<72>At the time when James thought fit to lay his Spanish project before commissioners selected from the Privy Council, that body itself March.The Privy Council.was hardly in a position to exercise much influence over the course of affairs. It is true that the new members who had lately taken their seats at the Board were such as were likely to add no small weight to its authority. But its composition was so heterogeneous, and those who sat at it had received promotion for such opposite reasons, that it is strange that their consultations did not terminate in open strife. Abbot was there because he hated Rome, and Andrewes because he detested Geneva. Edmondes had gained his seat by his services in maintaining the French alliance, and Digby by his energetic efforts in favour of Spain. One secretary, Sir Ralph Winwood, never ceased to call for war with the Spanish monarchy. The other secretary, Sir Thomas Lake, thought that such a war was to be avoided by all possible means, and was himself in receipt of a Spanish pension. Arundel, the heir of the eldest branch of the Howards, brought with him the feelings and the prejudices of the old nobility, whilst Bacon was longing to transform the realm after the fashion which his own genius had suggested to him.
A council thus composed was admirably adapted to serve as a consultative body, and James might have learned far more Its treatment by the King.from its deliberations than he could possibly have gained from a Board at which there was greater unity of sentiment. But James unfortunately did not really <73>wish to learn anything that these men might be able to teach him. It would have been far better if he had been either a little more in earnest, or a little less in earnest, about public affairs. A king who, like Louis XIV., could have applied himself to the laborious task of overlooking the daily working of the machine of government might have obtained from such a council the materials for the exercise of an independent judgment. A king who, like Louis XIII., cared for nothing but dogs and falcons, might have found another Richelieu who would relieve him from the task which was too heavy for his own shoulders. But James thought enough about politics to make him jealous of interference, and not enough to make them the business of his life. The Council was accordingly allowed to occupy itself with matters of detail, to examine into accounts, and to report on schemes for the improvement of the revenue. Questions of higher importance were either neglected altogether, or were reserved for the King’s special consideration, to be chatted over with his favourites in some idle hour, after a hard day’s hunting at Theobalds or Royston.
Nor was it only in the administration of political affairs that the looseness of James’s hand was felt. That Official corruption.official corruption was alarmingly prevalent at Whitehall was a secret to no one.
The main causes of the evil admit of an easy explanation. With merely a nominal salary, the great officers of the Crown were left to depend, for the remuneration due to their services, upon the payments which, under various names, were made by those who needed their assistance. In some cases these payments were limited by an authorised scale of fees. In other cases they were restrained by custom within the bounds of moderation. But there would always be instances occurring to which no rules could apply. Men who wanted to drive a bargain with the Government soon discovered that official doors could only be opened with a golden key, and the more questionable the character of the petition was, the larger was the bribe which the petitioner was willing to administer. Even if there had been a recognised code of official morality in <74>existence, it would have been almost impossible to draw the line between money which might honestly be accepted and money which ought at all hazards to be refused. In truth every man was left to draw the line for himself. What the temptations were to which an official was exposed may be gathered from the reply which was said to have been made by a statesman,[109] who had himself held the office of Lord Treasurer, to a friend who asked him what the profits of the place might be. “Some thousand pounds,” he said, “to him who, after his death, would go to heaven: twice as much to him who would go to purgatory, and no one knows how much to him who would adventure to a worse place.”[110]
In addition to the officials whose pay was merely nominal, the King was surrounded by a crowd of hungry courtiers whose The courtiers.pay was nothing at all. To them flocked day by day all who had any favour to beg, and who hoped that a little money judiciously expended would smooth the way before them. Some of the applicants, no doubt, were honest men who merely wanted to get a chance of doing honest work. But there were not a few whose only object was to enrich themselves in some discreditable way, and who were ready to share the booty with those who would lend them a helping hand in their roguery.
That it was his duty to make war upon this evil system was a thought which never seems seriously to have entered into James’s head. Even James’s supineness.if he had felt the desire, he lacked the firmness and energy by which alone great reforms are effected. Any glaring instance of peculation, especially when his own interests were touched, must of course be punished. But in general he seems to have thought that, if his ministers could secure payment for their services without dipping their hands into the Exchequer, it was so much the better for him. If he felt that the world was out of joint, he never went so far as to imagine that it was his business to take much trouble to set it right. “If I were to imitate the <75>conduct of your republic,” he once said to a Venetian ambassador, “and to begin to punish those who take bribes, I should soon not have a single subject left.”[111]
It was partly by his consciousness of his easy nature that James had been led to impose complete trust in two successive favourites. Position of Villiers.First, in Somerset, and, after Somerset’s disgrace, in Villiers, he imagined that he had found the man of whom he was in search. He had been attracted by the strong animal spirits and the handsome features which were common to both; and habit soon forged firmly the links of the chain which bound him to the inseparable companions of his leisure hours. Nor was it enough for him to pay his own worship to the idol which he had set up. He whom the King delighted to honour must be honoured by his subjects. Remembering but too well the fatal facility with which he had squandered his money and his lands upon unworthy claimants, and thinking, perhaps, that his favourite might be able to give a refusal which he was himself incapable of uttering, he determined to adopt it as a maxim that no honour should be granted, and no office bestowed, unless the good word of Buckingham were first obtained.
It was a dangerous experiment to place the patronage of the Crown in the hands of a stripling. It would have been strange if Patronage in his hands.so sudden an elevation had not turned his head. Placed, in the heyday of youth, in a situation in which he was courted by everyone who sought advancement, it required a stronger mind than his to resist the fascinations of his position. It was so pleasant to feel that all the learning and ability of England were at his disposal, and that a smile or a frown from him could raise or depress the spirits of men who had risen, by a lifelong toil, to the highest offices of the state! Nor was it only with respectful words or ready service that those who needed his assistance were prepared to pay for his favours. Here and there, perhaps, might be found one who, like Digby or Bacon, refused to bribe his way to office; but the great majority of aspirants thought it no disgrace to offer large <76>sums to anyone who would help them to the object of their desires; and, at least within the limits of the Court, no surprise was shown if the courtier accepted without compunction what was offered without sense of shame.
And yet it was not avarice which was the besetting sin of Buckingham. If ever, before the sudden close of his career, he had His vanity.leisure to look back upon the events of his past life, he might well have exclaimed, in the words which were long afterwards employed by a far greater man, that he was astonished at his own moderation. With a princely income of 15,000l. a year,[112] he could well afford, whenever any inclination was to be gratified, to thrust away, with a lordly sweep of the hand, the proffered bribe. It was vanity which was gnawing like a canker at his heart. The light-hearted, giddy youth who had won the approbation of Pembroke and Abbot by his courtesy and kindliness, quickly learned to cherish, with jealous fondness, the reputation of being the one man in England whose words were never whispered in the King’s ear in vain. In his turn he was surrounded by a crowd of hangers-on, and he soon made it a point of honour to frustrate the suit of every man who refused to swell the train. His sudden rise boded ill for the realisation of the hopes which had been entertained by the leading members of the Council after the fall of Somerset. It was evident that it was not in their hands that James intended to place the reins of government.
