JAMES STUART
JAMES, the second son of Charles I. and Henrietta Maria, was born on the
15th of October 1633, being baptized by Laud on the 24th,[49] and like
his elder brother was bandied about, hither and thither, during the
progress of the great Civil War, in a manner and among associates
unlikely to have a satisfactory effect on the character of a boy.
Footnote 49:
“Adventures of King James II.,” by the author of the “Life of Sir
Kenelm Digby,” introduction by F. A. Gasquet, D.D.
It can scarcely be a matter for surprise that it was so. The King, more
and more harassed and preoccupied as time went on, could hardly be
supposed to give adequate consideration to his sons’ surroundings,
although, as we have seen, he did his best for the elder in committing
him to the guardianship of Edward Hyde.
In 1648 James was named Lord High Admiral of England, a barren title in
the state of affairs as they then were, but before this he had passed
through some exciting adventures. He was in Oxford when that loyal city
surrendered to Fairfax in 1646, two years earlier, and with his sister
Elizabeth and their little brother Henry was taken to St James’s Palace,
where they were detained as wards of the Parliament. Although the
children’s intercourse with their father had of late been of necessity
intermittent,[50] yet they loved him very dearly, as he had been always
tender and indulgent to them. On this point there is a pathetic story of
James, at that time but twelve years of age. For some time he had been
kept in ignorance of the King’s imprisonment, but in January 1647 “one
of his attendants, a servant of the Earl of Northumberland, told him of
it, to which he replied, How durst any rogues to use his Father after
that manner! and then fell a-weeping. The man told him he would inform
his Lord of what had been said, whereupon the Duke took a long bow then
in the place to have shot him, had not another behind him held his hand.
For this it is reported the Earl of Northumberland will have the Duke
whipped, but whether it hath been done I know not.”[51]
Footnote 50:
“Anecdotal Memories of English Princes.” D. Adams.
Footnote 51:
Clarendon State Papers, vol. ii., Appendix.
It is easy to picture the scene. The insolent serving-man, “armed with a
little brief authority,” meanly rejoicing in the opportunity to sting a
fallen prince; and the boy, the passionate tears still wet on his young,
flushed face, wild with indignant wrath at the bitter news and his own
helplessness. One cannot bear to think that such hot, impetuous
affection and grief should have been so requited.
The King, meanwhile, was very anxious to effect the escape of his second
son, whose life as heir presumptive was of great importance, and he
confided the attempt to Colonel Charles Bampfylde, or Bamfield, an
Irishman. The latter found a willing accomplice in Anne Murray, the
daughter of the King’s old tutor and secretary, Thomas Murray, who
afterwards became Lady Halkett, and the two conspirators laid their
plans carefully, though it was May 1648 before the adventure could be
accomplished.[52]
Footnote 52:
“Autobiography of Anne Murray (Lady Halkett).” Charles II. thanked her
for this service when they met at Dunfermline.
The three children thus under ward at St James’s were instructed to play
at hide and seek in the then neglected and thickly wooded garden of the
ancient palace, and the young Duke James proved himself quite
sufficiently adroit in seconding the plans of his preservers. Under
cover of the spring twilight he contrived to slip through a gate
purposely left open, which led to the Tilt-yard—for Bampfylde had
managed to interest other sympathisers in the plot. James had remembered
also to lock the balcony through which he emerged, and to throw away the
key, besides taking the precaution of locking up his little dog in his
room.[53] By Tilt-yard end, as it was called, Bampfylde was waiting for
him with a wig and patches, and they hurried forthwith to Spring
Gardens, “as if to hear the nightingales,” a favourite expedition of the
London citizens at that season. Thence a coach conveyed them to the
river, where they took boat at Ivy Bridge, and reached the “Old Swan.”
Here Mistress Anne Murray was waiting for them, and she arrayed the boy
in girl’s clothes in all haste, while he, poor child, impatiently
adjured her: “Quickly, quickly, dress me!” This done, Bampfylde took his
charge to the Lion Key, where a Dutch Pink, cleared the day before by
Gravesend searchers, was expecting “Mr Andrews and his sister,” the
latter supposed to be on her way to join her husband in Holland.
Footnote 53:
Clarendon State Papers, vol. ii., Appendix.
Here the Prince, waiting in the cabin, in a moment of forgetfulness
nearly wrecked the whole situation by putting his leg on the table to
pull up his stocking, seeing which the barge-master suspected the sex of
the pretended girl. However, Bampfylde’s threats and James’ promises of
future provision prevailed, and the voyage was safely accomplished.[54]
Footnote 54:
Macpherson’s “Original Papers.”
