[Transcriber's note: This production is based on
http://www.archive.org/details/popularhistoryeng03guiz]
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Execution Of King Charles.
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A Popular History Of England
From the Earliest Times
_To The Reign Of Queen Victoria_
By
M. Guizot
Author of "The Popular History or France," etc.
_Authorized Edition_
Illustrated
Vol. III
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Publisher's Logo: ALDI DISCIP ANGLVS
New York
John W. Lovell Company
150 Worth Street, corner Mission Place
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List Of Illustrations.
Volume Three.
Execution of King Charles. -- Frontispiece.
The Gunpowder Plot Discovered. -- 14
Sir Walter Raleigh. -- 28
Assassination of Buckingham. -- 44
Queen Henrietta Maria. -- 85
Death of Hampden. -- 104
Battle of Marston Moor. -- 118
Will you go upon your Death? -- 134
Fairfax kissing the King's hand. -- 156
Portrait of Lord Fairfax. -- 172
King Charles' Children. -- 194
Cromwell dismissing the Long Parliament. -- 244
Cromwell at the Death-Bed of his Daughter. -- 278
Richard Cromwell. -- 282
Charles II. -- 292
Portrait of Monk. -- 296
Lambert. -- 302
Lambert confronted by Colonel Morley. -- 304
Effacing the Inscriptions. -- 328
Charles at the House of Lady Castlemaine. -- 352
Portrait of Monmouth. -- 378
Lord Russell's Trial. -- 388
James II. -- 396
Remember, Sire, I am your Brother's Son. -- 414
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Table Of Contents.
Chapter XXII. James I. (1603-1625) -- 9
Chapter XXIII. Charles I. and his Government (1625-1642) -- 42
Chapter XXIV. Charles I. and the Civil War. -- 92
Chapter XXV. Charles I. and Cromwell.
Captivity, Trial, and Death of the King. -- 157
Chapter XXVI. The Commonwealth and Cromwell (1649-1653) -- 199
Chapter XXVII. Cromwell Protector (1653-1658) -- 247
Chapter XXVIII. Protectorate of Richard Cromwell
(1658-1659) -- 282
Chapter XIX. The Restoration of the Stuarts (1659-1660) -- 293
Chapter XXX. Charles II. (1660-1685) -- 342
Chapter XXXI. James II. and the Revolution (1685-1688) -- 396
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Guizot's
History Of England,
Vol. III.
From the Accession of James I.,
to the Expulsion of James II.,
1603-1688.
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History Of England.
Chapter XXII.
James I. (1603-1625).
Scarcely had the soul of Queen Elizabeth taken farewell of her
body when a distant cousin of the great sovereign, Sir Robert
Carey, posted to Scotland, being advised of her death by his
sister, Lady Scrope, who formed part of the royal household.
Cecil and the members of the council, outdistanced by the haste
of the courtier, had at least the advantage, in despatching their
emissaries to Edinburgh, of being able to announce to the king
that he had been solemnly proclaimed in London a few hours after
the death of Elizabeth. The wise promptitude of Cecil forestalled
any foreign pretension. The only person who might have urged her
rights to the throne, Lady Arabella Stuart, cousin-german of the
King of Scotland by her father, and descending as he did, from
Henry VII., was in good keeping. None thought of stipulating for
a few guarantees in favor of the liberties of the country or for
the reform of the abuses grown old with the royal power. The
great men of the council expected the reward of their intrigues
in favor of the new king, and public opinion saw with
satisfaction the prospect of a union with Scotland, which
promised to put an end to the continual wars between the two
kingdoms. The Scots hoped to enrich themselves in England.
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No one was more in need of such an opportunity than the king. His
Majesty James VI. of Scotland, now also James I. of England, was
so poor that he could not set out for his new kingdom until Cecil
sent him money. He had, besides, no desire to encounter in death
the sovereign whom he had so much dreaded during her lifetime,
and the journey, begun on the 6th of April, proceeded so slowly
that Elizabeth had for three weeks been sleeping in her tomb when
her successor at length arrived, on the 3d of May, at Theobalds,
in Hertfordshire, the country house of Sir Robert Cecil, where
all the members of the council awaited him. On his way he had
lavished the honor of knighthood upon all who had asked for it;
since his departure from Scotland he had made a hundred and
forty-eight knights. Cecil took advantage of the sojourn which
the king made at Theobalds to completely gain his favor. Alone,
among the colleagues of whom he was jealous, the Earl of
Northumberland contrived to preserve his honors. Lord Cobham,
Lord Grey, and especially Sir Walter Raleigh, were disgraced. The
first concession granted to the wishes of the nation was the
suspension of all the monopolies. This favor was proclaimed, on
the 7th of May, upon the entrance of the king into the city of
London. Severe measures with regard to hunting immediately
followed the arrival of the monarch, who was passionately fond of
that amusement.
The plague had broken out in London and delayed the coronation,
but it did not hinder the conspiracies. The powerful hand of
Elizabeth had been able to keep down, but could not prevent them.
Her successor might disparage the wisdom and prudence of the
government of the great queen who had raised him to his throne;
but he was destined to see his authority often threatened and
disowned.
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He began by making himself a dangerous enemy in depriving Raleigh
not only of his place in the council, but of the honors and
monopolies which constituted his fortune. The favor which the
king manifested naturally enough to his Scottish friends made
other malcontents. The Catholics, at first allured by the
promises of James, saw him turn to the side of the Anglican
Church. "I make the judges," he said joyfully during his journey
from Scotland to England; "I make the bishops. By God's wounds, I
can do as I please, then, with the law and the Gospel." He
necessarily inclined to the side of power. Raleigh, Cobham, and
Grey, supported for some time by the Earl of Northumberland,
still an enemy of Cecil, found support among the priests and
lesser Catholic gentlemen, to whom the Puritans allied
themselves. The conspirators proposed to take possession of the
person of the king, to induce him, it was said, to change his
ministers. Before the day fixed upon, all the conspirators were
arrested. Sir Walter Raleigh and Lord Cobham were conducted to
the Tower. The plague delayed the judgment as it had delayed the
coronation. The trial of Raleigh was, besides, difficult to
conduct. Cecil took all the care that the matter deserved. Lord
Cobham, in cowardly alarm, betrayed his accomplice. Both were
accused of having sought to assassinate James in order to raise
to the throne Lady Arabella Stuart. Raleigh defended himself in
person with all the intelligence, all the animation, all the
indomitable courage of which he had so many times given proof
during his adventurous life. He was nevertheless condemned as
well as Lord Cobham and Lord Grey.