It was not long before the occurrence of a vacancy in one of the highest offices in the realm afforded an opportunity of impressing upon Brackley’s ill-health.all who were looking for advancement, that there was now but one road to the royal favour. Worn out by age and infirmities, Brackley had long been soliciting permission to withdraw from the fatigues of office. Utterly opposed as the Chancellor had been to the <77>foreign policy which had been lately adopted by the King, James was loth to lose the services of one whom he had valued so highly, and who, in the great struggle with Coke, had stood up manfully in defence of the combined rights of the Crown and the Court of Chancery, and he replied by begging him to remain at his post. It was not by compliments that the old man’s health could be restored, and though the King, in answer to renewed applications for release, continued to express hopes for his recovery, he was well aware that he could not expect ever to take his seat in Chancery again.[113] Finding, therefore, that James was still resolved not to accept his resignation, he took the decisive step of refusing to set the Great Seal to the patents which were brought to him for the purpose.[114] It was impossible to allow the business of the office to remain at a standstill. On March 3, 1617.March.His resignation and death.James accordingly came to his bedside, and, accepting the seal, with tears in his eyes, from his old servant, directed that it should be immediately used to give currency to one of the patents in question, leaving the other to be sealed on the following day. It was not till it was needed for this purpose that the symbol of office was finally removed from the sick man’s chamber.[115]
<78>The old lawyer did not long enjoy that relief from official cares for which he had pleaded so earnestly. On March 15 he was at the last extremity. James had the bad taste to send Bacon to the dying man, to console him with a promise of an earldom. At one time he would have welcomed such a mark of his Sovereign’s favour, were it only for the sake of the heir who had just been born to his only surviving son. But it was now too late. He thanked the King for his goodness; but at such a moment, he said, questions of earthly rank were vanities with which he had no concern. Half an hour after Bacon had left him, he breathed his last. James did not, indeed, forget the offer which he had made. He conferred upon the son of the late Chancellor the earldom of Bridgewater; but, if rumour spoke correctly, either he or the favourite extorted no less than 20,000l. from the new earl as the price of the honour.[116]
It can hardly be said that Buckingham had much to do with the choice of the Chancellor’s successor. It was, Bacon Lord Keeper.indeed, reported that Sir John Bennett, who had risen into notoriety at the time of the Essex divorce, had offered 30,000l. for the vacant office. Others spoke of Hobart, or even of Bishop Montague, the brother of the Chief Justice, who had lately succeeded Bilson in the see of Winchester, and had brought himself into notice by editing a collection of the King’s pamphlets and speeches. A more improbable report pointed to Coke as the fortunate man.[117] But it is not likely that James hesitated for a moment. On March 7, four days after the Chancellor’s resignation, he placed the great seal in the hands of Bacon, who was to hold it with the inferior title of Lord Keeper. The assiduous court which Bacon had paid to Buckingham preserved him from all <79>opposition on the part of the favourite; but his services as Attorney-General had been too marked to make any such opposition likely. For some time past the late Chancellor had lost no opportunity of speaking a good word for Bacon, and had expressly declared his wish that he might be his successor. The same exalted idea of the prerogative, the same desire to limit the jurisdiction of the Courts of Common Law, animated them both.
By Bacon’s promotion the Attorney-Generalship became vacant, and the King made up his mind to give the appointment to Yelverton, Yelverton to be Attorney-General.who had now been Solicitor-General for nearly four years. When he delivered the great seal to Bacon, he turned to the Lords who were present and said, jestingly, that he should look upon any one who spoke against Yelverton as at least half a traitor. The fortunate lawyer immediately received the congratulations of his friends upon his promotion, and was told to get the warrant ready for the royal signature.
Yelverton, however, was not long in discovering that there was an obstacle in his path. The warrant was drawn up, but Buckingham’s opposition.for many days it remained unsigned. At last he discovered that Buckingham was his enemy. He had studiously avoided asking the favourite for his patronage, and he had owed his former advancement to the good word of Somerset and the Howards. Nor was this all. Sir James Ley had offered Buckingham 10,000l. for the place; and Ley was not a man whom it was any discredit to support. He had served as Chief Justice in Ireland, and, though he had been no favourite with the Dublin Catholics, he had been honoured with the thorough support of Chichester. Since his retirement from the Irish Bench he had returned to England, and had held the lucrative appointment of Attorney of the Court of Wards. It was notorious, however, that it was not his professional merits which had gained for him Buckingham’s support, and the leading members of the Council were indignant at this barefaced attempt to set aside the professed intentions of the King. Sharp words were exchanged between Buckingham and Lennox. Yelverton was, however, advised by his friends <80>to submit to necessity, and either to make interest with the favourite, or to plead his cause with James in person. Winwood offered to take him before the King with the warrant in his hand. Yelverton, who during his whole life oscillated between rugged independence and the humblest compliance, was just now in an unbending mood. The King, he replied, had wisdom enough to choose his own servants, and he would leave the matter in his Majesty’s hands. But Buckingham was either beginning to be ashamed of his conduct, or was startled by the opposition which it had provoked. He now sent for Yelverton, and assured him that he wished him well, but that he feared that if so important an office were disposed of without his influence being seen in the matter, men would fancy that he had lost credit with the King. Yelverton replied sturdily, that it was not the custom for the King’s favourites to meddle with legal appointments. No doubt Buckingham would wish to be certain that the post was not occupied by an enemy, but he hoped that he had never given him reason to complain of any discourtesy. With this Buckingham professed himself satisfied, and Yelverton’s appointment.taking the warrant to the King returned with it duly signed. That a man in Buckingham’s position should have behaved in such a manner is intelligible enough. But what is to be thought of the sovereign who gave his countenance to such proceedings?
A few days after this scene had taken place, Yelverton waited on the King, and told him that, though he had never promised anyone a farthing for the office, yet, as an acknowledgment of his duty, he had brought with him 4,000l., which he begged his Majesty to accept. James, who had no expectation of such a windfall, jumped up, caught his Attorney-General in his arms, and, after thanking him profusely for his liberality, told him that the gift would be extremely useful, as it would enable him to buy some dishes of which he was much in need.[118]
It was the general opinion of the profession that the <81>Solicitor-Generalship, thus vacated, ought to have been conferred upon Coventry Solicitor-General.Sir John Walter, the Prince’s Attorney.[119] But Walter’s unbending temper was a bar to his promotion. The man selected was Coventry, who had lately been appointed Recorder of the City of London. When he had been chosen to that office, James was inclined to look askance upon him, as one who had lived on familiar terms with Coke. Coventry, however, had little difficulty in persuading the King that he had no wish to join in an attack upon the prerogative. He was not a man of brilliant parts, but to the end of his life he maintained the reputation of being a good lawyer. In political questions he was said to be possessed of a sound judgment, but though he lived to hold offices of the highest political importance in times of great excitement, he never ventured to oppose his opinion, whatever it may have been, to the doctrines which happened for the moment to be in favour at Court.
These were not the only legal preferments which at this time came into the King’s hands. A few weeks later, two puisne judgeships were May.Other legal promotions.given to Sir John Denham and Serjeant Hutton. Both the new judges were distinguished by their legal attainments, and with respect to the independence of their character it is sufficient to say that they both lived to deliver opinions on the great case of ship money, and that neither of them could be induced to give a judgment in accordance with the wishes of the King.
It is impossible to deny that the character of these appointments was eminently satisfactory. Bacon Character of these appointments.may well have been excused for thinking that the day was at last come when men of sagacity would be selected for service in the state. But the episode of Buckingham’s <82>opposition to Yelverton was of evil augury. It was just possible that the new favourite might have received a lesson, but, unfortunately, it was not very probable.
Immediately after these appointments had been made James set out for Scotland, where he purposed to remain during the summer months. James sets out for Scotland.He had found great difficulty in bringing together sufficient money to defray the expenses of the journey, and had consequently for some weeks been in no good humour. He had sent to prison one unlucky man who had offered to bet that not one of three events: the Prince’s marriage with the Infanta, Raleigh’s expedition to Guiana, and the King’s journey to Scotland, would ever come to pass.[120] At last, however, the money was obtained, and James was able to set out. Bacon was of necessity left behind. May 7.Bacon takes his seat in Chancery.He could not be spared from the duties of his new office. On May 7 he rode in state to take his seat in Chancery; and though large numbers had left London, in consequence of a proclamation directing all country gentlemen, not detained by special business, to return to their homes,[121] not less than a hundred persons of distinction presented themselves to ride in his train. As soon as he had taken his seat, the new Lord Keeper addressed his audience in a speech[122] which showed that he had made up his mind that the dispute which he had inherited from his predecessor should not degenerate into a personal altercation between the judges of the rival courts. It is true that he referred slightingly to the ‘great rattle and noise of a præmunire,’ with which the claim put forward by the late Lord Chancellor had been met. But he clearly stated that he should reserve the exercise of his powers for cases of proved injustice, and that he would on no account employ them to satisfy the susceptibilities of the Chancery lawyers, or the hopes of suitors who applied to a second court only because the weakness of their case made them apprehensive of failure in the <83>first. It was probably owing to Bacon’s conciliatory language, as much as to any other cause, that any further breach was avoided; especially as he took care to follow up his public declaration not only by carrying out its principles upon the Bench, but by maintaining a friendly intercourse with the judges, an intercourse which was commenced at a magnificent banquet to which he invited them on that very day.[123]
To Bacon everything now was looking bright. If in his heart of hearts he could hardly believe that James was the best and wisest of kings, His prospects.and Buckingham the most unassuming and unselfish of favourites, he was at least able to look at what virtues they possessed through the rosy medium of his own brilliant imagination. His view of the temper of the people was no less favourable. The storms which had agitated the last two Parliaments were, as he thought, forgotten, if indeed they were not to be altogether ascribed to the factiousness of a few hotheaded lawyers. If any dissatisfaction still remained, it would soon be removed by attention to the equal administration of justice. It would then be possible to summon Parliament again, and the Commons would at last be eager to pour out their treasures at the feet of the King.
