<261>For some years men had been looking to the disputed succession in the duchies of Cleves and Juliers as the principal danger to European peace. In reality, the seeds of disaster had been sown unnoticed in the hereditary dominions of the Emperor. Those dominions had been brought together by a long succession of princes. The fortunate marriages of the House of Austria had long passed into a proverb, and there are probably many who still accept the satirical distich[425] which affirms that Austria has received from Venus what others owe to Mars, as a sufficient explanation of the strange fortune which has piled so many crowns upon the heads of the descendants of Rudolph of Hapsburg.
As a matter of fact, however, for two centuries and a half the work of dissolution went on as rapidly as that of annexation. It was in vain that one archduke after another wedded in turn the heiress of each neighbouring duchy or kingdom. The repulsion between rival districts and rival races was too strong to be overcome, and it was rarely that the second generation did not see the tie broken, and the work of union for a time undone.
What dynastic ambition was unable to accomplish was effected at once by the The Turkish wars.fear of the Turkish power. After the terrible defeat of Mohacs in 1526, Hungary and Bohemia threw themselves into the arms of <262>Ferdinand I.; and, as long as the conflict lasted, they remained, on the whole, faithful to his successors. It was not till the peace of Sitva Torok, in 1606, that the terror of a Turkish conquest abated; and scarcely was the ink dry upon the treaty, when the commotions which preceded the deposition of Rudolph II. gave an unmistakeable sign that the light bond which had held the various races together for eighty years, was being strained to the utmost.
The fear of the janissaries, which had made the Archduke of Austria King of Hungary and Bohemia, had also made him Emperor. Attitude of the House of Austria toward the Protestants.In both capacities he was brought face to face with the Protestantism of his subjects. In the conflict which awaited him as soon as he should have assured his eastern frontier from invasion, he could hardly take any other side than that of which Charles V. had constituted himself the champion. It was not merely by their Spanish blood, and by the memories of the ancient connection of the Roman See with the great office which they held, that the descendants of Ferdinand I. were driven, sometimes almost against their will, into the arms of the Catholic clergy. In their own peculiar domains, as well as in the Empire, they found themselves engaged in a lifelong contest with a Protestant aristocracy; and in the discipline of the Roman Church they grasped the lever by which they hoped to shake to the foundations the strongholds of their rivals.
It was the misfortune of the Protestantism which sprang into existence in the dominions of the House of Austria, that its fate was Protestantism in the Austrian dominions.intimately united with that of an anarchical aristocracy. Nowhere in Europe had the Protestant clergy so little influence. No Austrian Calvin or Knox, not even a Latimer or a Ridley, had sprung into existence. The Bohemian Confession of Faith stands alone amongst the countless Confessions of the sixteenth century, as the work of a body composed entirely of laymen. That amongst those vast populations there were thousands whose faith was sincere, cannot be doubted for a moment. That little band of mediæval Puritans, the Bohemian Brothers, had long submitted to an iron discipline; and, in the midst of <263>trials and persecutions, had proved their constancy long before the name of Protestantism had been heard of. There were large numbers of Lutherans, who, when the day of trial came, proved their attachment to their creed by submitting to poverty and exile for its sake; and there were still larger numbers who handed down their faith in secret to their children, to burst forth once more when the edict of toleration was issued by Joseph II. Nor is it possible to estimate how far religion may have exercised its influence upon the hearts even of those who had adopted it as the watchword of a political party. Yet, when every allowance has been made, the dispassionate inquirer, however badly he may think of the religious system by which Protestantism was superseded in these territories, can hardly do otherwise than rejoice at the defeat of the political system of the men by whom Protestantism was in the main supported.[426]
To the great feudal families the adoption of the new religion had commended itself as the readiest way of shaking off the supremacy of the Crown. It gave them, upon their own estates, all the power which had been assumed by the German princes within their territories. It enabled them to seize Church property by force or fraud, and to trample at pleasure upon the wishes and feelings of their serfs. It annihilated the authority of the sovereign and of the clergy, to the sole profit of the landowner.
Nor would the evil results of the victory of the aristocracy have ended here. Entailing, as it would necessarily have done, the dissolution of the ties which bound German Austria to Hungary and Bohemia, it would have thrown the whole of Eastern Europe into confusion, and would have reopened the road into the heart of Germany to the Mussulman hordes.
If aristocratical Protestantism had been able to organize itself anywhere, it would have been in Bohemia. Cut off by <264>a wall of mountains from Germany, and in a great measure The Bohemian aristocracy.separated by race from their western neighbours, the Bohemians ought to have formed a compact national body, able to resist all attempts to force upon them a religion which they detested. Once already they had shown the world of what efforts a thoroughly aroused nation is capable; but that had been in the days which had long passed by — when rich and poor had gathered in brotherly union round the cup, as the symbol of equality before God. The gigantic cups still held their places outside the churches to which they had been elevated by a past generation. To be an Utraquist was still the official designation of a Protestant. But the spirit of the old Utraquism had succumbed with its doctrines; and whatever enthusiasm might be excited by the new Lutheranism which had too often been nothing more than the cloak beneath which the landowners had thrown off all authority in Church and State, it was certain that it was very different from the wild fanaticism which had enabled the followers of Ziska and Procopius to scatter the Imperial hosts of Sigismund like chaff before the wind.[427]
The revolution which overthrew the tottering throne of Rudolph II. had been a golden opportunity alike for the Protestants and the aristocracy. 1609.The Royal Charter of Bohemia.By the royal charter which was extorted from the falling monarch, complete liberty of conscience was accorded to every Bohemian, from the noble to the serf, who adhered either to the Bohemian Confession of 1575, or who belonged to the Society of the Bohemian Brothers; though, as in England, liberty of conscience was not held to imply liberty of worship. In the royal towns, indeed, and on the royal domains, both Catholics and Protestants might build as many churches as they pleased. But the Bohemian aristocracy would indeed have changed its nature, if they had proclaimed upon their own estates the freedom which they forced upon the King. There they were still to be the masters; and they would take good care that <265>their serfs and dependents should not be admitted to the exercise of a religion which was not to the taste of their lords.
This settlement, which was confirmed by Matthias when, by the expulsion of his brother Rudolph, he ascended the throne of Bohemia, Its insufficiency.was without any of the elements of permanency. In many respects, the principle adopted was similar to that which, for more than half a century, had prevailed in Germany. But there was one important difference. The German princes had virtually become territorial sovereigns, and had taken upon themselves the duties with the responsibilities of sovereignty. The Bohemian nobles were still landowners and nothing more. Their estates were too small, and Constantinople was too near, to render feasible a change in their position which would place them on an equal footing with an elector of Saxony or a landgrave of Hesse. A king of Bohemia must still be retained, and the actual king was one who was far more opposed to the nobility than James II. was to the English people in 1688, or Charles X. was to the French people in 1830.
Such a state of things could not last. Either the nobility would set aside the king, or the king would beat down the nobility. Approaching revolution.At first sight, the former contingency might have appeared to be unavoidable. Three-fourths of the population, and all the military forces of the kingdom, were at the disposal of the Protestants. They could count on the warm sympathy, if not upon the active aid, of the great landowners in all the other states of which the dominions of their sovereign were composed. All this would avail them little unless they could ripen in a moment into wise and forecasting statesmen, and could bow their heads to the stern yoke of discipline and self-denial by which nations are founded — unless, in a word, men with all, and more than all, the failings of the English cavaliers could learn at once to display the virtues of the burghers of Leyden and the Ironsides of Cromwell.