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All three were pardoned when Cobham and Grey were already upon
the scaffold. The tragic adventures of Sir Walter Raleigh were
not yet at an end.
The king hunted in peace since the conspirators, who had so
greatly alarmed him, were in the Tower. He also indulged in the
pleasure of theological polemics. As long as he was King of
Scotland he was obliged to accept the yoke of the Puritans. Happy
to escape from them, he pursued them in his new kingdom with
bitter rancor. Suddenly smitten with the episcopacy, he discussed
personally with the doctors favorable to Presbyterian principles.
"No bishops, no king," exclaimed James, who did not leave his
adversaries time to reply. Then, making use of the prerogative
which he so resolutely claimed, he gave orders to all his
subjects to conform themselves to the ordinances, doctrines, and
ceremonies of the Church of England, authorizing the bishops to
dismiss from their livings those of the clergy who refused to
obey. More than three hundred pastors were thus deprived suddenly
of their functions as well as their means of subsistence. A great
number proceeded abroad; others remained in their country, and
the spies, formerly exclusively commissioned to ferret out the
Catholics who dared to hear mass, added to this duty that of
discovering the secret meetings which the dismissed pastors often
held even in their former parishes. King James was preparing by
religious persecution that great Puritan party which was to
contribute so powerfully to the overthrow of his son.
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Parliament assembled on the 19th of March, 1604, and the leaven
of opposition which had already appeared under Elizabeth, was not
wanting in the first relations of the new sovereign with the
representatives of his people. The contested election of Mr.
Goodwin marked the commencement of the struggle. The Commons had
the audacity to complain of some abuses, and they did not prove
themselves generous in voting supplies. King James was profoundly
imbued with the doctrine which he had promulgated in a pamphlet
entitled, _The true Law of free Monarchies_, namely, that
the king has the right of commanding, and the subject the duty of
obeying. He pronounced as soon as possible the dissolution of
Parliament; but the Commons had, nevertheless, time to call the
royal attention to the Papists, recommending them to all the
rigor of the laws. The bishops and the Puritans were agreed upon
this point. The enormous fines regularly imposed upon the
Catholics for their absence from the established worship, were
exacted with a severity that filled the coffers of the king while
ruining numerous families. James had claimed all the arrears for
one year. The wealthy Papists were threatened with judicial
prosecutions. They knew the sentence beforehand. Many ransomed
their lives by the payment of large sums. The king began to hunt
again, and forbade any one to speak to him of business on the
days which he devoted to that pastime. The counties which he
honored with his presence groaned under the burden. One of the
hounds of his Majesty appeared one morning bearing upon his neck
a petition addressed to him conceived thus: "Good Medor, we beg
you to speak to his Majesty, who hears you every day and does not
listen to us, that he may kindly return to London to his
business, for our provisions are exhausted, and we shall have
nothing left to give him to eat." The king laughed and remained
where he was; but matters were preparing in London to recall him.
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Among the Catholics ruined by the successive exactions which they
had suffered was Robert Catesby, a renegade in his youth, but who
returned with zeal to the faith of his fathers, and had since
then engaged in all the Catholic intrigues. Weary of persecution,
and seeing no hope of relief either in the anterior promises of
the king, or in the influence of Spain which had been counted
upon to some extent, he conceived the atrocious project of
causing all the persecutors to perish at a blow--King, Lords,
and Commons, upon the opening of Parliament convoked for the 7th
of February, 1605. Prudent and circumspect, he sought
accomplices. Thomas Winter, a gentleman and a Catholic like
himself, formerly employed by Spain in the Low Countries, only
consented to enter into the plot after having asked the Spaniards
if they had no longer any hope. Upon his return from Ostend, with
a reply in the negative, he brought back a former comrade, Guy
Fawkes, a soldier of fortune, resolute and fanatical like the two
other conspirators. Seven persons in all were bound by the most
solemn oath, and the plotters set to work in a house which they
had taken beside Whitehall, under the name of Percy, one of the
conspirators, an officer of the royal household. They reckoned
upon digging a mine which was to extend beneath the Houses of
Parliament. "No one set to work to dig or to transport the powder
who was not a gentleman," said Fawkes, in his examination. "While
the others worked I acted as sentinel, and the work was stopped
if any passer-by appeared." The stores were deposited at Lambeth,
on the other side of the river. They were brought in small
quantities as the subterranean passage progressed.
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The Gunpowder Plot Discovered.
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Twice the work was suspended: the prorogation of Parliament was
prolonged--at first until the month of October, then until
November. The conspirators, who were no longer pressed for time,
separated in order not to arouse suspicion. At the end of May the
work was completed. They had been able to take a cellar which
extended beneath the floor of the House of Lords. Thirty-six
barrels of powder were deposited therein; but to these minds,
agitated by dark designs and burdened with a weighty secret,
idleness was fatal. They were, besides, nearly all without
resources, and the successive delays brought about in their
enterprise placed them in a great embarrassment. The want of
money induced Catesby, still the prime mover in the plot, to
admit among the conspirators two rich men upon whom he thought he
could rely. One, Sir Everard Digby, promised to invite to a great
hunting expedition all the Catholic gentlemen, members of
Parliament, whose lives it was desired to save. The other,
Tresham, a relative of Catesby, and already compromised with him
in certain intrigues, undertook to provide the necessary funds;
but scarcely had he taken the oath when the confidence with which
Catesby had hitherto been animated suddenly failed him. He became
dispirited: day and night he felt himself haunted by the most
sinister forebodings.
All was ready; Prince Charles, the second son of King James, was
to be proclaimed by Catesby at Charing Cross at the moment of the
destruction of Whitehall. Tresham was to depart in a ship
freighted for that purpose, and repair to Flanders to invoke the
assistance of the Catholic powers.