The fugitives landed in due course at Middleburg, going thence to
Dordrecht, and James, having despatched Bampfylde to The Hague to
announce his successful escape, was met by his brother-in-law the Prince
of Orange, and by him conducted to the Princess at Sluys. Bampfylde’s
influence appears to have been bad from the beginning, as he tried to
implicate the boy in an act of treason.[55] Six ships of the fleet then
lying in the Downs deserted, and having secured Deal, Sandown and
Walmer, sailed to Helvoetsluys, where James joined them, but Bampfylde
worked on the sailors to declare for the young Duke without any mention
of the King or the Prince of Wales. James, however, was wise enough to
answer that he would be their admiral only with his father’s consent.
Footnote 55:
“History of the Rebellion.” Clarendon.
At The Hague he joined his elder brother, and early in the succeeding
year set out for Paris, starting on 6th January 1649, just when the war
of the Fronde was beginning. On this account his mother sent letters to
meet him at Cambrai, bidding him delay his journey, and the Archduke
Leopold, Governor of the Netherlands, offered him quarters in the Abbey
of St Amand. Here he stayed for about a month, a visit which is
supposed, in spite of his youth, to have laid the foundation of his
subsequent conversion to the Church of Rome. The religious of this
community no doubt did their best in controversy to influence the young
English prince who might one day prove a valuable asset. At some time,
probably soon afterwards, a nun is said to have advised him to pray
every day if he was not in the right way, that God would show it to him,
and this seems to have made a deep and lasting impression on his mind,
judging from his allusion to it many years later.[56]
Footnote 56:
Burnet’s “History of His Own Time.”
In February he was able to prosecute his deferred journey, and on the
13th he made his appearance at the Louvre where his mother then was. She
was sitting at dinner when the boy came hastily in and knelt for her
blessing.[57] What kind of reception she gave him we do not know, but
when all is said and done, Henrietta, capricious as she could be, was an
affectionate if injudicious mother, and there must have been a keen
sense of satisfaction in receiving her young son after their long
separation and his adventurous travels.
For a time James settled down among his hitherto unknown relations. The
famous princess, Anne Marie Louise d’Orléans, the redoubtable heroine of
the Fronde, “la grande Mademoiselle,” was very kind to her new cousin at
a time when she was flouting his elder brother. The Duke of York,
between thirteen and fourteen years of age, was then, she says, “very
pretty, well made, with good features, who spoke French well, which gave
him a much better air than had the King his brother,” who was at that
time completely ignorant of the language, though he was eagerly put
forward by his mother as a suitor for the hand of his imperious cousin,
who could bestow such a magnificent dowry on any husband on whom her
choice might fall.
Footnote 57:
Nicholas Papers.
In the September of 1649 Charles determined to go to Jersey, the Channel
Islands having remained steadily loyal to the royal cause, and he took
his brother James with him, probably intending to detach him from their
mother’s influence.[58] At Caen they visited Lady Ormonde, who was
living there at that time in exile, and at Coutances, not far away, the
bishop received the brothers with some distinction, giving a banquet in
their honour at Cotainville on the following day. However, as the boats
were waiting, they started at once, and reached Jersey on the 18th. Here
they passed the winter, and the Duke of York won golden opinions from
those who came in contact with him.
Footnote 58:
“History of the Rebellion.” Clarendon.
He was by this time a tall slight boy, almost as tall as his brother,
lively and gracious in manner, while his bright complexion and fair hair
displayed a marked difference from the swarthy young King. The two were
then in mourning for their martyred father, whose tragic death had taken
place in the previous January, and James is described as dressed “in an
entire suit of black without any other ornament or decoration than the
silver star displayed upon his mantle, and a purple scarf across his
shoulders.”[59]
Footnote 59:
“Charles II. in the Channel Islands.” Hoskins.
The brothers were much together in those early days of exile, and it
could not be for the advantage of the younger, seeing what manner of men
Charles chose to encourage about him, though after all, considering his
own youth and circumstances, the latter was scarcely a free agent in
this respect.
The two quarrelled at times, and indeed somewhat later Charles
manifested a certain jealousy of his brother which can scarcely be a
matter for surprise.[60]
Footnote 60:
“Travels of the King.” Eva Scott.
The Duke of York in due time took service in the army of France, under
the great Turenne, and speedily distinguished himself by his courage and
military genius,[61] while the unhappy King was forced to remain in
obscure idleness and abject poverty, an object of more or less contempt
in each country which he visited in his wanderings, especially after
that disastrous attempt which ended in the crushing defeat of
Worcester—Cromwell’s “crowning mercy”—and his own hairbreadth escape.
James, on the other hand, before he was twenty-one had seen three
victorious campaigns under his famous leader, and was drawing pay which
placed him in easy circumstances, enabling him to support his rank
suitably. Nevertheless whatever differences might arise between the
brothers (and these were certainly fomented by those about them, not to
speak of Cromwell, who from motives of policy wished to divide them),
there was strong family affection among the children of Charles I., and
in later days these two were certainly linked together by an unswerving
attachment which grew with advancing years, and was dissolved only by
death.