They had already chosen the field of battle upon which the conflict was to be waged. In popular language, the Church lands, which were still held by the Catholic bishops and abbots, were considered as the property of the Crown. This <266>interpretation had been accepted by all parties at the time of the drawing up of the law which guaranteed the details of the new arrangements introduced by the royal charter. The clergy continued to hold a different opinion, and maintained that they had as much right to regulate the religious worship of their own territories as any of the temporal magnates.
This view of their position, in which the strictly legal use of terms was adopted in preference to the popular, received the hearty support of Matthias,[428] to whom the question was indeed of vital importance, from a political as well as from a Question of freedom of worship in the Church lands.religious point of view. The ecclesiastical domains were almost the last supports on which his throne rested; and to be deprived of them was tantamount to surrendering his crown at once to the nobility.
In 1617, a golden opportunity was offered to the Bohemians of fighting their battle on favourable ground. The Emperor 1617.Candidature of Ferdinand of Styria.Matthias and his brothers were alike childless, and the Princes of the House had fixed upon his cousin, Ferdinand of Styria, as the fittest person to be entrusted with the united inheritance of the family. Ferdinand was accordingly presented to the Estates for acceptance as their future king.
The terms in which the proposition was couched were <267>sufficient to show that the throne was now claimed by hereditary right, and an attempt to postpone the Diet, with the object of proceeding to an election of some other candidate, failed signally before the overwhelming evidence adduced in favour of the doctrine that, excepting in the event of a failure of heirs, the crown of Bohemia was hereditary and not elective.[429] It is true that in the midst of the confusions incident to the last revolution, Matthias himself had been elected, and Rudolph, glad enough to say or do anything which might in any way affect the position of the brother whom he detested, had acknowledged the crown to have passed to him in right of this election. But so plain was it that constitutional usage was on the other side, that the great majority of the Protestant members of the Diet agreed to accept Ferdinand as their king.
Yet powerful as the force of argument had been, it seems strange that no attempt was made to settle the question of the ecclesiastical lands. The dispute had been on foot for years, and it was evident that unless the opportunity were seized for coming to an understanding on the question, it would survive as a standing cause of discord between the nation and its king.
The Bohemians could have been under no misapprehension of the character and intentions of Ferdinand. The friend and Character of Ferdinand.pupil of the Jesuits, he had already gained an evil reputation for intolerance, which was even worse than he deserved.
In fact, it was hard to form a clear conception of the views and opinions of such a man, in the very midst of the contest in which he was involved. Even now his distinct place in the scale which leads from the unquestioning intolerance of men like our Henry V., to the large tolerance of men like William III., has still to be recognised. Step by step, as each generation took its place upon the stage, the political aspect of ecclesiastical disputes presented itself more vividly to the minds of <268>the representative men of the age, whilst the theological aspect was gradually dropping out of sight. The place of Ferdinand is to be found midway between Philip II. and Richelieu. To the Spaniard of the sixteenth century, Protestantism was still an odious heresy, which, if it were allowed to spread, might perhaps be injurious to the supremacy of the Spanish Monarchy, but which was chiefly to be abominated as tainting the religious faith of Christians. By the Frenchman of the seventeenth century it was regarded entirely from a political point of view. Ferdinand would have sympathised with neither. To him Protestantism was hateful, but rather as a source of moral and political disorder than as a spiritual poison.[430]
It could not well have been otherwise. When he passed as a boy from his own distracted land into Bavaria, where he was to His education.receive his education from the Jesuits of Ingolstadt, the language of the Catholic reaction must have seemed to him almost like a Divine revelation. At Munich he saw an orderly and well-regulated government walking hand in hand with an honoured clergy. At home he knew that every landowner was doing what was right in the sight of his own eyes. To him the religious condition of the Austrian territories must have appeared even more anarchical than it really was. Doubtless a Protestant ruler of ability might have succeeded in reducing the chaos to order, and in beating down the arrogance of the nobles without crushing the faith of the people. But such a course was impossible for Ferdinand. He knew of but one fountain of justice and order — the Church of Rome.
To a lifelong struggle against that which was in his eyes the root of all evil, Ferdinand devoted himself by a pilgrimage to Loretto. Yet it would be wrong to speak of him as an <269>ordinary persecutor. He never put himself forward as a general extirpator of heresy. His pilgrimage to Loretto.He never displayed any personal animosity against heretics. His own nature was kindly and forgiving, and he was, by disposition, inclined to peace. The motto which he chose for himself, “For those who strive lawfully,”[431] displays his own measure of the work which he had undertaken. The champion of the law, he would observe the law himself. Whatever he had sworn to his own hurt he would execute; but whatever rights the law gave him he would unflinchingly maintain. No unintelligible theories about the rights of conscience should weigh with him for an instant. If Protestants could prove that the letter of the law was on their side, he would be the first to support them in their demands. If they had nothing but its spirit to appeal to, he would be the first to close his ear to them. His orderly and resolute mind was thoroughly narrow. One side of the great question of the day was the only one which he was able to see. Rights which were clear enough to others were no rights at all to him. In maintaining his position he was as fearless as he was incapable of doubt. When called upon to face a raging multitude, he would be as calm as if he were standing in the midst of a circle of devoted friends. For the statesman’s task of balancing opposing duties he was altogether unfitted. When complicated questions forced themselves upon him, the undaunted champion of the Church sunk at once into a perplexed and vacillating politician.
If there was any one principle more generally accepted in Germany than another, it was that which accorded to the Princes His treatment of the Protestants in his hereditary states.the right of regulating the religious affairs of their own dominions. Ferdinand, therefore, who had inherited from his father the Duchies of Styria, Carinthia, and Carniola, had no sooner grasped the reins of government firmly in his hands than he proceeded to proscribe Protestantism in his dominions by offering to his subjects the choice between conversion and exile. The ease with which the change was effected would seem to indicate that <270>Protestantism had not any very deep hold upon the hearts of the mass of the population.
Such was the man who had been accepted by the Bohemians as their future king. He had, it is true, sworn to observe The right of church-building in Bohemia.the royal charter, and there is no reason to doubt that he would have scrupulously kept his promise. But the Bohemian Protestants must have been very ignorant or very simple if they imagined that he would accept their interpretation of the law, and acknowledge that it guaranteed to them the right of building churches upon the ecclesiastical lands.
As might have been expected, the Catholics derived new courage from the election. At Braunau, before the end of the year, the Abbot brought his long struggle with the townsmen to a close by locking the doors of the Protestant church in the faces of the congregation. At Klostergrab a church built upon the domains of the see of Prague was pulled down by order of the Archbishop.