For some little time after the departure of the Court for Scotland, Bacon continued to correspond with the favourite upon Bacon’s correspondence with Buckingham.the most friendly terms. He begged him to lay before the King a copy of his speech in Chancery. The reply told him how completely it had received his Majesty’s approbation.[124] A few weeks later, the Lord Keeper was able to announce that, in the short space of a single month, his indefatigable industry had cleared off the June.enormous arrears of his court, and that not a single case had been left unheard.[125] Before another month had passed, a cloud had come over the scene, and the barque of his fortunes was once more drifting out to sea from the harbour which had been so laboriously gained.
<84>The danger arose from an unexpected quarter. Bacon no doubt fancied that he should never again have to fear the opposition of November, 1616.Coke’s behaviour after his disgrace.the late Chief Justice. Coke himself had probably been of the same opinion. The final blow had fallen upon him like a clap of thunder. When the news of his dismissal was brought to him, the rugged old man burst into tears; but he speedily recovered himself, and bore himself as manfully as ever. When Montague sent to beg him to sell the official collar for which he had now no further use, he refused to part with it, saying that he would keep it for his posterity, in order that they might know that they had had a Chief Justice amongst their ancestors.[126] He had much to put up with. The inquiry into the correctness of his reports was still proceeding; and 1617.though the King saw him occasionally, and treated him with consideration, there was one at least of the charges against him which it was necessary to bring immediately to an issue. It was asserted that he had improperly admitted to bail a pirate, who had committed depredations upon French subjects, and, as the offender had taken advantage of the opportunity to make his escape, the French ambassador was pressing earnestly for compensation. After some haggling Coke agreed to pay 3,500l., in satisfaction for the injury.[127]
Meanwhile the Council had been called upon to settle a still more difficult question. Coke’s first wife had died in 1598, His relations with his wife.leaving him with a family of seven sons and two daughters. Before the end of the year he was married again to the grandchild of Lord Treasurer Burghley, the young and handsome widow of Sir William Hatton. From the first the union was an unhappy one. There was nothing in common between the spirited young beauty and the elderly lawyer, whose admiration was reserved for his law books and his money-bags. The very first months of their married life were spent in a struggle in which Coke attempted, not entirely <85>without success, to get his wife’s property into his hands, and to exclude her from all share in the estates of her former husband. The lady, on her part, testified her resentment, by refusing to bear the name of Coke, and by appealing to her powerful relatives for assistance. By their help the quarrel was hushed up for a time, and for some years no public scandal resulted from the strife.
At first it seemed as if the disgrace of the Chief Justice was likely to have a favourable effect upon his domestic relations. The Hatton estate.When his wife learned that danger was approaching, she drew closer to him than she had done for many years.[128] But it was not long before the breach was as wide as ever. One of the charges against Coke related to certain lands which had belonged to the late Lord Chancellor Hatton, who had died, owing to the Crown a debt of 42,000l. Elizabeth, who had to provide for the expenses of government out of a miserably inadequate revenue, knew better than to lose sight of such a sum. She therefore took possession of his estates, and leased them out till the debt was paid from the accruing rents. This lease, which had been at one time in Lady Hatton’s hands, was, by some arrangement, the purpose of which we are unable to trace, transferred, in 1608, to four persons, of whom Coke was one.[129] As the annual profits of the land were in excess of the rent payable to the Crown, Coke, in his anxiety to retain the lease as long as possible, contrived to induce the heir to enter into a bond not to redeem his property by paying down the remainder of the debt. In 1616, however, the outstanding portion of the debt was actually paid on his behalf, and Coke not only lost his hold on the estate,[130] but was threatened by the Crown lawyers with penalties for his attempt to fill his own pockets at the expense of the Exchequer.[131]
It seems that, in some way or another, Lady Hatton’s <86>interests were affected, and that her signature was required to the release which Coke’s quarrel with his wife.her husband was called upon to execute. Her temper was not proof against the discovery that the estate must be surrendered. She accused her husband of doing her grievous wrong, and made up her mind to live with him no longer. One day she slipped away from the house in which he was, carrying with her all the plate and valuables upon which she could lay her hands. The quarrel became the standing jest of all the newsmongers in London. But their amusement was increased when they heard that Lady Hatton had appealed to the Privy Council against her husband’s tyranny. He had threatened, she said, to indemnify himself out of the estates which had been bequeathed to her by her first husband. Coke, on his part, stoutly denied that he had said anything of the kind. For some weeks the Privy Councillors were racking their brains over the dispute. At last, some sort of superficial reconciliation was effected.[132] One of the questions at issue was the ownership of Hatton House. The Council decided that it belonged to the lady, but added a sensible recommendation, that she should allow her husband to live in it as well as herself.[133]
The reconciliation did not last long. Not many hours after the award of the Council was pronounced, the quarrel broke <87>out again on a fresh subject of difference. By her marriage with Coke, Lady Hatton was 1616.Sir John Villiers and Frances Coke.the mother of two daughters. In the autumn of 1616, the younger of the two, Frances Coke, was growing up into early womanhood, and was attracting all eyes by the beauty which she inherited from her mother. Amongst those who were fascinated by her budding loveliness was Sir John Villiers, the elder brother of the favourite. His attachment was certainly not cooled by the knowledge that after the death of her parents she would be possessed of an estate valued at 1,300l. a-year,[134] and that it was unlikely that, even in their lifetime, they would send their daughter forth as a penniless bride.
Sir John was anxious to make this rich prize his own with as little delay as possible. But he had none of his brother’s brilliancy. He was weak in mind and in body, and, if he had any sense at all, it was shown in his perception that he was far more likely to succeed through Court influence than by any attempt which he might personally make to win the affections of the lady. He accordingly placed his cause in his mother’s hands.
Buckingham’s mother was now married a third time to Sir Thomas Compton, a man whom she hated and despised, and to whom, Lady Compton and her children.as all the world knew, she had only been attracted by the prospect of sharing his wealth. Her whole heart was now set upon the congenial occupation of making provision for her family. She had succeeded so well in her speculation on the good looks of her second son, that she had no fear of failure in her present enterprise. It is true that there were few ladies who were likely to find any personal attractions in Sir John; but the prudent mother never doubted that by a judicious use of George’s influence such a difficulty might easily be overcome.
With Lady Hatton, at least, even this potent argument was Her intervention in her son’s courtship.unlikely to produce conviction. The two scheming women were too much alike to agree, and a bitter quarrel had recently broken out between them.[135] <88>But Lady Compton thought that something might be done with Coke. He had just been suspended from his office, and in order to avert the deprivation which was hanging over his head at the time when the marriage was first mooted, he might be willing to sacrifice not only his daughter, but his money. In spite of the temptation, Coke refused to give way. He Coke refuses to accept her terms,did not indeed object to dispose of his daughter’s hand to suit his own interests; but Lady Compton wanted more than this. He was told that he must give a portion of 10,000l. with the bride, if the King was to forgive his misdeeds. He refused to give more than two-thirds of that sum, and Lady Compton would not abate a penny of her terms.[136] Coke magniloquently told her that he would not buy the King’s favour too dear. The negotiation was broken off, and he was called upon to resign his seat on the Bench.