Footnote 61:
“Memoirs of J. Evelyn,” edit. Wm. Bray, 1818. Edward Hyde (Paris) to
Sir Richard Browne, 6th December 1653: “The Duke of York is returned
hither, full of reputac’on and honour.”
Charles had left Jersey in February 1650, but his brother remained
there, probably because of the latter’s opposition to the treaty with
the Scots. Young as he was, he set himself passionately against it, and
even dismissed Lord Byron and Sir John Berkeley from his bedchamber on
this account.[62] However, the brothers parted affectionately at this
time, and did not meet again for more than eighteen months, Charles
having joined his mother at Beauvais, and then returned to Flanders. In
1650 Lord Taafe had proposed a match between the Duke of York and the
little daughter of Duke Charles IV. of Lorraine, “a prince,” as James
remarked afterwards, “not much accustomed to keep his word.”[63]
However, the young Duke seems to have acquiesced in the plan, though the
Queen was very angry with both Taafe and Lord Inchiquin for presuming to
interfere, as she termed it. At this time her relations with her second
son were certainly strained. She was very hard on him, and he hated
Henry Jermyn, hotly resenting the latter’s powerful influence with his
mother, who, he declared, “loved and valued Lord Jermyn more than all
her children,” an instance of Henrietta’s headstrong disregard for
appearances, which involved her in what was possibly an unmerited
scandal.[64] The poor boy had also at this time the fret and strain of
poverty, but just then there came a report of the King’s death, on which
James set out for Brussels, where he stayed at the house of Sir Henry de
Vic. He remained there for two months, frequenting, so we are told,
various popular churches for the sake, he said, of the fine music he
heard in them. At this time Sir George Radcliffe was controller of the
Duke’s meagre household, and with Sir Edward Herbert appointed a new
suite. His mother had forbidden him to join his sister Mary, but in
December 1650 he was allowed to proceed to The Hague from Rheims, where
he had gone from Brussels. At the christening of the baby William, born
under such mournful circumstances, the Princess Dowager proposed that
the young uncle should carry the child, but the mother interfered,
considering such a proceeding highly insecure.[65] James was made chief
mourner at the funeral of his brother-in-law, the Prince of Orange, at
Delft, but soon afterwards the States General found him an inconvenient
visitor, as they were anxious to establish a good understanding with the
English Parliament: thus he was sent to Breda, and his mother was asked
to recall him.
Footnote 62:
Carte’s “Letters.”
Footnote 63:
Nicholas Papers.
Footnote 64:
“The King in Exile.” Eva Scott.
Footnote 65:
“The King in Exile.” Eva Scott.
He was with her in France at the time of his brother’s absence in
Scotland, and they went together to Moriceux, to meet the fugitive
King on the accomplishment of his romantic escape after Worcester.
James was soon to make his acquaintance with war on his own account,
for it was at the age of nineteen,[66] and therefore in 1652, that he
entered the army of his cousin Louis XIV., wherein he served four
years with honour, becoming popular with all ranks. At the end of his
fourth campaign, which included the sieges and taking of Landrecy,
Condé and St Guislain, Turenne was sent for by Mazarin, and as all the
other lieutenant-generals were on leave the young English prince was
for a time in supreme command of the army of France.[67] Before this,
however, and soon after he joined Turenne, the lad had received his
baptism of fire at the first attack on Etampes, and it was there that
Schomberg, the future famous marshal, was wounded at his side.[68]
Forty years later at the Boyne Water, King James, in the desperate
attempt to regain his lost crown, was defeated by the great Dutch
general, who fell in the hour of victory. Time has his revenges. One
wonders if the thoughts of the luckless, despairing King travelled
back to that first fight, in the early flush of youth and hope, when
the world was opening before him and everything seemed possible.[69]
Footnote 66:
“Turenne,” by the author of “Life of Sir Kenelm Digby.”
Footnote 67:
“Adventures of King James II.,” by the author of “Life of Sir Kenelm
Digby.”
Footnote 68:
“James II. and his Wives.” Allan Fea.
Footnote 69:
“Turenne,” by the author of “Life of Sir Kenelm Digby.”
Soon after Turenne’s summons to attend the Cardinal the treaty which
Cromwell concluded with France required the banishment of the Duke of
York, and having thus perforce to leave the army, he came to Paris there
to rejoin his mother. He was smarting under the treatment he had
received, for Turenne was his ideal and moreover had treated him with
marked kindness and consideration, giving “him a reception suitable to
his birth, and endeavoured by all possible proofs of affection to soften
the remembrance of his misfortunes.” This great leader had a high
opinion of the Duke, saying of him that he “was the greatest prince and
like to be the best general of his time.” We find Clarendon himself
writing to Secretary Nicholas in 1653: “The Duke of York is this day
gone towards the field, he is a gallant gentleman and hath the best
general reputation of any young prince in Christendom and really will
come to great matters.”