The news was received with indignation by the Protestant nobility. The men who had done nothing and had foreseen nothing when 1618.The Bohemian Revolution.action and foresight would have availed them, burst into fury at what was, after all, only the natural result of their own conduct. They flocked to Prague to discuss their grievances in common with the representatives of the towns. Matthias wrote to them from Vienna assuming the responsibility of all that had been done,[432] and ordering them to suspend their meetings for a time. The deputies of the towns now, as always, hesitating in their opposition to the Sovereign by whom their commercial interests were protected against the encroachments of the aristocracy,[433] were inclined to obey the mandate; but the nobles were unwilling to draw back. Armed with pistols, and followed by an excited mob, the Protestant leaders, with Count Thurn at their <271>head, made their way to the chamber where the Board of Regency, to which the government had been entrusted in the absence of Matthias, held its sittings. After a fierce altercation they seized Martinitz and Slawata, to whose counsels they attributed the prohibition of their assembly, and dragging them, together with the equally unpopular secretary Fabricius, to the window, hurled them out from a height of little less than eighty feet. By a strange fortune, which pious Catholics have been accustomed to attribute to the interposition of Him without whose permission a sparrow does not fall to the ground, the three victims were able to crawl away from the spot on which they fell, and not a single life was lost.
It was a wild deed of vengeance, for which precedents culled from Bohemian history could form no justification. Yet for the moment it placed the rioters in possession of Bohemia. In a few days, after what was technically called the ‘defenestration,’ the Estates had named thirty Directors to administer the government in their name, had ordered a levy of troops to defend their privileges, and had expelled the Jesuits from the country.
After this the outbreak of hostilities could not long be postponed. Troops were sent by the Directors to reduce Budweis and Pilsen, Commencement of hostilities.two Catholic cities which had resisted the authority of the Estates. Matthias could do no less than send assistance to those who had remained faithful to him; and, in the beginning of August, Bucquoi, a general who had been summoned from Brussels to take the command of the Imperial forces, crossed the frontier of Bohemia.[434]
Meanwhile Matthias was looking round in every direction for help; but the prostration of Austrian rule was so complete that the Catholic powers shrunk from involving themselves in its ruin. In Hungary, in Silesia, in Moravia, in Austria itself, the nobility was almost entirely Protestant. The Duke of Bavaria, the politic Maximilian, refused to stir. The Spanish <272>Government sent a paltry sum of a hundred thousand ducats,[435] and talked of sending two hundred thousand more.[436] If the German Protestants had been unanimous in the support of Bohemia, the huge bulk of the dominions of the German branch of the House of Austria, honeycombed as it was with disaffection, would have broken up from its own inherent weakness.
That the Bohemians, on the other hand, would be likely to meet with any general Feeling in Germany.sympathy in Germany, was far from probable. Two different tendencies of thought had been the moving agents of the men of the past century, and their influences were still living. On the one hand, there had been the spirit of religious fellowship, the conviction that identity of creed formed the strongest bond of union, and that all men were called upon to suffer and to act on behalf of their co-religionists in every part of the world. On the other hand, there had been the belief in the divine authority of Government against intriguing priests and presbyters, and the conviction that rebellion was in itself an evil. In the first years of the seventeenth century these two views of life each found a support in one of the great parties into which German Protestantism was divided. Theological opposition to Rome formed the strength of Calvinism, whilst Lutheranism was the creed of those who regarded religion in its more secular aspect.
At the head of the Lutheran states stood John George, Elector of Saxony. Spending his days in the hunting-field, and The Elector of Saxony.his evenings in deep carouses, from which he seldom retired sober, he had neither time nor inclination for intellectual culture. If he hated anything at all it was the turmoil of war, and the feverish excitement of Calvinism. The politics of his family had long been Imperialist. It was by the favour of one emperor that his great uncle, Maurice, had become an elector. It was by the favour <273>of another emperor that his brother and himself had prosecuted their claims to the Duchy of Cleves. Yet sluggish and improvident as he was in political matters, it would be unfair to speak of his imperialism as if it had been altogether personal and selfish. It resulted in part from the old feeling of attachment to the time-honoured institutions of the Empire, and in part from the belief that in them might be found a shelter against the anarchy which appeared likely to set in, if nothing better than the law of the strongest was to be invoked in the disputes which might from time to time arise between the members of the Empire.
Nor did John George stand alone in the support which he gave to the Emperor. Wherever anarchy was feared, a public opinion Strength of Lutheran opinion.was forming which, if only the religious rights of the Protestants could be placed under an adequate safeguard, would have borne the wearer of the Imperial crown on to an authority which his predecessors had not known for many a year. The dismal results of the weakness of Rudolph and Matthias had not been without fruit. Men were tired of hearing that German soil had been harried by foreign soldiers, and that German towns were garrisoned by Dutch or Spanish troops. They were tired, too, of the perpetual threats and rumours of war, and there could be little doubt that an Emperor who could do justice to Catholic and Protestant alike, would have won all hearts to his standard. The notion that the Electors and Princes of the Empire were but vassals of the Emperor, still retained its vitality, and under favourable circumstances might have once more impressed itself upon the history of the nation.[437]
Yet, strong as this feeling was, there was room for other considerations by its side. Its weakness.In remembering the rights of princes and states, the Lutheran ran no slight risk of forgetting the rights of human beings. If by no <274>other means it was possible to prevent the desolation of the soil, and the never-ending slaughter of defenceless citizens in the name of religion, it might perhaps be necessary to look on whilst the master of each territory moulded the religious worship of his subjects at his pleasure. But it was a heavy price to pay for civil order; and anyone who could have struck out a more comprehensive theory would have deserved well of his contemporaries.
Unhappily the southern princes, who, with Frederick V., the young Elector Palatine, at their head, formed the main body of the Union, Policy of the Calvinists.were not the men to give popularity to their revolt against the merely legal settlement which found favour with the Lutherans of the North. It was not amongst them that the great principles of religious liberty were likely to dawn upon the world. Wedged in between Catholic Bavaria and the Franconian bishoprics on the one side, and the states of the Rhenish bishops on the other, they lived in constant apprehension of danger. Calvinists from sheer antagonism to their neighbours, their talk was ever of war. Schemes of aggression, which would have revolted the common sense of Northern Germany, and which it was necessary carefully to conceal from the merchants of the cities of the South, were lightly talked of by these princes. It was in Heidelberg and Cassel that the idea had originated of calling upon the King of France to dictate terms to Germany at his pleasure, and it was at Heidelberg and Cassel that the warmest support was given to any plan which would reduce the power of the Emperor to the most complete insignificance, whilst no thought was ever wasted on the more difficult task of discovering an authority by which the legitimate action of the abased monarch might be replaced. Over the fortunes of The Elector Palatine.men who were steering straight towards anarchy, the youthful Frederick was most unfitted to preside. Too thoughtful to allow the world’s courses to pass unheeded by him, and too much in earnest to be restrained from sacrificing himself for that which he conceived to be the good of his people and his Church, he was utterly deficient in the wisdom which alone can guide great enterprises to a successful end. Exposed by the position of his straggling territory <275>to an attack from Catholic states on every side, and knowing that as a Calvinist, he was not covered by the letter of the treaty of Augsburg, he had grown up with the thought of possible war ever present to his mind. He never forgot that he might one day have to fight in defence of those luxuriant vineyards whose productiveness filled with astonishment even Italians acquainted with the rich Lombard plain, and of the proud castle which looked down upon the rushing stream of the Neckar. In the constant prospect of war, he grew impatient of the restraints of peace. His feeble intellect shed but a flickering and uncertain light upon the path which stretched out into the dark future before him. He was easily elated and easily depressed. Conscious of his weakness, he was now drifting helplessly along under the guidance of one whose will was stronger than his own. The ruler of the hour was Christian of Anhalt, whose eagerness to strike down the hated Austrian family was unrestrained by any consideration of prudence or morality.