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Guy Fawkes was entrusted to set fire to the mine. The general
meeting-place was at Dunchurch. The uneasiness of the greater
number of the accomplices was concerning their friends, whom they
were afraid of making the victims of their enterprise. Catesby
had, it was said, taken steps for keeping a great number of
Catholics away from Whitehall. "But were they as dear to me as my
own son, they should be blown up with the rest rather than cause
the affair to fail," he added. Meanwhile, on the 26th of October,
ten days before the opening of Parliament, Lord Monteagle,
father-in-law of Tresham, received a letter in a disguised hand,
enjoining him not to repair to Whitehall on the 5th of November.
"The Parliament will receive a terrible blow," said the anonymous
writer, "and yet they shall not see who hurts them."
Lord Monteagle immediately carried the warning to Cecil. On the
morrow the conspirators learnt that they were betrayed. Nothing
happened, however, to show that the mine had been discovered. Guy
Fawkes recognized all his secret marks again, and,
notwithstanding the growing uneasiness engendered by the
information received, Guy Fawkes continued to mount guard in the
cellar. The other conspirators waited the event with the courage
of insanity. On the 4th, in the daytime, Fawkes was at his post
when the Earl of Suffolk, High Chamberlain, entrusted with the
preparations for the opening of Parliament, appeared at the door
of the cellar. He cast a careless look around him. The barrels of
powder were hidden beneath a heap of wood and fagots. "Your
master has made great provision of fuel," he said to Fawkes, who
had represented himself as the servant of Percy, and he quitted
the dangerous cellar. Fawkes hastily gave intimation to Percy,
who had remained in London, then he returned to his mine. At two
o'clock in the morning he was arrested.
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All the conspirators had taken to flight. Catesby still hoped to
rouse the Catholics to insurrection, but none responded to the
appeal. On the 7th of November they were assembled together in a
house at Holbeach, upon the borders of Staffordshire, being
resolved to perish to the last man in defending themselves. Sir
Robert Walsh, sheriff of Worcester, caused the residence to be
surrounded by his troops. There was no means of escaping, the
house had already been fired. "Stay, fool!" cried Catesby to
Winter, "we will die together." Both grasped their swords and
sprang upon the assailants. They were immediately killed. Several
others perished likewise. Sir Everard Digby was arrested, as well
as other less distinguished conspirators. Tresham had remained
quietly in London, counting upon his treachery to save him. He
was arrested and taken to the Tower with his accomplices.
Guy Fawkes had, meanwhile, been questioned by the king himself.
Indomitable even in the ruin of his hopes and the mortal peril in
which he was situated: "How could you bear the thought of causing
my children and so many innocent persons to perish?" said King
James. "For desperate ills there must be desperate remedies,"
replied the bold conspirator. "Why did you collect so much
powder?" asked a Scottish courtier. "I had purposed to cause all
the Scots to be blown as far as Scotland," Fawkes said gravely.
He was several times put to the torture, always refusing to tell
the names of his accomplices.
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He was assured they had fled and were arrested. "It is useless
then to name them," maintained Fawkes, "they have named
themselves." It was through Bates, a servant of Catesby, that the
complicity of the Jesuits Greenway and Garnet was discovered.
Tresham had also given evidence against them, but being attacked
in his prison with a serious illness he retracted his
accusations, and died on the 23d of December, not without some
suspicion of poison.
Greenway had succeeded in escaping; but Garnet, a provincial of
the order of Jesuits, was arrested with Oldcorne, one of his own
order. Both were submitted to torture; both finally confessed
their knowledge of the plot, which, they said, they had often
opposed, the order of Pope Paul V. being to suffer all and to win
by patience the crown of life. In spite of the skill and
eloquence of Garnet the two Jesuits suffered death; but Garnet
was not executed till the 3d of May. All the conspirators who had
fallen into the hands of justice had expiated their crime on the
30th of January. Oldcorne died at the end of February.
The terror which the plot occasioned, the horror excited in all
classes of society, of which we still find the traces in the
custom of burning in the streets upon the 5th of November, an
effigy that bears the name of Guy Fawkes, fell upon the
Catholics, who were persecuted in a mass with fresh rigor, even
though they were strangers to the conspiracy. It was Parliament
that urged the king into this fatal path. The ministers were
obliged to moderate the ardor of the members who had been
threatened with being blown into the air with his Majesty.
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Royal visits amused James, and relieved him for awhile from the
anxieties which his people occasioned him. The King of Denmark,
brother-in-law of the King of England, who had married Anne of
Denmark, and the Prince of Vaudemont, of the House of Guise,
spent a few weeks in England, setting the courtiers an example of
debauchery which did not prevent James from continuing to discuss
all the theological questions of the time, in writing or by word
of mouth, with Catholics as well as Puritans. He would always
cause his adversaries to be thrown into prison when their reasons
became too powerful, a resource especially valuable when it
happened, as in 1607, an insurrection broke out during the
discussions. A question had arisen, as in the days of Edward VI.,
of the right of enclosure. The people of Northamptonshire,
Warwickshire, and Leicestershire, claimed, with arms in their
hands, the pasturage of waste lands. When the king was assured
that it was not a plot of his theological antagonists, the
insurrection was soon repressed, without revealing the extreme
weakness of the government and the indolence of the king as well
as of his ministers.
Parliament rejected the favorite project of James, who desired to
unite not only the two crowns, but the two nations of England and
Scotland by common laws and a common religion. The plan was good
and useful, but premature. Scotland rejected it angrily, fearing
to be subjected to England. The latter rejected it with disdain,
asserting that the beggars of Scotland already came to England in
sufficiently numerous bands, without its being necessary to make
Englishmen of them. The subsidies were not voted. The king,
dissatisfied, abandoned his proposals; but for two years he did
not convoke Parliament.
{20}
It was necessity alone which compelled him, in 1610, to claim the
co-operation of his people in filling the treasury. Cecil, who
had become successively Lord Cranborne and Earl of Salisbury, now
sat at the Treasury and proposed enormous subsidies to the
Commons; but Parliament presented a petition of grievances, and
refused to vote anything without being assured of the redress of
its wrongs. Negotiations were carried on for several months.