As the months slipped away, Coke felt the loss of his occupation more and more. His love of money was great. His rugged 1617.but afterwards relents.temper and impatience of opposition were greater still. But greatest of all was his professional pride. If Parliament had been sitting, he would doubtless have thrown himself into opposition as vigorously as he did at a later period of his life. But there was no such chance before him. He had to sit quietly at home, whilst others administered those laws which he had grown to consider as his peculiar property. It was a hard trial, and he soon began to repent of his obstinacy, and to bethink himself whether it would not be worth while to sacrifice — not his daughter, for on that point he had never felt any difficulty, but the few thousand pounds which appeared to have caused the disaster. At last he made up his mind, and told Lady Compton that he was ready to comply with her wishes.
It was not long before the compact reached the ears of Bacon. Bacon’s objections.For the hardships of poor Frances Coke, indeed, he cared as little as his rival. It was not an age in which such sorrows ever found much sympathy. <89>He looked, or fancied that he looked, upon the whole matter simply as a political question. That his own personal and professional rivalry with Coke, reaching as it did through so long a series of years, had no influence on his judgment, it would be hazardous in the extreme to affirm; but he had, at least, persuaded himself that no memory of Coke’s scornful insolence rankled in his bosom. He believed that he merely saw a man whose connexion with the Government was most injurious to the King’s service, attempting to force his way back into office by taking advantage of Buckingham’s affection for his brothers. Unable to speak either with the favourite or the King, to warn them of the consequence of their error, his vexation vented itself upon Winwood, who had now made himself a thorough partisan of Coke, and whose wild recklessness of consequences in the affair of Raleigh’s voyage was not likely to commend itself favourably to Bacon.
Even by his best friends Winwood’s manner was allowed to be anything but conciliatory, and he was not likely to take much trouble to avoid a quarrel. His quarrel with Winwood.In a few days the Lord Keeper and the Secretary had come to an open rupture. When men meet in such a temper, a little matter will kindle the hidden spark into a flame. Winwood, coming into a room where Bacon was, found a dog upon his chair. He was not in the best of tempers, and he struck the animal. “Every gentleman,” was Bacon’s remark, “loves a dog.” A few days afterwards Bacon fancied that Winwood pressed too close to him at the Council-table, and bade him keep his distance.[137] When, some months later, the Queen, who had taken Winwood’s part in the quarrel, asked Bacon what was the cause of the difference between them, he turned the matter off by answering, “Madam, I can say no more than that he is proud, and I am proud.”[138]
Coke fancied himself sure of his game. He acquainted the King with his intentions,[139] and James, who was glad enough to <90>see a provision made for Buckingham’s brother, which would Lady Hatton’s opposition to the marriage.save him from dipping his hand into his own pocket, gave his hearty approbation to the scheme. Lady Hatton’s consent, however, was still to be gained, and her husband knew that if she were to prove obstinate, he would have to find the whole of his daughter’s portion instead of quartering Sir John and his bride upon the Hatton estates. Coke soon found that he had no easy task before him. Persuasion and menaces were alike in vain. Winwood, who came to his friend’s assistance, could effect nothing. He left the unmanageable lady with the threat that her daughter should be married in spite of all that she could say or do.
Pressed on every side, Lady Hatton bethought herself of a device which would at least give her a little respite.[140] She drew up She sends her daughter to Oatlands, and afterwards to Hampton Court.a form of contract, by which her daughter was to engage herself to become the wife of the Earl of Oxford, who, being at the time in Italy, could not come forward to denounce the imposture. This paper the poor child consented to sign.[141] Keeping this document for use at the last extremity, Lady Hatton left her husband’s house, and carrying her daughter with her to Oatlands, committed her to the charge of her cousin, Sir Edmund Withipole.[142]
As soon as Bacon heard what had taken place, he sat down to write to Buckingham. He was not aware how completely the favourite Bacon remonstrates with Buckingham.had set his heart upon the match, and he thought that there was yet time to warn him against the personal and political disadvantages of an alliance with Coke. It would be unwise, he told him, for his brother to marry into a family in which such domestic discord prevailed, and he might find that, by so close a connexion with the disgraced Chief Justice, he had even alienated his best friends from himself. The revival of the hopes of Coke and his allies would be injurious to the King’s service. <91>The best thing which Buckingham could do would be to write at once to his mother prohibiting her from proceeding in the matter, at least till his own return from Scotland.[143]
It is evident that Bacon’s letter did not spring from any sympathy with Frances Coke. He treated the question of her marriage as ninety-nine men out of every hundred would have treated it in those days, that is to say, as a mere question of expediency, to be argued about in much the same way as he would argue about the purchase of an estate or the imposition of a tax.[144] The position which he had taken was at least one from which he could withdraw with dignity. If Buckingham still wished the marriage to proceed, and if the King still wished to restore Coke to his seat in the Council, he had done his duty in remonstrating, and would be quite ready to carry out any orders which might be sent to him.
The letter had scarcely been despatched when Lady Compton made her appearance with a request for a warrant from the Council Coke’s assault upon Oatlands.to enable Coke to regain possession of his daughter. As Bacon had reason to believe that this would only be the first step to a forced marriage, he declined to give her any assistance, and, if the lady is to be trusted, his refusal was couched in no very <92>courteous terms. Lady Compton then appealed to Winwood, and easily obtained from him the authority which she desired. Thus fortified, she hurried down to Oatlands, accompanied by Coke. Around her carriage was gathered an armed retinue, consisting of Coke’s servants, at the head of which might be distinguished his son Clement — Fighting Clem Coke, as he was called by his companions — who had warmly taken up the quarrel against his step-mother. On their arrival at Oatlands they found the door shut against them. Coke demanded entrance, in virtue of the warrant which he had in his possession. Being refused admittance, the late Chief Justice of England snatched up a log which was lying on the ground, battered in the door, and forcing his way into the house, dragged the trembling girl to the coach in which Lady Compton was waiting to receive her.
The next morning the Council had met for its usual Sunday consultation, when Lady Hatton rushed in to make complaint, Lady Hatton appeals to the Council.in an excited tone, of the outrage which had been committed. The Council listened to her tale, and sent orders to Coke to appear before them on the following Tuesday to give account of his proceedings.
An hour or two later Lady Hatton reappeared. Her daughter, she said, was suffering from the violence to which she had been subjected, and it would be necessary to take immediate steps for her safety. A letter was accordingly addressed to Coke, directing him to surrender the young lady to the custody of the Clerk of the Council.