The characters of the two Electors were thrown into the strongest light by the reception which they severally gave to The Saxon offer of mediation.the news of the Bohemian revolution. The Elector of Saxony showed the utmost anxiety to maintain peace. To one who asked him what he meant to do, he replied simply, “Help to put out the fire.” His offer of mediation was thankfully accepted by Matthias, and for some time he was able to flatter himself that he would receive the support of the Elector Palatine.
The peace of Germany hung upon the decision of Frederick. Unfortunately, the question was one upon which anyone might have gone astray, and Frederick’s want of plan.upon which Frederick was more likely to go astray than anyone else. It is true that to a revolution in Bohemia and in Austria, which would have followed the example of the Dutch revolution in the preceding century, no real objection could be brought; and, if there were the least chance of producing such a result, it would be far better to assist the Bohemians to total independence than to patch up an agreement with Matthias which was hardly likely to last. Of the difficulties in the way of a settlement of this character, Frederick was, unhappily, in <276>complete ignorance. Of the obstacles opposed by the character and the institutions of Bohemia he knew nothing. Still more fatally ignorant was he that, unless he could gain the good-will of Saxony, he would himself be powerless, and that any assistance which he might be able to give would be more than counterbalanced by the opposition of those who dreaded rebellion in any shape as the prelude to universal confusion. On the whole there can be little doubt that it would have been his best policy to seek a close alliance with John George. The maintenance of religious liberty in Bohemia under the guarantee of Protestant Germany, would no doubt have left room for future troubles. But it was evidently attainable at the time, and any approximation between the Courts of Heidelberg and Dresden would have been fraught with beneficent results for the whole of Germany. That such a guarantee would not have been given in vain is proved by the amount of religious liberty retained in Silesia, even after the catastrophe of 1620, through the interposition of Saxony alone.
Errors of judgment, however, are too common in political life to justify any serious complaint so far against Frederick and his advisers. His wild designs.The really unpardonable offence which they committed was, that in the face of the gravest difficulty which any German prince had ever been called upon to solve, they dared to look upon the troubles in Bohemia as a band of pilferers might look upon a fire in the streets, which, however serious it may be to others, is to them a good opportunity for filling their pockets at the expense of the sufferers and spectators.
To do Frederick justice, he was not the leader in the evil path into which he suffered himself to be dragged by his associates. The proposals of the Duke of Savoy.He had given the Elector of Saxony reason to understand that he was ready to join in the proposed mediation, and it would be the grossest injustice to doubt that he had the good of Germany and Bohemia at heart. But in July, an enticing proposal[438] reached him from <277>that arch intriguer, the Duke of Savoy, who happened to have two thousand men in Germany under the command of the Count of Mansfeld, a soldier of fortune, who had been driven by personal insults to forsake the Spanish service, and who had, accordingly, vowed implacable enmity against the House of Austria. The Duke had originally levied these men for service in Italy against Spain; but, as peace had been signed, he had no further use for them, and now offered, for the sake of the influence which he might gain in Germany, to continue to pay them, if the Princes of the Union were willing to take them into their service. He had no doubt, he added, that the Venetians would be ready to advance large sums of money, and that the Elector would thus be able to appear at the head of an imposing force in the spring.
For a time, Frederick hung back; but the prospect was too seducing to be long resisted. Christian of Anhalt was beside himself with joy. Already he was witnessing in imagination the dismemberment of the dominions of the House of Austria; the only question in his mind was how the spoil was to be divided. At one time it was arranged that the Duke of Savoy was to be Emperor, and that Frederick was to be King of Bohemia. The ecclesiastical princes were to be stripped of their dominions. Then there was a change of plan. The Duke thought that he would like to keep Bohemia for himself; Frederick should be King of Hungary. He might, if he pleased, annex Alsace to the Palatinate; if events were favourable, he might even lay claim to some portions of Austria.[439] At first these schemes were kept from Frederick’s knowledge; but he soon grew accustomed to listen to them without showing any distaste. That they were not at once rejected goes far to explain the reluctance of the Elector of Saxony to be found in close alliance with the Calvinist Prince. It was this also which furnished Ferdinand with an excuse, unhappily too valid, for looking down from the height of his moral superiority upon Protestantism, as if it were only another name for selfishness and unprincipled ambition.
<278>The preparations for mediation were not completed for many months after the revolution at Prague. At the Emperor’s request, The four mediators.the names of the Elector of Mentz and of the Duke of Bavaria had been added to those of the two Protestant Electors.
One at least of the mediators was doing his best to make mediation impossible. Not venturing to speaks out plainly his opinion on Successes of the Bohemians.the prospects of peace, Frederick was continuing, to all outward appearance, his good offices in co-operation with the Elector of Saxony, at the same time that, with the strictest injunctions to secrecy, he sent Mansfeld to the assistance of the revolutionary chiefs. Whatever the ultimate effect of such duplicity might be, the immediate result was favourable to the Bohemian cause. Pilsen was taken, and the Imperialists were driven back on every side. Before the end of the year, Budweis was the only place in Bohemia remaining in the hands of the soldiers of Matthias. Heated by these successes, and still more by the hope of further support from Heidelberg, the Directors had become more than ever averse to any terms short of complete independence.
It was only natural that the events which were passing in Bohemia should engage the earnest attention of the Spanish ministers. The condition of Spain.Their sympathies, religious and political, urged them to place at once their whole force at the disposal of the Emperor. But their poverty was great. How desperate the condition of the monarchy was, is best known from the celebrated report[440] which was at this time in course of preparation by the Council of Castile. Lerma had recently been driven from power by a palace intrigue, in which his own son, the Duke of Uzeda, had taken part with Aliaga, the King’s confessor. He was now in retirement, enjoying, under the shadow of a cardinal’s hat, the illgotten wealth which he had amassed during his years of office. The opportunity was seized by the prudent statesmen whose presence at the Council alone preserved the monarchy from ruin, to call the <279>King’s attention to the miserable condition of the country. The population of the Castiles, they said, was decreasing every day. The taxes were so heavy that it was impossible to pay them. The landowners were absentees, living at Court, and careless of the misery of their dependents. Money had been squandered with unheard-of profusion by the King. The courtiers alone were enriched. The expenses of the royal household exceeded by two-thirds the sum which had sufficed for the wants of Philip II. Impediments were thrown in the way of the sale of the produce of the soil, and of its carriage to market. Finally, the number of the monasteries was out of all proportion to the population, and was increasing every day.