The Duke had not reached manhood without further plans on his mother’s
part to negotiate a suitable alliance. We have seen that the Lorraine
match fell through. In the succeeding year, when he was eighteen, Marie
d’Orléans, Mademoiselle de Longueville, the daughter of the Duke de
Longueville by his first wife, was suggested by Sir John Berkeley. She
was ugly and deformed, though called a wise princess, but the greatest
heiress in France, after Mademoiselle de Montpensier, and James made no
objection.[70] Hyde, however, opposed the marriage, on the ground that
the heir presumptive ought not to marry before the sovereign, in which
axiom the queen-mother for once agreed with him, and Anne of Austria,
Queen-regent of France, clinched the matter. The Duke of York, she
decided, was too great, as the son of a king, to marry in France without
the consent of his nation and brother.[71] Mademoiselle de Longueville
married Henri, Duc de Nemours, in 1657. Madame de Motteville speaks of
her good looks, which Hyde denies, and affirms attachment on James’
part.
Footnote 70:
“Life of Henrietta Maria,” I. A. Taylor.
Footnote 71:
“Memoirs for History of Anne of Austria,” Madame de Motteville, 1725;
“James II. and his Wives,” Allan Fea.
James is reported to have been “very much displeased,” which seems a
little unlikely, considering his youth and the unattractive appearance
of the proposed bride. But four more years of strenuous life, as we
know, were to pass over his head, and then at Peronne, in the train of
his sister Mary, James, Duke of York, was fated to meet for the first
time Anne Hyde. In his own memoirs, dictated long afterwards, he
acknowledges that he learnt to love her at that time. The brilliant
girl, for whom Spencer Compton and Harry Jermyn had sighed in vain, was,
with her ready wit and hereditary talents, a conspicuous figure in the
entourage of the Princess of Orange.[72] “Besides her person,” says the
record just mentioned, “she had all the qualities proper to inflame a
heart less apt to take fire than his.” “A very extraordinary woman” she
is even called by Burnet (who, however, is not always to be trusted).
But at any rate, clever, fearless, ready of tongue and broadly
sympathetic, she stood for much that might be considered typically
English at that time.[73] As for Anne’s own feelings, no one can wonder
at her reciprocation of a passion which a prince like James laid at her
feet. Fresh from the fields of his prowess, confessed by the greatest
captain of the age to be of conspicuous gallantry, and surrounded with
the halo of unmerited misfortune, there is no doubt that he must have
seemed a very Paladin to the daughter of the loyal Cavalier to whom
fealty to the exiled race was a religion, and for the rest, when one
looks at the picture painted in his youth by Lely—the haughty, beautiful
face, with its sensitive mouth and luminous eyes—one cannot choose but
see, like poor Nan Hyde, in the Duke of York a veritable Prince
Charming.
Footnote 72:
“Memoirs of the Court of England during Reign of Stuarts.” J. H.
Jesse.
Footnote 73:
“Queen Anne and her Court.” P. F. Williams Ryan.
His own statement is simply made in few words,[74] and apparently if the
lovers confessed their attachment to each other at that time no one else
guessed their secret then nor for long afterwards.[75]
Footnote 74:
“Life of James II.” Rev. J. S. Clarke, from original Stuart MSS. in
Carlton House, 1816.
Footnote 75:
“Original Papers containing Secret History of Great Britain,” arranged
by James Macpherson, 1775. Extracts from writings of James II.
himself.
The Princess Mary and her train remained for some months in France, as
before mentioned, and it was during the stay in Paris that Frances
Stanhope, one of her ladies, was converted to Rome, and Queen Henrietta
was present at her profession in the Jesuit Noviciate Church. At this
time the Queen’s capricious favour seems to have veered in the direction
of her second son, probably on account of his service in the French
army.
During this Paris visit Sir Richard Browne, father-in-law to John
Evelyn, was writing to Hyde in the month of May: “I have as yett been
onely once at our Court where by misfortune I could not kisse ye hande
of y^r faire daughter.” They were old friends, and the friendship lasted
for years.[76]
Footnote 76:
Evelyn’s “Correspondence.” Sir E. Hyde to Sir R. Browne, Bruges, 18th
August 1656: “We expect the Duke of York here very speedily.”