On Tuesday Coke presented himself before the Board. He began by accusing Lady Hatton of a plot to carry off his daughter to France, and Coke before the Council.added an irrelevant charge against one of her servants who had been overheard slandering Sir John Villiers. He was told that it was necessary to prove accusations as well as to bring them, and that, even if he could succeed in that, he would still have to defend himself against a charge of riot. That defence was not an easy one to make. He had made no use of the warrant which he had obtained, in all probability because it directed him to apply for its <93>execution to the ordinary officers of the law. Having preferred to do himself justice with his own hands, he must now prove the legality of his proceedings in some other way. He accordingly declared boldly that the law would carry him out in all that he had done, whether he had been provided with a warrant or not. To the astounding doctrine that the rights of a father over his child carried with them the right of breaking into any house in which she might happen to be, the Attorney-General, naturally enough, demurred, and, in order to settle the question, it was agreed that proceedings should be commenced against Coke in the Star Chamber. In the meanwhile Yelverton busied himself in the more pleasing task of putting an end to the family quarrel. He succeeded in effecting a show of reconciliation, and Frances Coke was allowed to return to her parents, to find what comfort she could in such a house. There was now no longer any occasion for haste, and the Star Chamber proceedings were postponed till the King’s pleasure could be ascertained.[145]
As soon as the commotion had quieted down, Bacon wrote once more to Buckingham and the King. To the favourite he Bacon’s letters.expressed his regret that he had received no answer to his former letter, and, assuring him that he had not changed his opinion, begged him to listen to the advice which he had given. To the King he was more explicit. He knew now that James had taken up the marriage warmly. He therefore felt that he was placed on his defence. He reiterated the arguments which he had used to establish the inexpediency of showing favour to Coke. But he acknowledged, as he could not but acknowledge, that this was a question for his Majesty to decide. If the King, after weighing his advice, resolved to proceed in the matter, he would do everything in his power to carry out his wishes. He would even use his influence with Lady Hatton to obtain her consent to the marriage. But for this he must have direct orders from the King. “For if,” he said, “I should be requested in it from my Lord of Buckingham, the answer of a true friend ought to be that I had rather <94>go against his mind than against his good. But your Majesty I must obey.”[146]
All this reasoning fell flat upon James’s ear. His dissatisfaction with Coke’s late proceedings was not sharpened by any feeling of personal rivalry. August.The King’s reply.He had had but one encounter with him, and from that his position had enabled him to come off victorious. We can fancy him arguing that Coke knew better now than to resist the all-powerful prerogative of the Crown. At the Council table he would be out of harm’s way. He might be employed in matters of routine. There was that, too, in Bacon’s letters which was certain to offend both Buckingham and his master. The suggestion that danger might arise to either from the re-admission of Coke to power, implied the possibility of their being unable to defend themselves against the turbulent lawyer. If this had been all, it would have been enough to account for James’s irritation. But, in addition to Bacon’s own letters, complaints were carried northwards by every post against the upstart Lord Keeper, whose head had been turned by prosperity, and who had become reckless of his duty in his desire to satisfy his hatred. Buckingham replied in a few contemptuous lines, which showed how thoroughly he was out of temper. He was now displaying himself in his worst colours, impatient of advice which did not fall in with his momentary caprice. James, too, blind in his affection, could see with no eyes but those of the favoured youth, and he too wrote angrily as if the Lord Keeper had committed some great crime.[147] Upon this Bacon assured Buckingham that he had withdrawn all opposition to the match. To the King he sent a lengthy apology, assuring him that he had acted for the best, and that he was now ready to leave everything in his Majesty’s <95>hands.[148] Some days afterwards he wrote again to Buckingham, telling him that he was ready to give every satisfaction to his mother.[149] If Bacon had hitherto been actuated by any sympathy with Frances Coke, or by any notion that the sacredness of marriage would be profaned by the intrigues of Coke and Buckingham, his present conduct would have been unutterably base. As it was, he did nothing of which a man in his day had any reason to be ashamed. He had done his duty by remonstrating against an act which would involve a political evil. When he learned that the King refused to listen to his remonstrances, he proceeded to carry out his Majesty’s orders. To him it made no difference whether those orders were to procure a wife for Sir John Villiers, or to seal a patent conferring on him a pension out of the Exchequer.
He soon learned, however, that his motives had been grievously misapprehended at Court. Buckingham had contented himself with a dry acknowledgment of the receipt of his first letter. James indulged in a long tirade, to which Bacon could only reply that he reserved his defence till his Majesty’s return.[150]
James had by this time, recrossed the Border, and was making his way southward by slow journeys. On August 28, Coke presented himself before him and was highly pleased with his reception.[151] He had a fresh petition to make. His wife, as a last resource, had lately produced the imaginary contract between her daughter and the Earl of Oxford, and he now appears to have obtained permission to summon her before the Council. At least, it was immediately after his return that she was, at his complaint, committed to custody by the Board.[152]
<96>A few days later, Yelverton went down to the King to give his version of the story. He found that Buckingham had adopted all Coke’s quarrels, and Sept. 3.Yelverton’s report.used his very phrases in declaiming against the Lord Keeper and himself. “My Lord,” wrote Yelverton, from Coventry, to Bacon, “I emboldened myself to assay the temper of my Lord of Buckingham to myself, and found it very fervent, misled by misinformation which yet I find he embraced as truth, and did nobly and plainly tell me he would not secretly bite, but whosoever had had any interest or tasted of the opposition to his brother’s marriage he would as openly oppose them to their faces, and they should discern what favour he had by the power he would use.” Such language was eminently characteristic of Buckingham. All his generous instincts were in it, marred as they were by the overweening self-confidence, and the contempt for the rights of others whenever they clashed with his own, to which two years of James’s unwise and undiscriminating fondness had brought the affable youth, who had won all hearts in the days of Somerset’s greatness. Everywhere, as Yelverton reported, Buckingham was speaking openly of the Lord Keeper as showing the same ingratitude to him as he had formerly shown to Essex and Somerset. Such words were no doubt the words of passion, but they were not spoken without ground. Buckingham’s dissatisfaction not altogether without foundation.Of the warm personal affection which sometimes makes men oblivious of the claims of duty, Bacon was entirely incapable. Setting aside all untruths and misrepresentations which had reached the Court, there remained behind the revelation that Bacon had in the first place learned to love Buckingham because he hoped that his presence at Court would be conducive to the better government of the country, and that he was not willing to subordinate the cause of good government to the personal caprices of the favourite. It would have been well if the too fortunate youth could have understood that Bacon’s friendship was all the better worth having because it did not, like the King’s, lower itself into idolatry.
The advice which Yelverton gave to Bacon was to maintain his ground boldly, and, whilst giving an unvarnished account <97>of all that had passed, to throw the blame upon the headstrong violence of his rival.[153]
It was, perhaps, the best advice which could be given. As it would have been useless to urge on Buckingham the injury which Bacon restored to favour.he was inflicting on the King’s government by his support to Coke, the next best thing was to show him that Bacon had been attempting to act as a friend to himself. This was at least the character which Yelverton had given of the Lord Keeper, and Yelverton’s open language had not been without effect. His story had been very different from that which had been told by Coke. Buckingham had imagined Bacon as bent upon thwarting his wishes, for the sake of inflicting punishment on a political rival. He learnt to regard him as a friend, whose intentions at least were undeniably good. Two days after Yelverton’s report was written, Buckingham wrote to assure him that he would no longer listen to unfavourable rumours in his absence, and to convey a promise from the King that he would keep one ear open to him.[154] After this Bacon could have but little difficulty in making his peace. He completed his success by offering to apologize in writing. Buckingham replied that he was now so well satisfied as to have forgiven everything; adding that, if the King had forgotten the past, it was entirely owing to his own intercession, and that he was sure that no other man in England could have done as much.[155]
Throughout the whole of this wretched affair, Bacon’s conduct had been thoroughly consistent. He had never questioned that Bacon’s part in the affair.it was the King’s business, and not his, to dispose of the patronage of the Crown; yet, it must undoubtedly have cost him something to find his opinion slighted. He did not see, or did not care to see, that the King’s prostration at the feet of Buckingham was more than a temporary evil, <98>or that the disease was one which would require a sharper cure than any that his statesmanship was able to administer. To see this would not only have involved his own retirement from office, and his condemnation to a life of inaction and obscurity, but it would have driven him to an acknowledgment of the insufficiency of those monarchical theories to which he clung so tenaciously. It was too late for him to discover that the work of providing checks upon the royal power would have to be commenced anew. Such discoveries are never made but by young or disappointed men. He went on from day to day, doing his work unremittingly and cheerfully; half-persuading himself that evil which he could not control was no evil at all, till at last his own errors and the errors of others drove his barque upon the rocks, and his course came to its sad and gloomy end amongst those clouds which, almost to this day, have rested heavily on his memory.
On September 28, Coke once more took his place at the Council-table.[156] It was probably on this occasion that the King delivered a speech in defence of his conduct: “I, James,” he said, “am neither a god nor an angel, but a man like any other. Therefore I act like a man, and confess to loving those dear to me more than other men. You may be sure that I love the Earl of Buckingham more than anyone else, and more than you who are here assembled. I wish to speak in my own behalf, and not to have it thought to be a defect, for Jesus Christ did the same, and therefore I cannot be blamed. Christ had his John, and I have my George.”[157] On the following day Coke paid the price of his restoration to favour. His daughter’s marriage was celebrated at Hampton Court. The King gave away the bride.[158] Coke was in high spirits, and almost fancied himself again upon the Bench. His wife deliberately kept away. It was in vain that her daughter had written under dictation, to beg her consent to the marriage, saying, truly enough, that she was a mere child <99>without understanding in the ways of the world. She did not know, she added, what was good for her, and she might perhaps, by yielding, put an end to the sad quarrel between her parents, and regain the King’s favour for her father. As for Sir John, he was well enough. He was a gentleman by birth, and she had no reason to dislike him.[159] Lady Hatton was inexorable. She would not come to the wedding. Yet, if the bridegroom had been a man capable of inspiring respect or love, the marriage might still have been a happy one. As it was, the issue of that day’s work was a tragedy hardly inferior to that which sprung from the marriage of Lady Essex.