Nothing was done in consequence of this representation. The men who succeeded Lerma were busily imitating his example by Anxiety of the Government.filling their own purses, and had no time to think about the misery of the people; but the knowledge that such a state of things existed could not fail in influencing the decision of the Government when it was called upon to engage in a long and expensive war.[441] Above all, Proposed mediation of James.it made them anxious to know what would be the course which England would adopt. For, whatever Castilian pride might suggest, they knew well enough that to engage in a maritime contest with England, at the same time that they were keeping on foot large armies on the Danube and in Flanders, would tax the resources of the monarchy to the uttermost. Accordingly, Cottington, now again agent at Madrid, during Digby’s absence in England, was asked to convey to James the assurance that his good offices in the Bohemian quarrel would readily be accepted by the King of Spain.[442] At the same time, Lafuente,[443] Gondomar’s confessor, was despatched to England, to support Sanchez in securing a hold on the mind of James, and to tempt him to offer his mediation in Germany, by the assurance of Philip’s readiness to go on with the marriage treaty.
<280>Lafuente had his first audience on September 24, the day after Cottington’s despatch arrived. He found James in a thoroughly good humour, anxious to see the marriage accomplished, not ashamed to season his conversation with indecent jests, and never able to speak highly enough of Gondomar to satisfy himself.[444] James’s reply to the request conveyed through Cottington was all that Lafuente could desire.
The English agent at Madrid was directed to say that, if it were true, as the Bohemians alleged, that they had been His reply.forced to take arms in defence of their lives and property from massacre and spoliation, it was impossible that the King of England could leave them to destruction. He would prefer, however, to see peace established, and he would therefore joyfully take upon himself the proposed mediation.[445]
In short, the policy of James was the same as that of the Elector of Saxony. Resembling one another His policy compared with that of the Elector of Saxony.in character and position, the two men agreed in looking with favour upon the appeal of the Bohemians for help against religious persecution, and in disliking any popular movement which bore the slightest semblance of rebellion.
Yet, whatever his policy may have been, James should have remembered that his position was very different from that of the Elector of Saxony. It was not on his personal qualities that the right of John George to be listened to in the Bohemian dispute was founded. He was a Prince of the Empire. He was the nearest neighbour of the territory where the dispute had arisen. He was well acquainted with the characters of the leaders on both sides. His religion made him the natural ally of one party; his politics made him the natural ally of the other. He could bring into the field no inconsiderable force of his own, and it was probable that his influence would enable him, if not to dispose of, at least to neutralise, the whole strength of the north of Germany.
<281>All this was wanting to James. He was far from the scene of action, and he was ignorant alike of the nature of the quarrel, and of the character of the disputants. What was scarcely of less consequence, with no standing army at his disposal, and no surplus in his exchequer, James would be unable to exercise any appreciable influence over the course of events in the centre of the Continent. If the two Protestant Electors were agreed, they could carry out their views without his aid. If they were at variance, his help would hardly enable either of them to dispose of the fortunes of Germany.
If the evil consequences of James’s acceptance of the proposed mediation had been limited to the expenditure of some 20,000l. Danger of Spanish intervention.in a bootless embassage, no one but himself would have had any right to complain. Unhappily this was not the case. The interest which the Spanish Government took in the affairs of Bohemia, made it highly probable that Philip would sooner or later send succours to his kinsman; and though, even then, it would hardly be wise, in a cause in which German opinion was hopelessly divided, to give the signal for a war which would wrap the whole of the Continent in flames, it could never be either right or prudent to smooth the way for the intervention of Spain in the affairs of Germany. That the acceptance of the mediation, without obtaining a guarantee of the neutrality of Spain, was almost tantamount to an invitation to Philip to persevere in his interference was evident to all who chose to think about the matter.
Whilst James was taking this affair into consideration, the excitement in England against everything Spanish, which had Attempts to induce James to break with Spain.manifested itself at the time of Raleigh’s execution, had not at all subsided, and James was constantly pressed to embark in a war with Spain. The Dutch Commissioners, who were in London to negotiate a mercantile peace in the East Indies,[446] did their best to urge him in the same direction.[447] James was himself annoyed at the return of many of the priests whom he had set at liberty <282>on Gondomar’s departure, and orders were given to the judges to execute all those who were brought before them. Bacon, who was anxious to see an improvement in the King’s revenue, called attention to the falling off of the recusancy fines, and Chief Justice Montague pleaded for the exaction of the full amount.[448]
On every side, James was urged to find a wife for his son other than the Infanta. The Duke of Savoy offered one of his daughters; the Dutch Commissioners proposed a German Princess. Marriages proposed for the Prince.Louis XIII. had no longer the Princess Christina to dispose of, as she was on the eve of her marriage to the Prince of Piedmont; but he gave James to understand that an offer for the hand of his youngest sister, Henrietta Maria, would be highly welcome in Paris.[449] Abbot, Pembroke, and Naunton were never weary of repeating that to support the power of Spain at such a juncture was to endanger the Protestantism of England.
This urgency was sure to produce upon James an effect very opposite to that which had been hoped for. For him a quarrel with Spain 1619.January.James refuses to quarrel with Spain.in such a cause was to put himself at the head of that war of religion to avert which he had always consistently striven. In November, whilst he was negotiating with Lafuente on the marriage treaty, he had raised Digby to the peerage, as Lord Digby of Sherborne, in order that he might return to Spain with the greater credit, to complete the arrangements for the match. He now refused to increase his revenue by raising the recusancy fines, and, countermanding the direction which had been given for the execution of the priests, he contented himself with requesting Philip to keep on his side of the Channel in future prisoners who had been liberated at the petition of his ambassador. As to the alliance with Spain, he anxiously <283>awaited the reply to the communication which he had instructed Cottington to make.[450]
That answer was the subject of much consideration in Spain. Gondomar’s advice was asked, and the late ambassador drew up Jan. 3.Gondomar’s report on English affairs.a memoir on the state of affairs in England. In spite, he said, of his efforts to keep James out of the hands of the war party, it was impossible to be free from anxiety. It was true that the English exchequer was empty, but the nation was rich, and a declaration of war with Spain would immediately be followed by a large grant of money. In a few weeks a powerful fleet could be manned and equipped. On the other hand, at no time had the Spanish navy been so entirely unprepared for war. The sea would swarm with English privateers; and whoever was master at sea would soon be master on shore. The Dutch rebels, the French Huguenots, and the German heretics would place James at the head of a powerful confederacy, and it was impossible to say what injury he might not inflict upon the Catholic Church and the Spanish monarchy.
At any price, therefore, the friendship of James must be secured. With that, everything would be possible, even the reduction of England to the Catholic Church. The marriage treaty must be kept on foot. No doubt James had refused to concede religious liberty, on the plea that the consent of Parliament was needed, but this was a mere excuse. Why could not James change the religion of England as easily as his predecessors had done? The truth was, that he was a heretic at heart, and was afraid of any increase in the numbers of the English Catholics.[451]
In penning the memoir in which he thus sketched out the future James’s formal offer of mediation.policy of his Government, Gondomar had before him a letter which had been written by Buckingham to Cottington, at James’s instigation, in order that <284>it might be placed in the hands of the Spanish secretary, Ciriza.
