
give his presents to the Infanta, the King continues: "I have also sent
four other crosses of meaner value, with a great pointed diamond in a
ring, which will save charges in presents to Dons, according to
quality; but I will send with the fleet divers other jewels for
presents." Hardwicke, _State Papers_.
[15] _Familiar Letters_.
[16] Gondomar was specially obnoxious to the London prentices, who
attacked him in his carriage on more than one occasion.
[17] News-letter from London.
[18] Hardwicke, _State Papers_.
[19] Full details of the discussion from day to day are in _El Hecho de
los Tratados_, etc. Camden Society.
[20] Hardwicke, State Papers.
[21] _Hecho de los Tratados_. Camden Society.
[22] Hardwicke, _State Papers_.
[23] Hardwicke, _State Papers_.
[24] The meaning of this somewhat obscure passage, appears to be that
if King James made public the conditions to which he was to pledge
himself the opposition in England might prevent the measures promised
from being carried out, in which case the disappointment in Spain would
be redoubled.
[25] Secretary Conway to Buckingham. Hardwicke, _State Papers_.
Conway says concerning this: "The acts of favour are gone for the
King's signature, which, known, will create cold sweat and fear until
the return of his Highness."
[26] Soto y Aguilar MS.
[27] One of these, a cane tourney, is fully described in a Spanish
account translated in Somers' Tracts. Philip was always a lover of
this showy diversion, in which bodies of gaily clad horsemen manoeuvred
in opposing squadrons, throwing small cane javelins at each other, the
skilful horsemanship being the criterion of excellence. After the
usual parade through the gaily decked streets, in which Philip and
Charles rode side by side, the King went to the palace of the Countess
de Miranda to change his dress and prepare for the evolutions. The
palace was splendidly fitted up with white damask for his reception;
the halls being artificially cooled and perfumed. His hostess received
him in state at the door, and served him with a refection, "consisting
of all manner of conserves, dried suckets and rosewater confections of
eight different sorts." Philip, by the way, was a great lover of
sweetmeats.
[28] _Hecho de los Tratados_.
[29] They are all described, _ad nauseam_, in the Soto y Aguilar MS.
[30] The Nuncio sent the same night a special messenger to the nun,
directing her how she was to endeavour to do the great service to the
Catholic Church.
[31] These jewels were afterwards returned when the match was abandoned.
[32] Lord Bristol's remonstrance to the Prince on this disingenuous
proceeding is in Cabala, p. 101.
[33] Buckingham, in his haughty letter of rebuke to Aston (Cabala,
120), says that Charles wrote to Aston from Santander to the effect
that he would never marry the Infanta unless good conditions were
agreed to with regard to the Palatinate. Aston's letters from Madrid
are in Cabala.
[34] I'll bring all things with me you have desired except the Infanta,
which hath almost broken my heart, because your, your son's, and the
nation's honour is touched by the miss of it. Hardwicke, _State
Papers_.
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