Parliament at length granted a greatly reduced subsidy, without
having obtained all that it demanded in return. A weak, indolent
monarch, often indifferent concerning the most important affairs,
James was as obstinate when it was a question of his prerogative
as he was in matters of theology. Cecil died, it is said, of the
sorrows and vexations which Parliament had compelled him to
endure in the two sessions of 1610 and 1611. He expired on the
24th of May, 1612. Cunning and avaricious as his father, he had
not always given proof of that greatness of purpose and firmness
of resolve which made Burleigh the worthy minister of Queen
Elizabeth.
While the king was discussing with the Dutchman Conrad Vorstein,
upon the nature and attributes of the divinity, demanding of the
States of Holland the banishment of his adversary, Lady Arabella
Stuart, whose name had so often served as a watchword for
conspiracies, without her ever having been implicated in them
herself, for the first time in her life had become a plotter. Her
object, however, was simply to marry William Seymour, grandson of
the Earl of Hereford, to whom she had been attached from infancy.
When the secret was discovered, the princess was imprisoned at
Lambeth, and her husband thrown into the Tower. She saw him,
however, sometimes, and being forcibly removed to Durham, she
contrived to escape.
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Seymour also fled from his prison. Both desired only to live
together abroad; but the husband alone reached a free country.
The poor Lady Arabella was arrested aboard the vessel which was
taking her across the Channel, and consigned to the Tower for the
remainder of her life. She lost her reason and died in 1615, long
forgotten even by those who had dreaded her name.
The favorites of James I. succeeded each other in the royal
household without intermission, often arousing the jealousy of
the queen. These favorites were loaded with riches and honors
while they were all-powerful, abandoned and forgotten when they
were replaced by others, unless they possessed some dangerous
secret. Robert Carr or Ker, of an old Border family, had recently
taken possession of this envied position, when Cecil died, in
1612. Still young, but having already become Viscount Rochester,
a member of the Privy Council, and Knight of the Garter, he was
created Lord Chamberlain, and fulfilled the functions of
Secretary of State, thanks to the assistance of one of his
friends, Sir Thomas Overbury, who was destined to pay dearly for
the honor. Sinister rumors soon began to circulate concerning
Rochester himself.
Prince Henry, the eldest son of James, was the idol of the
people. Handsome, well formed, brave, bold, and skillful in all
bodily exercises, he had, it was said, chosen the Black Prince
for his model, and was studying the science of war with more
pleasure than letters and theology. The pedantry of his father
was odious to him, and he did not scruple to blame his actions.
{22}
A great admirer of Sir Walter Raleigh, who was still imprisoned
in the Tower, he often said that no other king than his father
would keep such a bird in a cage. "He has become a man too soon
to live long," it was said among the people. Yet the greatest
hopes were founded on him. His life was regular, and his opinions
appeared to incline to the side of the Puritans, the real party
of the people, who looked upon him as the liberator promised by
the Scriptures. King James was afraid of his son. "Will he bury
me alive?" he said, when he heard of the multitude which
surrounded the young prince. He endeavored, meanwhile, to marry
his son, first to the Infanta of Spain, then to the Princess
Christine of France; but the negotiations proceeded slowly, and
the English people flattered themselves with hopes of a
Protestant alliance, like that which had recently been concluded
for the young Princess Elizabeth, betrothed to the Count Palatine
Frederick V. This prince had arrived in England, on the 16th of
October, 1612, for the celebration of the marriage, when Prince
Henry, who had been for some time ill, suffered a sudden relapse.
He was weak, and appeared to be in a state of stupor. An
energetic will still triumphed, however, over the disease. He
raised himself several times, appeared in public and dined with
the king. But the strength of the young man was declining
rapidly. His physicians were not agreed as to the nature of the
illness. On the 5th of November, the king was informed of the
desperate condition of his son. The prince was in London; but the
king, dreading the sorrow which awaited him, immediately set out
for Theobalds, of which Cecil had formerly given up the ownership
to him, and awaited the event from afar. The prince died on the
6th of November, 1612, amidst general grief, mingled with
indignation.
{23}
Rochester was everywhere accused of having poisoned the prince,
although the accusation had no appearance of foundation. Henry
had grown too rapidly, and had not strength to bear the attacks
of a putrid fever. The king did not manifest for his son the same
regret as his people. He immediately resumed for Prince Charles
the negotiations of marriage begun for Prince Henry, and
celebrated, on the 13th of February, 1613, the nuptials of his
daughter with a pomp and splendor which were to be the only
satisfaction of the young princess, who was prematurely destined
to suffer from the difficulties and trials of the regal state.
The king was more than ever embarrassed for money. He endeavored
to contract loans; he re-established and increased all the
monopolies; he sold to all comers the honors of knighthood, a new
intermediate order between the nobility and the common people,
which was soon after to take the title of "baronetage;" but the
avidity of the courtiers, the prodigality of the king, in
ministering both to his own pleasures and to those of his
favorites, as well as old debts which oppressed him, exhausted
all resources. It was necessary to have recourse to Parliament.
Sir Francis Bacon, formerly a dependent of the Earl of Essex,
afterwards his accuser, one of the greatest minds and the most
despicable characters in a period accustomed to such contrast,
made a promise to James to undertake the task of making
Parliament obey. Rochester, who had become Earl of Somerset,
joined him. They were called with regard to this the
_undertakers_. The Commons assembled in ill-humor. They had
received intelligence of the audacious project formed to
constrain them.
{24}
They consulted the Lords upon the right of the king to establish
various taxes. The Upper House refused the conference, but the
subsidies were not voted. The king caused Parliament to be warned
that he would dissolve it if it did not fulfill its task, the
only one for which it was convoked. Parliament replied that it
would not vote as long as the grievances were not redressed. It
was dissolved, not to be called for six whole years. Parliament
had not voted a single act, but it had powerfully contributed to
establish that independence of the House which was soon to strike
the death-blow to absolute power in England.