In this letter Cottington was ordered to assure the King of Spain that James had left unanswered the repeated applications of the Bohemians for assistance, partly because he expected to be called upon to mediate, and partly because, as yet, he had only heard one side of the question. He wished, therefore, that Philip would procure for him the Emperor’s answer to their complaints. He hoped that, to give time for negotiation, a cessation of arms would be accorded, and that Matthias would give security that, upon receiving the submission of the Bohemians, he would leave them in the enjoyment of the free exercise of their religion.[452]
Even at this distance of time, it is scarcely possible to read Gondomar’s comments upon this letter without a smile. He believed, Gondomar’s comments.he said, that the King of England meant well, and that he was desirous of maintaining peace. It was only from vanity that he desired to have a hand in the affairs of Germany. In the end, he would be sure to attach himself to whichever of the two parties proved the strongest. It would be well, therefore, to accept his offer of mediation. It could do nobody any harm, and it might do good; for James might learn by it to be ashamed of himself, and to use his influence on the Emperor’s behalf. Ciriza had better accept the offer, taking care to treat it as if it had been a simple proposal to assist in reducing the Bohemians to obedience. At the same time, he might promise that the Spanish ambassador at Vienna would do everything in his power to facilitate the offered mediation.[453]
Accordingly, on January 22, a formal letter, embodying Gondomar’s suggestions, was written The English mediation accepted by Spain.to Cottington by Ciriza.[454] At last Philip’s hands were free. On the 24th, two days after his acceptance of the English mediation, he wrote to the Archduke Albert at Brussels, telling <285>him that he had now decided upon sending assistance to the Emperor;[455] and, on February 1, he sent word to Matthias that he was ready to make over to him a large sum of money, adding that, if that were not sufficient, troops should follow.[456] To make sure that James should not break through the net in which he had entangled himself, it was decided that Gondomar should return to England to complete the work which had been so successfully begun.[457]
For the moment, the alliance of James was equally courted by all parties. Whilst Cottington was waiting at Madrid for January.Dohna’s embassy to England.the answer of the Spanish Government, Baron Christopher Dohna arrived in England on a special mission from the Elector Palatine.[458] Ostensibly he came to ask James to renew the defensive treaty with the Union, which was shortly about to expire. But his main object was to sound the King of England, in order to discover whether he was likely to give his aid to the wild schemes which had been suggested by the Duke of Savoy.
To the renewal of the treaty with the Union, James made no objection whatever.[459] But when Dohna began to hint, in cautious terms, at the possibility that upon the death of Matthias the Bohemians would proceed to elect his master in the place of Ferdinand, James cut him short at once. In the case of a legal election, he said, he would do his best to support his son-in-law. But he would not hear of any aggression upon the rights of others. “There are some of the Princes of Germany,” he said, “who wish for war, in order that they may aggrandise themselves. Your master is young, and I am old. Let him follow my example.” He then proceeded to quote from Virgil the lines in which the aged Latinus is represented as warning Turnus that his impetuous valour <286>needed to be balanced by his own sober judgment.[460] He subsequently sent a message to Dohna, requesting him not to forget that, if the Princes of the Union made an attack upon their neighbours, they must expect no assistance from him. He would give no help to those who were exciting the subjects of other sovereigns to revolt. Yet, within the limits of defensive warfare, he would do his best to maintain their independence. He had, unfortunately, no money to send them at present; but he would ask the Dutch to give enough to support two thousand men for a few months.[461]
If James could not give a very satisfactory reason for the advice which he offered, at least the advice was good in itself. It is true that Character of James’s advice.the technical illegality of the Revolution at Prague was a very insufficient ground for deserting the Bohemians, but the feeling which that illegality had called forth was an important element in the decision to be taken. Frederick and those who surrounded him had contrived to inspire their neighbours with a belief that they had nothing to contribute to the solution of a most complicated political problem except violence and intrigue; and unless they could change their nature, there was little that England could do to help them.
At the very time at which Dohna was transmitting this unwelcome intelligence to his master, James was giving signs that 1618.The Spanish armaments.his words were not uttered as a mere subterfuge for the sake of avoiding war at any cost. For some time he had been receiving information from Cottington, that great naval preparations were being made in every port in the Spanish Empire. From Dunkirk to Barcelona the arsenals and dockyards were ringing with the equipment of a powerful fleet. It was said that the ships were to rendezvous in April <287>on the coast of Sardinia, where they were to take on board a force of no less than forty thousand soldiers. Cottington was told that the armament was intended for an attack upon Algiers; and, if official documents are to be trusted, such was in reality the intention of the Spanish Government. A blow struck against the pirates at once, would obviate the necessity of admitting the hated co-operation of an English fleet in the Mediterranean.[462]
Such an explanation, however, would hardly be satisfactory to those who had most to fear from any fresh development of the power of Spain. Alarm of the Venetians.The Venetians believed that the attack was in reality directed against themselves. During the whole of the past year they had been living in constant dread of Spain. The Spanish Viceroy of Naples had been carrying on hostilities against them on his own account; and a terrible conspiracy, which had been foiled by a timely discovery, was universally attributed to the instigations of the Spanish ambassador, Bedmar. It was reported to the Council of Ten, that as Gondomar was leaving England he had concluded a conversation with Sir Henry Mainwaring, the Lieutenant of Dover Castle, with the significant words:— “It will not be long before Spanish is spoken at Venice.”[463]
These words may have been mere bravado; but the Republic was alarmed, and its ambassador was directed to ask James for assistance. The real object of the Spanish fleet, it was believed at Venice, was to seize the city itself, or some point upon the Venetian coast which might be made the basis of operations against Bohemia.
James was at once aroused. That Spain should assist the Emperor against his revolted subjects 1619.January.Naval preparations in England.was well enough; but an attack upon Venice would be a gross violation of public law. A courier was at once despatched to Cottington, directing him to interrogate Philip as to <288>his intentions. Nor were James’s remonstrances confined to words. On the pretext of reviving his own preparations against the pirates, he ordered Buckingham, who had just been raised to the direction of the Admiralty, to get ready six ships of the royal navy for immediate service. Fourteen more were to be equipped by the merchants, and orders were given to the City companies to pay the 40,000l. which had been assessed upon them.[464] A few days later it was determined that the old tax of ship-money should once more be levied at the other ports; and the magistrates were accordingly directed to make up the sum of 8,550l. amongst them.[465] At the same time the lords-lieutenants of the counties were directed to see that the trained bands were in a good state of discipline, and that the beacons on the coast were ready for use.[466]
The next step was to ask for the co-operation of the Dutch. James’s plan was that the two fleets February.The Dutch asked to cooperate.should pass the Straits of Gibraltar together, and <289>should offer their combined assistance to the Spanish admiral in his projected attack upon Algiers. They would thus be in a position to oppose him with superior force, if it proved that the hostilities against the pirates were only a cover for an attack upon Venice, or even, as was whispered in England, for an attack upon Ireland.[467]
By taking timely precautions against danger, James, for once, found his policy crowned with success. Before the Dutch had Suspension of the Spanish preparations.time to express their objections to the plan, news arrived that the Spanish preparations had been suspended, and that all danger was at an end.[468] It is indeed possible that James’s singular display of energy may have had some connexion with his displeasure at the want of interest shown in Spain on the subject of the marriage treaty. For some weeks he had been complaining that, though he had long ago stated his terms, Philip had taken no pains to discover whether the Pope was likely to be satisfied. On January 31 a courier The King of Spain sends to Rome for a dispensation.arrived from Madrid with the news that a person had already been despatched to Rome to ask for the dispensation.[469] Taking it for granted that the Spaniards wished to do all that friendship might suggest, James now selected an ambassador for the important mission to Bohemia. February.Doncaster appointed to the Bohemian embassy.His choice first fell upon Wotton, but the appointment was almost immediately cancelled in favour of Doncaster. The selection of the man who, as Lord Hay, had unwillingly broken off the French treaty, and whose sympathies as a Scotchman were all on the side of France, was nevertheless spoken of as highly satisfactory by the agents of the Spanish Government. The explanation probably is that Doncaster, who was apt to echo the sentiments of those with whom he lived, had for the time taken his cue from James and Buckingham. <290>It was his opinion, he said, that Gondomar had gained more for his master in England by his courtesy than the most famous captain could have gained by his sword. The words were true, but the man who uttered them with complacent satisfaction had no very high political sagacity of which to boast.[470]
If, indeed, the work of mediation had been what James supposed, a mere arbitration between two parties who would only be too happy to see their quarrels decided by the sentence of an English ambassador, Doncaster’s courtesy and ready tact would have stood him in good stead. As it was, there was nothing to be hoped from his mission. What James needed was a shrewd, impartial spectator, who would penetrate the real intentions of the various parties in the Empire, and who might have been able to put into some practical shape the good intentions of his master. But to the power of divining the truth which is obscured by jarring passions, Doncaster March.could make no pretensions. He was sure to throw himself at once into the arms of Frederick and his ministers. He would see with the eyes, and think with the thoughts, of the Court of Heidelberg. Even if he had any idea of impartiality when he landed at Calais, he would be a thorough partisan long before he left the Palatinate.