Meanwhile the Duke of York, utterly weary of inglorious ease, again took
up arms, though reluctantly, at this time in the Spanish army under the
exiled Condé. He had received a sort of apology from Mazarin for the
treaty with Cromwell, which however he frankly acknowledged to be
unavoidable. It was, as has already been said, a prime object with the
Protector to foment disagreements between the royal brothers, and he
persuaded the Cardinal to offer James a command of troops in Italy.[77]
Charles on this summoned his brother to Breda, and bade him take an oath
of service to Spain and also dismiss his governor, Sir John Berkeley,
who was secretly an agent of Cromwell. The Duke of York, however,
probably resenting dictation of any kind, left Flanders hurriedly, to
his brother’s great wrath; on which Hyde, justly apprehensive of a
breach between the two, interfered on behalf of the younger brother,
begging that at any cost he should be recalled, and Ormonde was sent
after the truant. James listened to his persuasions so far as to consent
to return, on condition that his household was not meddled with, and the
offending Berkeley was given a peerage, it is hard to see why, being
created Baron Berkeley of Stratton. On this occasion the Princess Mary
went to Bruges to assist in bringing about the reconciliation between
her brothers, and in the month of May the Duke of York was given the
command of certain regiments newly raised, and in the succeeding month
finally made up his difference with Charles. At the battle of the Dunes
he displayed extraordinary valour, a quality which distinguished him
throughout his career as a soldier. Condé, who might certainly be
considered a judge of such matters, placed it on record that “if there
was a man without fear, it was the Duke of York.”
Footnote 77:
“Charles II.” Osmund Airy.
In this campaign James had now the company of his younger brother Henry,
Duke of Gloucester. In that poor boy’s short and stormy life there was
indeed little space for anything to be called happiness. He,
contemptuously called “Master Harry” by his gaolers, had been released
by the Parliament some years previously, and having landed at Dunkirk
was first sent to Lady Hyde at Antwerp, but he arrived in Paris in
1653.[78] He had become—he was but ten years old—terribly spoilt by bad
company, but he quickly improved in his new surroundings, and later,
Morley at any rate thought highly of him.[79] No sooner, however, had he
taken up his abode with his mother than she, regardless of the dying
commands of his father, set to work with all her might to win him over
to the Church of Rome, fancying no doubt that with a child of
Gloucester’s tender years her task would prove an easy one.
Footnote 78:
Sandford’s “Genealogical History.”
Footnote 79:
_Dictionary of National Biography._
Charles II., nevertheless, wrote the boy a stern letter of warning, and
appealed passionately to James for aid, he being then at hand, bidding
him even leave the service of France sooner than refrain from supporting
his brother. Besides this the King despatched the faithful Ormonde to
enforce his command, the latter moreover on arrival finding it necessary
to sell his own George, the last jewel remaining to him, to help the
young Duke in his destitution.
On this Henrietta flew into one of her tempests of rage and promptly
turned her youngest son out of her house, believing she could thus
coerce him into surrender. After a piteous scene with his little sister
Henrietta, who seemed beside herself with terror, only gasping “Oh me!
my mother!” amidst her sobs, the poor young Duke, forlorn and helpless,
but unshaken in his resolve, fled to his brother James, who did his best
to console him, and proved indeed always kind and affectionate. On this
occasion, moreover, the Duke of York attempted in vain to soften his
mother’s anger, but the only result was that she refused to communicate
with either son, except through Walter Montague, who was much in her
confidence as a messenger and go-between on many occasions. This favour
he probably owed to the fact of his being a convert from the Anglican
Church. He entered the religious life, and died as Abbot of Pontoise.
The two royal brothers during their Paris sojourn attended together
regularly the English service which was held at the house of Sir Richard
Browne and was frequented by many of the exiled Cavaliers. If at this
time James had indeed begun to entertain doubts as to the Church of his
baptism, they were not yet strong enough to lead him away from her
worship. He appears to have been instructed early in the doctrines of
the Church, especially in that of the Real Presence, by Dr Steward, who
was successively Prebendary of Worcester and Provost of Eton. During the
progress of the war, the latter became (nominally) Dean of St Paul’s and
of Westminster, and while Clerk of the Closet to Charles I., was one of
the commissioners at the Treaty of Uxbridge. He also taught the Prince
of Wales, and became one of the Duke of York’s Cabinet Council, Sir
George Radcliffe spitefully calling him “the heifer the queen plowes
with.”[80] The support James gave to his younger brother testifies to
his loyalty, at any rate for that time, and something also may be due to
the ardent veneration which the memory of their father inspired in the
children of Charles I. To him the offices of his Church had been his
stay and consolation up to the supremest moment of the great tragedy,
and his son could not but remember the fact. And moreover it must be
recollected that among the many faults of James, Duke of York,
dissimulation had no place. Even Burnet, though no friend to him, could
not but acknowledge him to be “candid and sincere,” therefore we must
conclude that whatever difficulties may have presented themselves to his
mind, at the time when he and his brother Henry knelt side by side at
Mattins and Evensong in Sir Richard Browne’s house, the Duke of York was
still conscientiously an English churchman, and it is significant that
in after years he never tried to turn his daughters from their
faith.[81]
Footnote 80:
Burnet’s “History of My Own Time.”