If Coke expected great things from the King, it was not long before he was undeceived. He had been restored to his seat at the Council; but October.Coke’s disappointment.he had got nothing more. In addition to the 10,000l. which he had originally promised to his daughter, he had redeemed by a payment of 20,000l. the estates which were settled upon her at his death, and there was nothing more to be extracted from him.[160] The penalty for the wicked compact was first exacted, as was most just, from the man who should have been the last to enter into it. He had sold his daughter for fairy gold, and it had turned into dust in his hands. The day would come when, weary of disappointment and neglect, he would turn round upon the system by which he had hoped to profit, and would call to account the statesman whom he hated, and the favourite whom he despised. If he had shared in Bacon’s success, it is hardly likely that his eyes would have opened so readily to the abuses of the Government.
Now that Coke had no more to give, it was time to lay siege to Lady Hatton. On November 1, all London was November.Lady Hatton in favour.astonished by the news that Buckingham had driven up to the house in which she was a prisoner and, after informing her that she was now at liberty, had carried her with him to her father, the Earl of Exeter. On the 8th, she gave a grand banquet at Hatton House. The <100>King himself, who did not think it beneath him to take part in this discreditable attempt upon the lady’s purse, was present at the feast. When he accepted the invitation, he expressed a hope that she would consent to a reconciliation with her husband. She replied that if Coke came in at one door, she would walk out at the other, and she gave strict injunctions to her servants to allow neither her husband nor any of his sons to enter the house. Her anxiety was unnecessary. Coke remained quietly in his chambers at the Temple, whilst the King and the remainder of his wife’s guests were enjoying the hospitalities of Hatton House. James was merry enough. He knighted four of his hostess’s friends in the course of the evening, and gave her half a dozen kisses as he left the house. For some time Lady Hatton was in high favour at Court. But it soon appeared that she would struggle as hard to avoid parting with her money to her son-in-law, as she had formerly struggled to avoid sharing it with her husband.[161] A year or two later, when all other persuasions had failed, she was offered a peerage, on condition that she would make over her Corfe Castle estate to Sir John Villiers. Upon her rejection of the compact, she was told that, if she still refused, her husband would be created a baron to spite her.[162] Even such a threat as this was made in vain, and the tide of her favour sank as rapidly as it had risen.
Not many weeks after Coke’s readmission to the Council, death removed his chief supporter from the scene of his former activity.[163] October.Death of Winwood.It may be that Winwood saw in the attempt to gain Buckingham’s favour by the intrigue in which he had lately engaged a path by which his own anti-Spanish policy might regain the upper hand. But however that may have been, he was probably fortunate in the termination of his career. It can hardly be doubted that, if he had lived till the following summer, he would have shared in Raleigh’s ruin.
<101>Many were the suitors for the vacant secretaryship. Carleton hoped to succeed his political ally, and he had many friends at Court. But Candidates for the secretaryship.unluckily for his prospects, when he was last in England, Buckingham was only just rising into power, and he had not been sufficiently quicksighted to detect the necessity of bowing down before the new idol.[164]
Lord Houghton, who, as Sir John Holles, had been fined for his audacity in questioning the verdict of the jury in Weston’s trial, had arguments in his favour of a different kind. He had bought forgiveness and a peerage with 10,000l., and he hoped that another 10,000l. would make him secretary.[165]
For some time it appeared as if no appointment would be made. James said that he had never been so well served as when, 1618.Jan. 8.Naunton appointed.after Salisbury’s death, he had been his own secretary. He therefore placed the seals in Buckingham’s hands, and, making over the whole of the foreign correspondence to Lake, attempted to perform the rest of the business himself. But both James and Buckingham soon grew tired of the undertaking, and on January 8, less than three months after Winwood’s death, the seals were given to Sir Robert Naunton, a quiet second-rate man, whose opinions so far corresponded with those of his predecessor, that he might be safely employed to write despatches to Protestant Courts. In return for his promotion he consented to make Buckingham’s youngest brother Christopher heir to lands worth 500l. a year.[166]
Already Buckingham and Bacon had received an almost simultaneous token of the King’s regard. Jan. 1.Buckingham created a marquis.On January 1, the favourite rose a step in the peerage, and exchanged the Earldom for the Marquisate of <102>Buckingham. On the 7th, the Lord Keeper was elevated to the dignity of Chancellor. Jan. 7.Bacon Lord Chancellor.Six months later, he was raised to the peerage, by the title of Lord Verulam, a name which posterity has unanimously agreed to ignore.[167]
During the spring and summer of 1617, the question of the English marriage was bandied about at Madrid between 1617.Course of the negotiation with Spain.the King and the Council of State, and, between the Council of State and the Theologians. At one time Philip was inclined to throw up the whole negotiation. His third and youngest daughter, the Infanta Margaret, a child of seven years, died. She had been promised in marriage to the young Archduke John, the eldest son of Ferdinand of Styria. Ferdinand now offered to take the Infanta Maria in her sister’s place. The offer was a tempting one, for the boy, if he lived, would probably be Emperor.[168] But the hope of the conversion of England was too enticing to be lightly thrown away, and the fear of driving James into the arms of the enemies of Spain was ever present to the mind of Philip’s ministers. It was therefore finally determined that the Theologians should draw up articles in conformity with the opinions which they had expressed, and that these should be presented to Digby on his arrival. If he consented to the proposed guarantees, a great step, it was thought, would have been gained towards the overthrow of English Protestantism. If not, the negotiation might be protracted as long as possible, and when the breach came at last, the blame might be thrown upon the inexorable firmness of the Pope. On September 5, the articles were ready. If anything, they were even more stringent than the resolutions which the Theologians had agreed upon. In particular, James was required to promise that he would as soon as possible obtain an Act of Parliament repealing all the laws against the Catholics.[169]
<103>How little these Spanish Theologians knew of England, appears more plainly from another paper drawn up by them on the same day. September.Additional proposals of the Theologians.The additional proposals which it contained were not, they said, to be pressed; but they thought them to be such as might be laid before Digby, if a favourable opportunity occurred. The demands thus made were certainly startling. The Prince was to be asked to change his religion. Public liberty of worship was to be granted to the Catholics, with permission to erect churches wherever they pleased, a permission which was to be duly confirmed by Act of Parliament. Lastly, Catholic professors were to be allowed to teach in the universities.[170]
These preposterous demands were not adopted by the Spanish Government. The other articles were placed in the hands of Negotiations opened with Digby.Aliaga, the King’s confessor, the only one amongst the Theologians who was allowed to speak a word to Digby on the subject.[171] In the previous discussions, Aliaga’s voice had always been raised against unnecessary concessions, and it was therefore supposed that he would be more likely to hold his own in the diplomatic struggle which was impending.
No sooner had Digby arrived, than he was asked by Aliaga whether he was prepared to grant liberty of conscience, — that is to say, not merely connivance at the breach of the penal statutes, but a total repeal of the statutes themselves. Digby replied with courtesy. He should be glad, he said, to see <104>such a change in the law, but for the present at least it was absolutely impracticable. The consent of Parliament must be obtained, and no possible Parliament would consent to the measure on any consideration whatever. He had brought no instructions relating to the English Catholics. It was a matter which must be reserved for direct negotiation with his master. All that he was empowered to do was to discuss the articles relating to the Infanta and her household, and to come to an understanding on the amount of the portion to be paid by the King of Spain.