The new ambassador’s departure was delayed Death of the Emperor Matthias.for some time by the news which reached England of the death of the Emperor Matthias.
In Bohemia the death of the Emperor hurried on a crisis which had long been foreseen. Ferdinand at once notified Its consequences in Bohemia;his accession to those whom he still treated as his subjects, and offered to confirm all their privileges, including the royal charter itself. But the Directors had gone too far to retreat. They did not even vouchsafe a reply to this overture. Though the word dethronement had not yet been formally uttered, it was plain that nothing less would satisfy the revolutionary leaders. The proposed mediation of the four princes fell at once to the ground.
<291>To the Empire, the death of Matthias, whilst the Bohemian dispute was still undecided, was of even greater moment. and in the Empire.The coming election had long been looked forward to as a time at which the vexed questions by which Germany was distracted might at last be settled. Few, if any, doubted that Ferdinand, as he was secure of the three Ecclesiastical votes, as well as of that of the kingdom of Bohemia, would carry the day. If it had been possible to find a candidate to oppose to him with any reasonable probability of success, the Protestants would no doubt have been wise in voting against him. But, as this was not the case, there was nothing left but to accept the unwelcome necessity, and to be content with imposing reasonable conditions on Ferdinand.
Nor would this be by any means an unsatisfactory result. If only Dresden and Heidelberg were united in their demands, not even when clothed with the whole of the Imperial prerogatives would Ferdinand be strong enough to resist them.
For the growing variance between the two great divisions of Protestant Germany, John George and Frederick were alike answerable. Position of the Elector of Saxony.If the Elector of Saxony took the common-sense view of the case, and preferred to treat with Ferdinand rather than to oppose him, he roused opposition in those whom he ought to have conciliated by the contemptuous indifference with which he regarded the wishes and fears of his brother Elector.
On the other hand, Frederick was doing everything in his power to alienate all who dreaded anarchy. At one time Frederick’s intrigues.he had attempted in vain to induce the politic Maximilian of Bavaria to put himself forward as a candidate. He now took up again the thread of his intrigues with the Duke of Savoy.
In January he had sent Mansfeld to Turin to make arrangements for the coming attack upon the House of Austria. As the despatches came in — each one more significant than the last — telling of the great things which Charles Emmanuel was ready to do for the common cause, the Court of Heidelberg was beside itself with joy. “Now,” cried out Christian of Anhalt, “we have in our hands the means of overturning the <292>world.” But when it came to putting these plans upon paper, it was less easy for the contracting parties to come to an agreement. Frederick’s advisers wanted the Duke to send them large sums of money, and to be content with vague promises for the future. The Duke wanted to make sure of the Bohemian crown, and of his election to the Empire, and to pay as little in ready money as possible. The negotiation therefore broke down completely. In April, one more attempt was made to take up its broken threads, and Christian of Anhalt was himself despatched to Turin to win over, if possible, the wily Charles Emmanuel by dangling before him the Imperial crown, in hopes of inducing him to come to the point, and to concert measures for the contemplated attack upon Bohemia and the Ecclesiastical territories. The envoy found the Duke in a less fiery mood than he expected. If he could sack Genoa with the aid of the German Protestants, as he had hoped two years before to sack it with the aid of Raleigh, it would be well enough. But he held out no hopes that he would allow Frederick to make a tool of him in Germany.[471]
At the same time one of Frederick’s counsellors, De Plessen, was despatched to England to interest James in the scheme.[472] April.De Plessen in London.If James had had any real knowledge of German politics, he would have seen its impracticability at a glance. As it was, he ordered Sir Isaac Wake, his agent with the Duke of Savoy, who happened to be in London at the time, to return to his post. Wake’s mission to Turin.He was to warn Charles Emmanuel of the dangers which he was incurring, but at the same time to assure him of support if he could show that there was a reasonable prospect of success in his candidature for the Imperial crown. Upon his arrival in Turin, Wake was not long in discovering that the Duke, who cared far more about annexing Milan or Genoa to his dominions than he did about the sufferings of the <293>Bohemians, had no wish to allow his name to be used at the election, and that the intrigues from which so much had been expected had at last come to nothing.[473]
In the midst of these political troubles the Queen died. She had long been suffering from dropsy, and, since the King’s Illness of the Queen.return from Scotland in 1617, her condition had been such as to inspire her physicians with grave anxiety.[474] Her illness made her more earnest in the religion which she had always secretly cherished. At Oatlands she had two priests, one of whom said mass daily in her presence. They took advantage of her weakness to refuse to receive her confession, or to administer the communion to her, unless she would abandon her practice of occasionally accompanying her husband to church. Their exhortations took effect, and angry words passed between the King and the Queen. James told Gondomar that his wife had much changed of late. He hardly knew ‘what devil had got into her.’ In her bitterness of heart the Queen spoke against the Spanish marriage, which she had hitherto favoured, merely, as Gondomar thought, to vex her husband.[475] At Easter 1618, James had to go to church without her.[476]
During the remainder of that year the Queen continued in a feeble state, and it was evident to all but herself that she had not long to live. On February 22, 1619, she took to her bed. On March 1, her case was considered hopeless. The King, who was absent from London, was not within reach; but the Prince was summoned to his mother’s bedside at Hampton Court. Before he could arrive, the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Bishop of London were admitted to see her. They were aware of the rumours abroad respecting her religion; and the first words addressed to her by Abbot were intended to be a test of her belief. “Madam,” he said, “we hope your Majesty doth not trust to your own merits, nor to the mediation <294>of saints, but only by the blood and merits of our Saviour Christ Jesus you shall be saved.” “I do,” was the reply, “and withal I renounce the mediation of all saints, and my own merits, and do only rely upon my Saviour, Christ, who has redeemed my soul with his blood.” The Queen’s words were hailed by the bystanders as an acknowledgment that she had abandoned the belief of her maturer years, and had returned to the faith of her childhood.