The star of a new favorite who was destined to have a hand in the
work of shaking the foundations of the throne had already become
visible above the horizon. George Villiers, known in history
under the name of Buckingham, had begun to take the place of the
Earl of Somerset in the heart of the king. The latter had
recently married the Countess of Essex, who had been separated by
divorce from her husband, the son of the unfortunate favorite of
Queen Elizabeth. Somerset and his wife were accused by the public
voice of having imprisoned, then poisoned an old friend of
theirs, Sir Thomas Overbury. The growing favor of Villiers gave
to the enemies of the declining favorite courage to denounce him
to the king. The great judge Coke, rival of Bacon, adopted the
low calumny circulated against Somerset, and accused him also of
having poisoned Prince Henry. Several accomplices were arrested
and the assassination of Overbury was proved; but the connivance
of Somerset remained doubtful. Justice proceeded against him
slowly and as though regretfully; the tone of the earl was often
haughty; the king intervened in his favor: the favorite had been
initiated into many important secrets.
{25}
Bacon conducted the affair with consummate prudence and ability.
The countess was separately condemned to death. Somerset being
declared guilty in his turn, was pardoned, as was his countess:
and the earl received royal gifts even after retirement to his
country seat, which was soon afterwards granted to him as a
prison. Either through fear or from a lingering affection, James
I. did not abandon his former favorite, notwithstanding his
growing passion for a new face. George Villiers was henceforth to
reign undividedly over the father as well as the son. Prince
Charles had assumed the title of Prince of Wales; his friendship
for Villiers equalled that of the king.
Fourteen years had passed since James had quitted Scotland, and
he had never visited his hereditary kingdom; he had no money for
that purpose; but the States of Holland, free from the war with
Spain since the recognition of their independence in 1609, had
recently paid their debts to England, and the journey to Scotland
was resolved upon. The king besides had a great task to achieve
there; he was laboring to establish religious uniformity among
his subjects. Twelve years previously he had undertaken to found
the episcopacy in Scotland. Persecution, imprisonment, exile had
by degrees disposed of the chiefs of the resistance. Welch and
Decry, condemned to death, then to banishment, had retired
abroad. Old Andrew Melvil, called to London for a conference, and
forcibly detained, as his nephew had already been, had left the
latter in his prison in Scotland, where he died. At this period
Melvil was living at Sedan, ever indomitable in his aversion to
the episcopacy and his
support of the rights of a free-born Scot.
{26}
James had in Scotland an agent as able as he was unscrupulous.
Sir George Hume, whom he had made Earl of Dunbar, succeeded at
length, partly by intimidation, partly by corruption, in imposing
silence upon the Scottish clergy. Two courts of high commission
still more tyrannical than those of London, were sitting at St.
Andrew's and Glasgow when the king arrived in Scotland, in 1617.
Parliament presented for the royal sanction the bill which
definitively constituted the episcopal Church; but a remonstrance
from the clergy arrested the arm of the king as he extended the
sceptre to give the authority of law to the project; the bill was
withdrawn, the episcopacy was held to be established by the royal
prerogative, and the refractory were cited before the high
commission. Calderwood went to swell the band of Scottish exiles
upon the Continent, and the people, deprived of the religious
form which pleased them and to which they were accustomed,
allowed their resentment to slumber until the day when the
Covenant was to protest against the work of the father as
developed by the son.
King James had been much vexed in Scotland by the strict
observance of the "Sabbath." When he set out to return to
England, he composed a work to which he gave the authority of
law, under the title of _The Book of Sports_. Under the
pretext of regulating the pleasures permitted on Sunday, this new
ordinance forbade the respectful observances which marked among
the Puritans the rest of the seventh day. The _Book of
Sports_ was ill received by the majority of the population.
They refused to be merry by compulsion, and the new arm, more
dangerous to royalty than to the Puritans, lay in the arsenal of
despotism, until Archbishop Laud subsequently drew it forth for
his own injury as well as that of his master.
{27}
At the moment of leaving Scotland, the king had raised Bacon to
the dignity of Keeper of the Seals and had entrusted extensive
powers to him. This royal favor had turned the brain of the
illustrious lawyer, who had affected the dignity of king during
the absence of the legitimate monarch. Upon his return, however,
Bacon resumed his accustomed humility in presence of the great
men of the land. After waiting for two days at the door of
Villiers, who had become Duke of Buckingham, he at length
obtained admission, and threw himself prostrate before the
favorite, kissing his feet. He did not rise until he had obtained
his pardon. "I was obliged to kneel myself before the king to
make him revoke your disgrace," said the haughty favorite to the
repentant magistrate. The disgrace had reference especially to
the part which Bacon had played in a project of marriage for the
brother of Villiers with the grand-daughter of Coke. The union
was accomplished, but Coke only gained by the sacrifice of his
grand-daughter a place in the Council, while Bacon, reconciled
with Buckingham, became Chancellor and Lord Verulam, thus adding
fresh riches to the treasures which he dissipated as quickly as
he acquired them.
Bacon was not the only person who sold justice and favor.
Buckingham, his family, and his friends, were publicly
trafficking in offices, posts, and titles, which were even
imposed sometimes upon those who did not ask for them. The
favorite was created a Marquis and appointed High Admiral, to the
detriment of the aged Howard, formerly commander of the fleet
that had vanquished the Armada.
{28}
Trials, skillfully conducted by Bacon and Coke, added fines and
confiscations to the produce of the malversations. All articles
of primary necessity were the subject of monopolies. The people
regretted Somerset, and still more the wise administration and
economy of Queen Elizabeth.
Amidst the system of plunder which he tolerated, the king was
still poor. He had for a moment hoped for a fresh source of
wealth; Sir Walter Raleigh, still confined in the Tower, had
succeeded in bringing to the knowledge of the king the details of
a gold-mine, which he had formerly discovered in Guiana. Raleigh
was quite ready to direct an expedition, promising to pay all
expenses himself and asking from the king nothing but his
liberty. A fifth of all the profits was to belong to the Crown.
James hesitated for a long time. He dreaded the valor of Raleigh,
which might involve him in a war with Spain; but the skillful
adventurer contrived to purchase the good-will of the favorite.
Raleigh issued forth from the Tower, free, but not pardoned.
Protesting his pacific intentions with regard to the Spaniards,
he set sail on the 28th of March, 1617, as King James was
preparing to start for Scotland.