Footnote 81:
Eva Scott, “The King in Exile.” Cosin, Dean of Peterborough,
afterwards Bishop of Durham, was chaplain in Paris.
The Duke of Gloucester was afterwards for a time with his elder sister
in the Low Countries, and, as we have seen, in 1657 took up arms with
his brother.[82] Both were well known for their extreme and reckless
courage, an attribute not, it must be confessed, shared by the leaders
of the Spanish forces, who were their brothers in arms, for the latter
for the most part took care to watch the battles in which they were
engaged from the safe and distant harbourage of their coaches.[83]
Footnote 82:
Madame—Julia Cartwright (Mrs Ady). In June 1657 both were reported
slain or prisoners, but reached Bruges safely.
Footnote 83:
Thurloe State Papers.
At the end of the campaign James had, as in the case of the army of
France, won the confidence of his men and the respect of Condé and of
the Spanish leaders in general.[84]
Footnote 84:
Clarendon State Papers. Marquess of Ormond to E. H. Brussels, 21st
June 1657: “The Duke of York will take exceedingly in the army. He is
as brave and as little troublesome as any prince can be.”
It may be that neither England nor France was in favour of the Princes
taking service in the Spanish army, a circumstance which would have some
force in determining James, who very probably was quite willing to fling
a defiance in the teeth of Cromwell.
Nevertheless, it is strange to find Sir John Berkeley and Colonel
Bampfylde, the plotter of some years back, seriously discussing about
this time the question of a marriage for the Duke of York with one of
the Protector’s daughters, a fact which goes to prove the despair of the
Royalists of otherwise succeeding in England.[85] Still later, in 1659,
a party among the exiles, choosing to believe a rumour which pronounced
the King to have consumptive tendencies and to be in a precarious state
of health, actually proposed to set him aside in favour of his second
brother. There is not, however, a shadow of evidence that James himself
was in any way a party to such a scheme. Indeed in August of that year
he followed Charles to France, and later in the autumn the unlucky truce
between France and Spain put an end to the military career of the Dukes
of York and Gloucester, and as a consequence deprived them of their pay
in the army of the latter country, throwing them once more on their
elder brother’s meagre resources.
Footnote 85:
Eva Scott, “Travels of the King,” “The King in Exile.”
In this connection a letter from Mr Jennings (Captain Titus) to Hyde
seems to point to the increasing arrogance of the Protector’s family.
Writing from Antwerp on 11th February 1656-1657, he says: “There was
lately a wedding of a kinswoman of Laurence’s, whither all the
grandees and their wives were invited, but most of the Major-Generals
and their wives came not. The feast wanting much of its grace by the
absence of those ladies, it was asked by one there, where they were?
Mrs Claypole answered: ‘I’ll warrant you washing their dishes at home,
as they use to do.’ This hath been extremely ill taken, and now the
women do all they can with their husbands to hinder Mrs Claypole from
being a Princess and her Highness” (Clarendon State Papers). It will
be remembered that Elizabeth Claypole, Cromwell’s favourite daughter,
predeceased him by a few weeks.
When Henry had been sent out of England by the Parliament, that body had
promised the prince a small maintenance, provided he kept away from all
and any of his relations, a proviso which obviously was unlikely to be
observed. However, any such provision was forfeited, and he was in the
same plight as his next brother.
Another effort at an English alliance was made during this year, Lord
Mordaunt suggesting this time, as a bride to the Duke of York, Fatima
Lambert, the only child of the famous Roundhead general, whose influence
was for a time paramount with the army since the death of the Lord
Protector in September of 1658.
James, however, now pledged secretly to Anne Hyde, at once refused the
proposed match, alleging as a reason the want of the King’s consent, but
still keeping his secret inviolate.
From Secretary Nicholas’ letter to Charles II., dated 8th October, it
appears that in his communication with the Duke, Lord Mordaunt did not
mention the name of the lady, but called her mysteriously “a daughter of
a gentleman of power and good quality in England, but he was not to tell
who it was,” which seems an unmeaning precaution, as sooner or later
James must have been told, and could not be expected to pledge himself
in ignorance of the lady’s parentage.[86]
Footnote 86:
Carte’s “Letters.”
However, as we know, the negotiation, if it attained such a point,
speedily fell to the ground, and events which soon followed removed it
altogether out of the sphere of possibilities.