Aliaga at once saw that the struggle on the point in which he was chiefly interested must be postponed. He was far too skilful 1618.Digby’s conferences with Aliaga.not to perceive that it was his interest to avoid all irritating topics for the present. Instead, therefore, of producing the proposals of the Theologians, he opened the discussion upon Digby’s twenty articles with a determination to send him away as well pleased as possible. Ignorant as he was of the Spaniard’s real feelings, Digby was delighted with his reception. Everything, he assured James in his despatches, was going on well. Some slight alterations in the articles had been demanded, and he had noted them down for reference to England. As to the portion, the full sum of 600,000l. would be given, and he had been assured that if the King of England would only give satisfaction on the point of religion, he should have nothing to complain of with respect to money.[172]
After a few months’ stay at Madrid, Digby’s work was completed. May.Digby returns to England.He hastened his return to England, in order that the important question of toleration might be settled before Gondomar left his post. But the Spanish diplomatist was James unable to promise toleration.unable to bring even James to consent to the new and exorbitant terms which were now demanded by his master. James, indeed, was ready to promise anything in vague generalities. He would <105>do everything that he could, but the revocation of the penal laws was not his to grant.[173]
It was not that James was in any way desirous of drawing back. Not only had he assured Gondomar in the warmest terms of his desire that the marriage should take place, but he had added that he was well aware that it could not take place unless satisfaction were given to the Pope with respect to the treatment of the English Catholics.[174] A Spanish marriage, he said on another occasion, was incompatible with a persecution of the Catholics.[175]
James did his best to prove by his acts the sincerity of his words. He sent over as a gift to the Archduke Albert the golden crucifix which had been used by Queen Mary.[176] He offered to liberate sixty priests who were in prison, and to allow them to leave the country with Gondomar, and this number was afterwards increased to more than a hundred. Gondomar was even more hopeful of the Prince’s good-will than he was of the King’s. He had already suggested to him that, if his father did not agree to the necessary terms, he might obtain his bride by wooing her in person at Madrid.[177]
Yet, in spite of all that James or Charles might say or do, Gondomar knew that he had not obtained the concessions which were indispensable if the Pope’s consent was to be given. It seemed to him that, The negotiation suspended.after four years of constant discussion, the project, from which so much had been hoped on both sides, had come to nothing. James could not give way if he would, and Lerma, speaking in Philip’s name, would not give way if he could. If, indeed, circumstances were to arise which would make it more than ordinarily important to humour the King of England, it was still possible that Lerma might be induced, at least in appearance, to <106>reconsider his decision. But, for the present, it seemed hardly likely that anything of the kind would take place. Yet neither party was willing to break off the negotiation. James could not so easily give up all hope of the 600,000l. which were to have paid his debts, and he was equally reluctant to abandon that close alliance with Spain which was the corner-stone of his foreign policy. He persuaded himself that the treaty was still on foot, and that the Spanish Government, after receiving Gondomar’s report, would probably be satisfied without any express grant of toleration to the English Catholics. Lerma was not likely to wish to undeceive him. He would have counted it a good stroke of policy, if he could have gone on bandying the marriage backwards and forwards between London and Madrid at least as long as there was a single French princess left unmarried.
The other negotiation with which Digby, who had recently been raised to the peerage, as Lord Digby of Sherborne, had been entrusted 1617.The proposed expedition against the pirates.had hardly reached a more promising stage. Before he left London in 1617, one obstacle indeed had been cleared out of the way of the expedition against Algiers. The Dutch had refused to hear of any co-operation with the Spanish fleet,[178] and Digby was therefore spared the annoyance of proposing to unwilling ears a close alliance between the countrymen of Alva and the countrymen of Heemskerk. Even if the English fleet were to come alone, the prospect could not fail to be most distasteful to the Spanish ministers. They listened to Digby’s arguments, but it was only after a delay of several months that 1618.they replied that the English might come if they pleased, but that under no circumstances could the two nations act together. Such was the promising commencement of that alliance which was to be the guarantee for the peace of Europe.[179]
<107>Even this amount of cordiality did not last long. Not many days after the concession had been made, news arrived from America that a Spanish town had been burned to the ground, and that Spaniards had been massacred by a band of Englishmen.[180] The Government at Madrid at once caught at the excuse, and refused to say anything more about the pirates till reparation had been made.[181] For the jealousy with which Spaniards regarded the entry of armed Englishmen into the Straits of Gibraltar was as nothing to the jealousy with which they regarded their presence in the Indies.
[109] The Earl of Manchester.
[110] Lloyd’s State Worthies (ed. 1766), ii. 351.
[111] Marioni to the Doge, July 23⁄Aug. 2, 1618, Venice MSS.
[112] Popularly believed to be 20,000l. Lionello to the Doge, Dec. 12⁄22, 1616, Venice MSS. But see Suckling and others to Buckingham, July 29, 1623, S. P. Dom. cxliv. 91.
[113] The King to Brackley, Feb. 9, Biog. Brit. Article Egerton, note W.
[114] “Withal, some say, he had vowed never to set the seal to two patents that were sent him, the one for the sale of woods, the other for some impositions on inns. So the King, seeing all things of that nature to stand still by reason of his sickness, went to visit him on Wednesday.” Chamberlain to Carleton, March 8, S. P. Dom. xc. 105. This does not, I think, imply more than is stated above. It is the sickness that is the obstacle, not the nature of the patents. It is very improbable that Ellesmere objected to the latter patent as illegal. In another contemporary letter we are simply told that when he saw that the King would not accept his resignation, ‘he began to refuse all things that were sent him from the King to seal: he refused my Lord Gerard’s patent to be Lord President of the Marches of Wales.’ Gerard to Carleton, March 20, S. P. Dom. xc. 135. The last-mentioned refusal is natural enough, as he wished for the appointment for his own son.
[115] Chamberlain to Carleton, March 8, S. P. Dom. xc. 105.
[116] Chamberlain to Carleton, March 29, ibid. xc. 146. The warrant, adds the writer, ‘sticks now I know not where, unless it be that he must give’ more money. The delay was, however, merely owing to a question of etiquette. Bacon to Buckingham, April 13, Letters and Life, vi. 167; Works, ed. Montagu, xii. 316.
[117] Sherburn to Carleton, Feb. 23. Chamberlain to Carleton, March 15. Gerard to Carleton, March 20, S. P. Dom. xc. 81, 122, 135.
[118] Whitelocke, Liber Famelicus, 55. Yelverton is sometimes praised for not having taken part against Somerset, after owing his appointment <81>as Solicitor-General to his influence, and his conduct is contrasted with that of Bacon in the trial of Essex. It may have been the case that Yelverton objected to act; but it merely rests on Weldon’s word, and Weldon was sufficiently ignorant to think he was Attorney-General at the time, and was committed to the Tower for his conduct.
[119] Whitelocke, ibid. 54.
[120] Sarmiento to Lerma, Feb. 9⁄19, Simancas MSS. 2596, fol. 43.
[121] Rymer’s Fœdera, xvii. 8.
[122] Letters and Life, vi. 182.
[123] Chamberlain to Carleton, May 10, S. P. Dom. xcii. 18.
[124] Bacon to Buckingham, May 8. Buckingham to Bacon, May 18, Letters and Life, vi. 194, 199.
[125] Bacon to Buckingham, June 8, ibid. vi. 208.
[126] Castle to Miller, Nov. 19, Court and Times of James I., i. 439. Chamberlain to Carleton, Nov. 23, 1616, S. P. Dom. lxxxix. 39.
[127] Winwood to Lake, June 2. Chamberlain to Carleton, June 4, S. P. Dom. xcii. 57, 61.
[128] Chamberlain to Carleton, June 22, 1616, S. P. Dom. lxxxvii. 67.
[129] Patent Rolls, 5 Jac. 1, part 29.
[130] Grant to Rich and Hatton. Grant to Rous and Shute, July 20, 1616, S. P. Sign Manuals, vi. 68, 69.
[131] Act of Council, Biog. Brit. Article Coke, note R.