From the moment of its departure misfortune attended the
expedition of Raleigh: sickness decimated his crews and stretched
him upon a bed of suffering. He found the Spaniards warned of his
approach and disposed to oppose his progress. The little squadron
which he commissioned to ascend the river Oronoco, in search of
the gold-mine, was attacked by the Spaniards of the town of St.
Thomas; in return, the English captured and burnt down the town.
[Image]
Sir Walter Raleigh.
{29}
The son of Raleigh was killed, the crews mutinied, and the
expedition returned without gold and almost without soldiers. Sir
Walter Raleigh, distracted with grief and anger, flew into a
passion with Captain Kemyss, who commanded the detachment; his
old friend, in despair, killed himself. Other captains abandoned
their unfortunate chief. The sailors were in revolt, those who
remained urged Sir Walter to return to former methods, and to
overrun the sea and the coasts with them in order to seize and
pillage the Spanish ships and settlements. Raleigh resisted, not
without some efforts and relapses. He set sail, however, for
England. When he landed in the month of June, 1618, he learnt
that a warrant of arrest had been issued against him. Spain had
complained of the capture of St. Thomas. The governor, who had
been killed, was a relative of Gondomar, the ambassador in
England; the latter had raised the cry of piracy and made threats
of royal vengeance. The moment was fatal to Raleigh. James was
negotiating for the marriage of his son with the Infanta, Donna
Anna, daughter of Philip III. He was resolved to please Spain at
any price. Raleigh was soon lodged in the Tower once more. "The
guilty man is in our hands," wrote Buckingham to Gondomar, "and
we have seized his ships; if it please the king your lord, his
Majesty will punctually fulfill his engagements, by sending the
criminals to suffer their punishment in Spain, unless he should
find it more satisfactory and exemplary that the chastisement
should be inflicted upon them in England." Philip III. deigned to
entrust this business to King James.
{30}
Raleigh was still under the weight of the old sentence of death
pronounced against him fifteen years previously, without which it
would have been difficult to convict him this time of a crime
involving capital punishment. "Your recent offences have roused
the justice of his Majesty," declared the great judge Montague;
"May God have mercy on your soul!" Weak and ill as he was,
Raleigh defended himself with as much skill as complacency. He
asked for a short delay, in order to put his affairs in order.
"Not," he said, "that I desire to gain a minute of existence.
Old, sick, and dishonored, and approaching my end, life has
become wearisome to me." It was, indeed, the expression of
supreme weariness in this man, who had always loved life more
than he had dreaded death, even according to the statements of
his enemies. The respite was refused. Lady Raleigh, on going to
say farewell to her husband, announced to him that she had
obtained the favor of receiving his body after the execution. The
hideous punishment of traitors had been commuted. Raleigh was to
be beheaded. "Well done, Bess," he said, smiling; "it is
fortunate that you will be able to dispose in death of a husband
whom you have not always had when alive at your disposal." He had
cast aside, by an effort of his powerful will, all the ambitious
projects, all the romantic, adventurous, strange ideas, which
still crowded in his brain. The greatness of his soul, often
darkened during lifetime by many faults and even vices, was freed
from the dark mist at the hour of death. On the 29th of October
he was calm, grave, pious. He received the sacrament before
walking to the scaffold, erected at Westminster. An immense crowd
surrounded it. He addressed the people and made a long speech,
protesting his innocence. The morning was cold.
{31}
It was proposed to the condemned man that he should warm himself
for an instant before the fatal moment. "No," said Raleigh, "it
is the day of my ague; if I were to tremble presently, my enemies
will say I quake for fear. It were better to have done with it."
He knelt, uttering aloud a beautiful prayer. He touched the axe,
"'Tis a sharp medicine, but a sound cure for all diseases," he
said, and he laid his head upon the block. The executioner
delayed. "What do you fear?" exclaimed Raleigh; "strike." His
head fell immediately. The great soldier, the illustrious sailor,
the statesman, the scholar, the incomparable adventurer, was not
yet sixty-seven years of age. King James had truckled to Spain,
and had added one more stain to his name.
One of the most implacable of the judges who were the instruments
of the ruin of Raleigh was already threatened in his exalted
seat. At the beginning of 1621 the king was compelled to convoke
a Parliament, to obtain the subsidies which he needed. His
son-in-law, the Elector-Palatine, placed by the Protestant
faction on the throne of Bohemia, had imprudently accepted that
offer without measuring the opposition which was about to be
raised against him on the part of the Catholics of the Empire. He
was now in danger of being driven from Bohemia, and deprived at
the same time of his hereditary states. The Lower Palatinate had
been attacked by the Catholic armies. James hesitated, lamented,
cursing the ambition of his son-in-law, which had placed this
business upon his shoulders; but he had already sent a small army
corps to his assistance, and promised larger reinforcements.
Parliament alone could place him in a position to keep his
promises.
{32}
Parliament had no objection to this war, popular in England as a
Protestant crusade; but it desired to set a price upon its
liberality, and demanded that several retainers of monopolies
should be tried, who had unworthily abused their scandalous
privileges. From Sir Giles Mompesson and Sir Francis Mitchell,
they soon came to the Attorney-General, Sir Henry Yelverton, and
from him to one of the judges of the court of prerogatives, to
the Bishop of Llandaff, convicted of having sold or bought
justice. The vengeance of the Commons aimed even higher still:
the Chancellor Bacon had said that corruption was the vice of the
time. He had been profoundly smitten with it, and was to bear a
signal punishment for his offences. On the 21st of March, 1621,
the commission of Parliament entrusted with the inquiry into
abuses in the matter of justice accused the Lord Chancellor,
viscount of St. Alban's, upon twenty-two personal counts, while
at the same time he was reproached with his connivance at
offences of the same nature among his subordinates.
Bacon had hitherto resolutely denied the deeds with which the
public voice reproached him; but the blow was too bold and the
accusations too plainly specified for him to be able to resist
the evidence any longer. His eloquence, the marvellous resources
of his mind, the brilliancy of his genius, all failed him with
the decline of court favor. He felt himself abandoned by the
king, who had never had any liking for him, the servility of
Bacon not succeeding in veiling his intellectual superiority. The
Duke of Buckingham coveted his offices for some of his own
dependents. The great chancellor was stricken with sickness, he
took to his bed and asked for time to prepare his defence.