In that year, when hope and fear alternated almost daily, when events
crowded on each other, Lambert’s restless figure holds the stage in one
aspect or another.[87] In the autumn he is sent with a strong force to
suppress the rising of Sir George Booth, who is taken in the endeavour
to escape in a woman’s dress, and Lord Derby in the disguise of a
servant. Lambert is to command the Parliament’s forces in the north in
October. In March of the next year the pendulum has swung back, and the
victorious general is committed to the Tower. He is released on parole,
but once more he is stirring up strife and is made prisoner. Later, he
narrowly escapes the block, to be a captive for his life in Guernsey.
But now another figure dominates the arena, and it is Monk who gathers
up all the threads into his strong hands, who takes the tide at the
turn, who grasps the empty crown which a greater than he had longed but
feared to wear, and lays it at the feet of the exile whose birthright it
is.[88]
Footnote 87:
Whitelocke’s “Memorials.”
Footnote 88:
“State Papers of John Thurloe, Esq.” Copy of a letter from Brussels,
of the 13/3 of March 1660/59.
In the early spring of 1660, the year which was to see the end of King
Charles’ dreary, aimless wanderings, the Duke of York was made
captain-general of all the Spanish forces at sea, and “admiral of his
fleets commanding his cinque-ports,”[89] but he had not time to enjoy
these dignities long, for in the month of May he came home once more
with his brothers, and was forthwith made admiral of the English fleet.
Hyde had been strongly opposed to the Spanish appointment as it was
supposed to involve the profession of the faith of Rome, but at that
moment the fortunes of the royal house were at their lowest ebb. Charles
himself had gone incognito to Calais, James to Boulogne, hoping for the
success of Booth’s attempt, but its failure already mentioned sent both
the brothers back to Brussels.
Footnote 89:
Whitelocke’s “Memorials.”
Only in March, came Bailey secretly to Ormonde with the tale that the
King was toasted in the taverns of London. Only in March, and in May the
_Royal Charles_ was bringing him back to his inheritance, the Duke of
York sailing in the _London_, the Duke of Gloucester in the _Swiftsure_.
The 29th of May—Oak-Apple Day—the day looked for through long years of
suspense, the day almost despaired of, the day welcomed with a very
agony of joy and exultation, had come at last.
To understand the fervour of welcome that greeted the restored King, we
must consider the unhealed wounds suffered by the many, and the fact
that the religious life of a great and representative class was
inextricably bound up with the fortunes of the exiled race. In the
eighteen years which had passed since the Standard was set up at
Nottingham, castle and grange and manor—yes, and farmhouse too—had sent
forth their sons, ungrudgingly for the most part, to fight under that
banner, and the great Anglican Church, with her array of saintly
doctors, never more conspicuous than in that age, had given her blessing
on the enterprise. In either case the sacrifice had been exacted, the
soldier had laid down his life, the priest had suffered for the cause,
and above all the scaffold before Whitehall had for ever set the seal on
both. It was nothing that England had known years of strong,
heavy-handed government, that she had dictated terms to other nations.
To many who cherished sorrowful memories, those years only represented a
space of stern tyranny and repression, and the graves of the beloved
slain at Edgehill and Newbury, Marston Moor and Naseby, were green for
ever in their hearts. To such simple and devout souls, also, it was much
that through that time the Liturgy had been forbidden, that the churches
had been desecrated, that the whole land lay desolate, neither could she
“enjoy her Sabbaths.” To them it was much that the end had come, and
even with haunting memories of the past they could say it was worth
while. If there was much that was short-sighted in this position, there
was also much that was heroic.
[Illustration:
JAMES, DUKE OF YORK
]
So in the sunshine of spring, an English spring with the laburnums and
lilacs ablow, with the air scented with the breath of flowers, alive
with the singing of birds, the King came “to his own again.”
Thanksgivings had been offered in the glorious cathedral of Canterbury,
Rochester had added to the welcome, and now on Restoration Day a gallant
train rode slowly over Blackheath on its triumphant way to London. Blare
of trumpet and ring of bridle-chains and a riot of colour were all
combined, while the people who lined the way could, some of them,
scarcely see, for their blinding tears, the dark-faced King, thirty
years old to-day, glancing quickly around him, the saturnine mouth
relaxed in a smile, as he bowed to right and left. No wonder that he
could remark with easy cynicism that no doubt it must be his own fault
that his coming had been so long delayed, since everyone was so glad to
see him.
Just behind the King came his brothers, side by side.
As James, Duke of York, reined his fretting horse with practised skill,
he looked in his costly attire a very comely prince in the eyes of his
brother’s lieges. Yellow ribbons were fluttering from his shoulders,
fleecy white plumes waved from his hat over the long brown curls which
framed the proud and handsome face. He was now twenty-six, already a
soldier of tried capacity, and as one of the Intelligencers of London
had already said of him, “cried up for the most accomplished gentleman
both in arms and courtesie that graces the French Court.”[90] So people
wrote and thought, yet this reputation was for the most part left behind
him when he crossed the Channel.