[132] Lansdowne MSS. 160, fol. 238. Sherburn to Carleton, May 25. Winwood to Lake, June 2, S. P. Dom. xcii. 43, 57. Mr. Bruce, in his preface to his Calendar of Domestic State Papers for 1634, has printed a paper in which Lady Hatton recounts her wrongs. But I confess that I hesitate to accept as evidence the statements of a lady whose memory is so bad that she assigns a date to her marriage which is some months after the birth of her first child. In the same volume will be found an account of the fortunes of Coke’s eldest daughter by his second marriage.
[133] Council Register, June 11. It is amusing to notice Lady Hatton’s oblique allusion to her husband in her will. “Having seriously considered,” she says, “how I have abounded with temporal felicity while I was the happy wife of Sir W. Hatton, my first most faithful and dear deceased husband … with whose breath all my transitory happiness expired, and then, for want of spiritual consideration, the storms of a tempestuous life overtaking me had for so many years so far eclipsed the comfort of this life, that my very being was a burden to me,” &c., Harl. MSS. 7193, fol. 16.
[134] Indenture between Coke and Burghley, Close Rolls, 41 Eliz. Part 25.
[135] Chamberlain to Carleton, July 6, 1616, S. P. Dom. lxxxviii. 6.
[136] Chamberlain to Carleton, Nov. 9, 1616; March 15, 1617, S. P. Dom. lxxxix. 17; xc. 122.
[137] Goodman, Court of James, i. 283. Chamberlain to Carleton, July 5, 1617, S. P. Dom. xcii. 88.
[138] Chamberlain to Carleton, Oct. 11, S. P. Dom. xciii. 124.
[139] Coke to Buckingham, July 15. Campbell’s Chief Justices, i. 298.
[140] Answer of Lady Hatton. Campbell’s Chief Justices, i. 300.
[141] Obligation of Frances Coke, July 10, S. P. Dom. xciii. 28, i.
[142] Chamberlain to Carleton, July 19, ibid. xcii. 96.
[143] Bacon to Buckingham, July 12, Letters and Life, vi. 223.
[144] A passage in Sir William Monson’s advice to his Son, prefixed to his Naval Tracts, coming as it does, in the midst of the gravest exhortations to morality, will serve as a good example of the views entertained generally upon the subject.
“If you marry after my death,” wrote the Admiral, “choose a wife as near as you can suitable to your calling, years, and condition; for such marriages are made in heaven, though celebrated on earth.”
“If your estate were great, your choice might be the freer; but where the preferment of your sisters must depend upon your wife’s portion, let not your fancy overrule your necessity. It is an old saying — ‘He that marries for love has evil days and good nights.’ Consider, if you marry for affection, how long you will be raising portions for your sisters, and the misery you shall live in all the days of your life; for the greatest fortune that a man can expect is in his marriage. A wise man is known by his actions; but where passion and affection sway, that man is deprived of sense and understanding.”
[145] Bacon’s Letters and Life, vi. 225.
[146] Bacon to the King, July 25. Bacon to Buckingham, July 25, Letters and Life, vi. 232, 235. Chamberlain to Carleton, July 19, S. P. Dom. xcii. 96.
[147] Buckingham to Bacon, Bacon’s Letters and Life, vi. 237. The King’s letter has not been preserved, but its tenor may be gathered from Bacon’s reply. The remarks above are founded on those of Mr. Spedding. Ibid. vi. 241, note 1.
[148] Bacon to the King, Letters and Life, vi. 238. Mr. Spedding believed this letter to have been written about Aug. 12.
[149] Bacon to Buckingham, Aug. 23, ibid. vi. 242.
[150] The King to Bacon, Aug. 25 or 26. Bacon to the King, Aug. 31, ibid. v. 243, 245.
[151] Lake to Winwood, Aug. 28, S. P. Dom. xciii. 69.
[152] Complaint against Lady Hatton. Campbell’s Chief Justices, i. 300; Council Register, Sept. 1 and 3.
[153] Yelverton to Bacon, Sept. 3, Letters and Life, vi. 247.
[154] Buckingham to Bacon, Sept. 5, ibid. vi. 249.
[155] Buckingham to Bacon, ibid. vi. 251. Weldon’s story of the meeting of Bacon and Buckingham may be dismissed at once. Perhaps he saw something on which he founded it, but who can say what it was?
[156] Herbert to Carleton, Oct. 6, S. P. Dom. xciii. 114.
[157] Gondomar to the Archduke Albert, Oct. 2⁄12, Madrid Palace Library.
[158] Chamberlain to Carleton, Oct. 11, S. P. Dom. xciii. 124.
[159] Frances Coke to Lady Hatton, Campbell’s Chief Justices, i. 302.
[160] Chamberlain to Carleton, Oct. 31, S. P. Dom. xciii. 158.
[161] Chamberlain to Carleton, Nov. 8. Pory to Carleton, Nov. 8. Peyton to Carleton, Nov. S. P. Dom. xciv. 12, 15, 23.
[162] Chamberlain to Carleton, May 31, 1619, ibid. cix. 61.
[163] Chamberlain to Carleton, Oct. 25 and 31, 1617, ibid. xciii. 140, 158.
[164] Carleton to Chamberlain, Nov. 8, 1617, S. P. Holland.
[165] Sherburn to Carleton, Nov. 7, 1617, S. P. Dom. xciv. 11.
[166] Chamberlain to Carleton, Nov. 8, 1617, ibid. xciv. 12. Council Register, Jan. 8, 1618. Salvetti’s News-Letter, Jan. 14⁄24, 1618.
[167] On the popular name, Lord Bacon, see Mr. Spedding’s observations in Letters and Life, vi. 316.
[168] He died a few years later. His brother, who became the Emperor Ferdinand III., was eventually the husband of the Infanta.
[169] Memoir on the state of the negotiations, May (?). Uzeda to the <103>Cardinal of Toledo, Aug. 4, 16⁄14, 26. Articles drawn up by the Theologians, Sept. 5⁄15, 1617, Simancas MSS. 2859, fol. 11, 12, 13; 2518, fol. 41. M. Guizot has inferred from the Consultas of July 7⁄17 and July 24⁄Aug. 3 that the only intention of the Spanish Government was to spin out the negotiations. (Un Projet de Mariage Royale, 60.) The papers containing evidence of the scheme for the conversion of England do not seem to have fallen into his hands.
[170] Additional articles, Sept. 5⁄15, 1617, Francisco de Jesus, App. 5.
[171] Lerma to Aliaga and others, Sept. 24⁄Oct. 4. Consulta of the Council of State, Sept. 30⁄Oct. 10, 1617, Simancas MSS. 2859, fol. 21; 2518, fol. 36.
[172] Paper given by Digby to Aliaga, Dec. 19⁄29. Digby to Aliaga, Feb. 9⁄19. Memoir on the state of the negotiations, March (?), Simancas MSS. 2859, fol. 30, 28, 36. Digby to the King, Oct. 8, Jan. 15 and March 20, S. P. Spain. Francisco De Jesus, 18.
[173] Francisco de Jesus, 22–24.
[174] The Bishop of Otranto to Borghese, Feb. 7⁄17, Roman Transcripts, R. O.
[175] Gondomar to Philip III., June 16⁄26, Madrid Palace Library.
[176] The Bishop of Otranto to Borghese, April 11⁄21, Roman Transcripts, R. O.
[177] Gondomar to Philip III., June 14⁄24, Madrid Palace Library. Gondomar to Philip III., July 5⁄15, Simancas MSS. 2524, fol. 77.
[178] Lake to Carleton, May 6. Winwood to Carleton, June 4. Carleton to Lake, June 7. Carleton to Winwood, Aug. 12, Carleton Letters, 135, 136, 148, 160.
[179] Consultas of the Council of State, Oct. 30⁄Nov. 9, Nov. 25⁄Dec. 5, 1617. Philip III. to Gondomar, March 22⁄April 1. Consulta of the Council of War, April 14⁄24. <107>Consulta of the Council of State, April 18⁄28, 1618. Simancas MSS. 2850, fol. 13, 22, 25, 26.
[180] Philip III. to Gondomar, May 30⁄June 9, 1618, ibid. 2572, fol. 312.
[181] Sanchez to Philip III., Jan. 7⁄17 1619, ibid. 2599, fol. 40.