{33}
It was not a defence, but a general confession which he caused to
be presented on the 24th of April to the House of Lords. Being
pressed with questions, he avowed one after another all the
shameful actions of which he was accused, palliating them as well
as he was able and asking mercy of his judges. "The poor
gentleman," wrote a contemporary, "elevated formerly above pity,
has now fallen below it; his tongue, which was the glory of his
time for eloquence, is like a forsaken harp hung upon the willow,
while the waters of affliction flow over upon the banks." The
abasement was complete. The Lords had spared this great criminal
the humiliation of appearing at their bar, but a deputation
repaired to his residence in order to cause the authenticity of
the writing and the circumstantial confession to be certified.
"It is my act, my hand, my heart. Oh my Lords, spare a broken
reed!" sobbed the great philosopher, the brilliant genius, the
profound thinker who is still one of the glories of England.
Moral character had been lacking to these intellectual gifts.
Bacon was condemned to lose all his offices and to pay a fine of
forty thousand pounds sterling, which was remitted by the king,
for he was in no condition to discharge it. His imprisonment was
commuted into exile within his estates. It was forbidden him
during his lifetime to approach the court, to sit in Parliament,
or to serve his country in whatever capacity it might be.
No punishment could be more bitter to Bacon. Confined to his
country seat, he revised his former works, his _Essays_, his
_Novum Organum_, or New Philosophy, his two books on the
_Progress of Science_. He caused them to be translated into
Latin; he even wrote a _History of Henry VII.;_ but his
heart was still in court and in public life.
{34}
He only asked to reappear upon that scene from which he had been
so ignominiously expelled, and he harassed the King, Prince
Charles, and the Duke of Buckingham with his petitions. None gave
ear to him, none replied to him; his temper became embittered,
his health became impaired, and this great mind, fallen so low,
was extinguished in 1626, five years after his disgrace. He died
at the age of sixty-five.
The affairs of the Elector-Palatine, who had become King of
Bohemia, were becoming more and more serious. The five thousand
Englishmen sent by King James, ill-paid and poorly commanded, had
rendered little service. The embassies with which he importuned
all the powers interested exerted no influence. The throne of
Bohemia, like the hereditary states of Prince Frederick, had been
taken from him, and, driven from Germany, he had been compelled
to take refuge at the Hague with his wife and children, there to
live upon a pension allowed him by the Dutch; but his
father-in-law, King James, had conceived a project which was, he
thought, calculated at least to re-establish his son-in-law in
the Palatinate. He counted in this affair upon the influence of
Spain.
In spite of the national opposition to a Catholic marriage for
the heir to the throne, and notwithstanding the recent petitions
of Parliament to this effect, King James, who had moreover
quarrelled with the House of Commons and had caused several of
its members to be arrested, continued his negotiations with
Philip IV. for the marriage of Prince Charles with the Infanta,
Donna Maria. For nearly twenty years the King of England had, in
common with Spain, dreamed of this alliance, which he at length
regarded as on the point of being realized.
{35}
The scheme had been proposed more than once in the shape of a
union between Prince Henry with the Infanta Anne; the prince had
died and the Infanta had married the King of France. The King of
Spain, Philip III., had at first appeared favorable to the
marriage, but on his death-bed he recommended his son Philip IV.
to make his sister an empress by uniting her to her cousin the
Emperor Ferdinand. King James did not know of the last wish of
the dying king, but he hoped to find the new Spanish sovereign
more accommodating than his father. After endless negotiations
and journeys to and fro, after Catholic pretensions on the part
of Spain, and displays of pecuniary avidity on that of King
James, who threatened to break off everything, an almost complete
understanding had been arrived at in the month of January, 1623:
the Infanta was to preserve the free exercise of her religion;
the English Catholics were to enjoy a practical, if not legal,
toleration; the payments of the dowry of two millions of crowns
were arranged, the dispensation of Rome was expected, and people
spoke of celebrating the marriage by proxy through the ambassador
forty days after the arrival of that important document.
Everything appeared propitious. Lord Digby, Earl of Bristol,
ambassador at Madrid, wrote to the king, "I do not wish to
inspire by uncertain reasons a vain hope in your Majesty, but I
can inform you that the court of Spain openly manifests its
intention of giving you real and prompt satisfaction. If this is
not really their design, they are more false than all the devils
in hell, for they could not make more protestations of sincerity
nor more ardent vows."
{36}
The Spaniards could scarcely be absolved from the reproach of
double-dealing in this affair; for notwithstanding appearances,
the two negotiations in favor of the Elector-Palatine and the
Prince of Wales did not make progress. The towns of the
Palatinate, which still held out for their hereditary prince,
were falling by degrees into the hands of the emperor without
Spain intervening in any manner, and the dispensation of Rome did
not arrive. A strange and chivalrous project suddenly arose in
the mind of Prince Charles, suggested, it is said, by Buckingham,
who had himself conceived it upon a proposal of the Duke
Olivarez, first and all-powerful minister in Spain. Why not go
himself to Madrid to conquer and bring back the Infanta? Why not
put an end to this interminable negotiation by the act of an
amorous, headstrong prince? King James consented to the scheme
after much hesitation and even after tears. He had the matter at
heart; his self-love was at stake. The prince set out secretly,
accompanied by Buckingham.
The undertaking was hazardous, and it appeared even more so than
it was. When it was known in England that the prince had
departed, and with what object, the emotion and uneasiness were
great. Public agitation communicated itself to the king. "Do you
think," he said to his keeper of the seals, Bishop Williams,
"that this knight-errant journey will succeed?" "Sire," said the
bishop, "if my Lord Marquis of Buckingham treat the Duke Olivarez
with great consideration, remembering that he is the favorite in
Spain, and if the Duke Olivarez is very polite and careful
towards my Lord Marquis of Buckingham, remembering that he is the
favorite in England, the prince your son may pay his addresses
happily to the Infanta; but if the duke and the marquis mutually
forget what they both are, it will be very dangerous for the
design of your Majesty. God will that neither one nor the other
will fall into that error."