Footnote 90:
“Queen Anne and her Court,” P. F. Williams Ryan. “The Duke of York,
besides being an able Captain and successful administrator, was a man
of many accomplishments, acquired by association with the most
polished society of Western Europe.”
It was the fate of James Stuart, as it has often been the fate of
obscure persons, just to miss the appreciation which in some measure he
really deserved. His elder brother’s careless good humour and the grace
of manner which concealed so much selfish indifference won for Charles
II. from his people, weary of long repression and smarting under
unwelcome conditions, an amount of real affection which was certainly
both unreasonable and undeserved, but which nevertheless lasted for his
lifetime, and made him one of the most popular sovereigns of his
country.
James, on the other hand, because he lacked just those superficial
attributes was, to the bitter end, mistrusted and misunderstood. He was
not clever in any sense, possessing none of the brilliant gifts which
Charles misused and flung away with absolute recklessness; but as
Buckingham, with his rapid, mordant apprehension, once said of the
brothers: “The King (Charles II.) could see things if he would, and the
Duke would see things if he could.”[91]
Footnote 91:
Bishop Burnet’s “History of My Own Time.”
If he could—there was the key of the whole position. When the supreme
moment of his life arrived, James proved absolutely blind to the issues
involved—he could not see.
As to his better qualities, Bishop Burnet, as already mentioned at no
time a friend to the Duke of York, was forced to admit his personal
courage. “He was very brave in youth, and so much magnified by Marshal
Turenne, that till his marriage he really clouded the King, and passed
for the superior genius.” Also it is acknowledged that he was “a firm
friend till affairs and his religion wore out all his first principles
and inclinations.”
That same grace of constancy in friendship is endorsed by all his
biographers, and unhappily it was in many cases to prove his undoing. He
could not withdraw his confidence once given, and he was utterly blind
to the faults of his friends, clinging to them through good and evil
report, and in this respect he must be cleared of the charge of
fickleness.
Presently we shall see how this insensate belief in his friends, and
misapprehension of their motives, was to operate in the drama of his
marriage, which was nearly thereby shipwrecked.
He had no gifts as a letter writer (in which capacity Charles II.
certainly excelled, judging from the correspondence which survives[92])
and in speech he even stammered slightly, for which reason he was
habitually silent. But while Charles was incurably idle, letting life
drift by on the surface of a jest, and unutterably bored whenever he was
forced to work (though no man knew better how to apply when put to it),
James was plodding, methodical, diligent, though he got little credit
for it, then nor later.
Footnote 92:
Granger’s “Biographical History of England.”
This difference, apart from diversity of temperament, may be partly
accounted for by the circumstances of the brothers’ early life. Charles
during his years of exile was for the most part condemned to inaction,
while James gained in the arena of European warfare, under the eye of
the greatest generals of his day, the habit of action and of eager
disposal of his time.
One more contrast is to be noted.
Charles deliberately allowed himself to sink deeper and deeper into the
mire of degrading vice, successfully stifling the voice of his
conscience, till to all appearance it ceased to trouble him. James, on
the other hand, greatly as he had shared in the prevailing sins of his
age, never lost the uneasy sense of remorse, and certainly for the last
fifteen years of his life tried to atone for his stained youth by
fervent and real penitence. Moreover it is to be reckoned in his favour
that he never tolerated any sneers at religion in his presence.
For the rest, he loved England with even passionate fervour. To his
dying day he steadily and enthusiastically extolled his
fellow-countrymen, banished though he was from the land that was so dear
to him; nor could he refrain from sympathetic admiration of his English
sailors for their daring gallantry at La Hogue, a gallantry displayed as
it was against himself, when with the navy of France he made one more
fruitless attempt to regain his lost kingdom.[93] Grammont, gay,
careless, superficial, was yet able to sum up the character of the Duke
with unusual gravity and deliberation. He bore the “reputation of
undaunted courage, inviolable attachment for his word, great economy in
his affairs, hauteur, application, arrogance, each in their turn, a
scrupulous observer of the rules of duty and the laws of justice; he was
accounted a faithful friend and an implacable enemy.”[94]
Footnote 93:
Granger’s “Biographical History of England.”
Footnote 94:
“Memoir of the Court of Charles II.,” by Count Grammont, ed. by Sir
Walter Scott, revised ed. 1846.
Lastly, let it be said of James Stuart that he cannot be denied the
courage of his opinions, mistaken though they were, and grievously as he
erred in enforcing them.
------------------------------------------------------------------------