{37}
The far-seeing good sense of the bishop keeper of the seals had
not deceived him. The whims and vanity of Buckingham encountering
the Spanish haughtiness, were to be as a rock to this frail bark.
The undertaking had succeeded well: the prince and the favorite
had traversed Paris and France under an incognito, which was
penetrated on several occasions, and they had arrived safe and
sound at Madrid on the 17th of March, 1623, "more gay than they
had ever been in their lives." This chivalrous freak, the
imprudent straightforwardness of the proceeding for a moment
appeared to seduce the Spaniards. "It only remains for us to
throw the Infanta into his arms," Count Olivarez exclaimed, and
the prince, putting aside all mystery, was sumptuously received
at the court of Spain, admitted to the presence of the Infanta,
and entertained with hopes of a speedy triumph. Appearances were
soon to give way to reality. The months elapsed, the Prince of
Wales and Buckingham were still at Madrid. The demands of Pope
Gregory XV. became every day more extensive, and the situation
more treacherous. The three sovereigns reciprocally demanded an
act of respect for religious liberty, which in the main and on
principle neither of them recognized nor intended to grant. The
King of England wished his son to marry a Catholic princess,
while remaining exclusively Protestant himself, his son, and his
people. The King of Spain desired that his daughter and all her
personal servants should remain openly Catholics, while living in
a Protestant family and among a Protestant people, while he
himself absolutely excluded all Protestants from his realm.
{38}
The Pope claimed for the Catholics of England full liberty of
conscience, while peremptorily refusing the same privilege to the
Protestants throughout his dominions, and called upon the King of
England to return, together with his people, to the yoke of the
only true and sovereign Church.
So many conflicting and obstinate pretensions could not be
reconciled. King James yielded as much as he could; he signed the
articles of toleration with regard to the Catholics which were
demanded of him, publicly so far as public opinion in England
grudgingly permitted; secretly in respect of that which concerned
the influence to be exerted upon Parliament on the subject of
penal laws. He even sent (to his son and Buckingham) a blank
signature, which approved in advance all that they might concede.
Matters proceeded from bad to worse; the first surprise at the
proceeding of the Prince of Wales had subsided. There was no
longer any hope of seeing Charles become a Catholic. "I have come
to Spain to seek a wife and not a religion," he said frankly. The
views of the English and Spanish favorites had clashed upon
several occasions. Buckingham, irritated at not having succeeded
immediately in an undertaking which his foolish vanity had
suggested, altered his mind, and no longer urged the completion
of the project. Nothing had been broken off, but everything
remained in suspense, and King James as well as England had for
more than six months been demanding the return of the absent
Prince of Wales. "I care neither for the marriage nor for aught
else, provided I fold you once more in my arms," wrote the king
to his son and the favorite.
{39}
"God grant it! God grant it! God grant it! Amen! amen! amen!"
There was a tender separation in appearance, at least, between
the royal persons. The two favorites were more bitter. "I remain
for ever," said Buckingham to Olivarez, "the servant of the King
of Spain, the queen, the Infanta, and I will render to them all
the good offices in my power. As to you, you have so often
thwarted and disobliged me that I make you no declaration of
friendship." "I accept your words," dryly replied the Count Duke.
"If the prince had come here alone he would not have gone away
alone," it was said in Madrid. He embarked at Santander, on the
28th of September, and landed, on the 5th of October, at
Portsmouth, amidst the acclamations and transports of joy of all
England. This time, Buckingham was of the same opinion as the
people of England, and he henceforth exerted all his influence
toward preventing this marriage for which he had toiled so long,
and which Spain at length appeared to seriously desire. In the
month of January, 1624, the Earl of Bristol was recalled from
Spain, where he had loyally served the king his master, and made
a mortal enemy in the Duke of Buckingham. The sumptuous
preparations for the nuptials were suspended. The Infanta
renounced the title of Princess of Wales, which she already bore,
and war with Spain became imminent. King James, who detested war,
and who had striven for so many years for a union with Spain, was
greatly dejected. "War," he said, "will not restore the
Palatinate to my son-in-law." The Protestant passion of England
and the ill-humor of Buckingham, fomented by the tardiness and
the demands of the Pope and Spain, had triumphed.
{40}
Parliament, convoked with regret in 1624, immediately offered
substantial supplies, and the rigorous laws against the
Catholics, suspended for a moment, were applied with more
severity than ever. Alliances began to be formed against the
House of Austria in Germany and in Spain. France, Savoy, Denmark,
Sweden, united with England and Holland, which latter country
having already resumed the war with its perpetual enemies, it was
a question of nothing less than completely delivering the soil of
the Low Countries from the presence of the Spaniards and retaking
the Palatinate. The English troops, placed under the orders of
Prince Maurice of Nassau, were defeated. The prince died at the
Hague. The Count of Mansfeldt, then the great adventurer in war,
came to seek in England the reinforcements which had been
promised him. The soldiers were inexperienced, the quarters
unhealthy; before arriving at the frontiers of the Palatinate
half the troops were unfit for service. The Elector-Palatine was
not yet upon the point of recovering his states.
While England was thus raising the standard of the Protestant
war, King James was negotiating another Catholic marriage. He had
long kept the court of Spain in suspense, pretending successively
to seek for his two sons the hand of a French princess. When the
affair decisively miscarried at Madrid, he turned again towards
Paris. Cardinal Richelieu was more resolute and his designs were
grander than those of Olivarez. "The marriage of the Princess
Henrietta-Maria with the King of England, and the league of the
Protestant states under the patronage of the King of France were
necessary to the greatness of France and to his own power."
{41}
He had formed a league against the House of Austria, and
consolidated it by promising the sister of Louis XIII. to the
Prince of Wales. A secret act, securing to the English Catholics
not only toleration, but more liberty and immunity, was signed on
the 12th of December, 1624, by King James and the Prince of
Wales. The preparations were already begun for receiving the
French princess in London, when King James fell ill and died on
the 6th of April, 1625, at the age of fifty-eight. He had been
twenty-two years king of England. His foolish pretensions to
absolute power, his religious tyranny, his bad and weak policy
had prepared the storm which was to burst upon the head of his
son.
{42}