Even now, the dying woman could not be brought to believe how short was the time before her. When the Prince arrived, she spoke to him a few light words, and ordered him to leave the room. Nor were the bishops allowed to remain. There was not much amiss, she said. Those who were around her bed urged her to make her will. “No,” she replied, “tomorrow will do well enough.” It was March 2.Her death.one in the morning before she was aware that her end was near. She sent again for her son, and, laying her hands on his head, gave him her blessing. The lords in attendance brought in her will, but she was unable to sign it. She said that she left everything to the Prince, and that she hoped that he would reward her servants. The Bishop of London prayed with her. “Madam,” he said at last, when her speech had failed, “make a sign that your Majesty is one with your God, and longs to be with Him.” She held up one of her hands, and when that was exhausted she raised the other, till that, too, sank down. In a few minutes she was no more.[477]
The Queen’s death was of no political importance. Her character was too impulsive to give her much influence with her husband, and Her character.she seldom attempted to employ it with any settled and deliberate purpose. Her real sphere was the banquet and the masque. Those who had been acquainted with her in the midst of the festivities of her court continued to speak of her with kindness. But by the mass of the nation she was as completely forgotten as though she had never lived.
James had not been with his wife during her last illness. <295>He had taken leave of her on February 6, and had gone down Illness of the King.to Newmarket to enjoy himself. Whilst there, he was taken ill. In the beginning of March he thought himself well enough to go out to see a horse-race; but he was unable to remain on the ground. For some days it was thought that he was dying. He sent for his son and the principal lords, that they might receive his last commands. To the Prince he recommended, as specially faithful, Lennox, Buckingham, and Digby, and spoke at length of the advantages of the Spanish marriage.[478] A few days afterwards he began to recover, and by the middle of April he was well enough to be removed to Theobalds in a litter. The first thing he did on his arrival was to order the deer to be driven before his chair, so that, though he was too weak to mount his horse, he might enjoy the pleasures of the chase in imagination.[479] As soon as he was able to move about, some one told him that the best cure for the weakness of the legs, from which he was still suffering, was the warm blood of a newly-killed deer. For some weeks, therefore, as soon as the hunt was over, he was to be found with his feet buried in the carcass of the animal which had just been pulled down by the dogs.[480]
James does not appear to have felt his wife’s death very deeply. During his illness, he had penned in her remembrance His verses on the Queen’s death.a few lines, in which, characteristically enough, his appreciation of the almost divine splendour of Royalty left him no room for a single word to express any personal grief for his loss. A great comet had lately appeared in the sky, and this, too, he pressed into the service of the English Monarchy:—
“Thee to invite the great God sent His star,Whose friends and nearest kin good princes are,<296>Who, though they run the race of men and die,Death serves but to refine their majesty.So did my Queen from hence her court remove.And left off earth to be enthroned above.She’s changed, not dead, for sure no good prince dies,But, as the sun sets, only for to rise.”[481]
On June 1, James made his entry into London for the first time since his illness. He was still popular with his subjects. When, The King’s visit to London.at the first news of his recovery, the Bishop of London had appeared at Paul’s Cross to return thanks for his preservation, a greater crowd than had been seen for many years had gathered round him to express their joy.[482] Whatever the King’s faults may have been, men were unwilling to exchange their well-meaning Sovereign for the uncertainties of the future. They now flocked to see him ride once more in his accustomed state. He was dressed in gay colours, and looked, as one who saw him said, more like a wooer than a mourner.
It would have been strange if this day of rejoicing had been allowed to pass without some exhibition of the King’s weakness for his favourite. Marriage proposed for Christopher Villiers.Lady Buckingham had now set her heart upon providing, by a wealthy marriage, for her youngest son Christopher in the way that she had already provided for her eldest son John. But it was difficult to find a lady at once rich enough to command a choice of suitors, and willing to condemn herself to pass the rest of her life with the unattractive and unintelligent lad. Siege had first been laid to the widow of the eldest son of the Earl of Suffolk. But the lady had laughed at the youth’s presumption, and had given her hand to Sir William Cavendish.[483] Lady Buckingham turned to the City. The Lord Mayor, Sir Sebastian Harvey, had an only child, a girl of fourteen. It was known that his property was worth at least 100,000l.[484] Again the honour of the alliance was declined. The King was easily <297>induced to interfere. Message after message was sent by James to the reluctant citizen. But the course which had proved so successful with Coke failed utterly with Harvey. His child, he said, was too young to marry yet. James was highly displeased, and, as he rode into London, his first thought was to rate the Lord Mayor soundly. But the Lord Mayor was not to be seen. The old man was lying sick at home, worn out by the importunity which he had found it so difficult to resist.[485] Six weeks afterwards James suddenly appeared at the Mansion House, and used all his eloquence with the father of the heiress. Harvey, who needed neither place nor pension, remained unconvinced, and Christopher Villiers did not succeed in finding a wife for many years to come.
Lady Hatton had proved equally obdurate in her refusal to make over her Dorsetshire property to Sir John Villiers. Sir John Villiers raised to the peerage.James was obliged to console him with a peerage. The new Viscount Purbeck took his title from the very lands which his mother-in-law had refused him.
In passing through London, after his recovery, James remained a single night at Whitehall. No doubt he found time to look at The new Whitehall.the works which had been commenced under Inigo Jones. In 1606, a stately banqueting-house had been erected in the place of the old one in which Elizabeth had kept state. The new building had just been burnt down, and James, whose designs had risen with his fortunes, now thought of nothing less than of replacing the whole palace by a splendid pile which would be worthy of his exalted dignity.
The banqueting-house, which still remains to look down in fragmentary solitude upon the busy throng, was all that was ever completed of this magnificent scheme. Few buildings have been more closely associated with events which have left their impress upon the history of our country. From one of its windows Charles I. stepped upon the scaffold. It witnessed the orgies of the second Charles, and the intrigues of the second James. Within its walls the crown, forfeited by <298>the last of the Stuart kings, was offered to William of Orange. From that day its glory was at an end. The new Sovereign turned away from a spot in which his health would not suffer him to live; and the deserted building remained to be as completely a monument of the past as the wilderness of brick which attracts the gay and thoughtless crowd of sightseers to Versailles.
Yet, if stones can speak, it is of James I., rather than of his successors, that the tall pile declares itself to be a monument. It is the fitting memorial of a king whose whole life was unfinished; who never either counted the cost of his undertakings, or put forth the energy which was needed to overcome the difficulties in his way. Nor was the long array of columns, which were to have arisen in marshalled ranks in the place of the irregular and loosely planned palace of the Tudors, an unsuitable emblem of the ideas of ordered government which floated before his mind, and which he vainly hoped to substitute for the uncouth but living forms of the Elizabethan constitution.
The banqueting-house at Whitehall marks the culminating point of James’s life. He had just completed a thorough reform of the administration. Prosperity of James.He had effected considerable economy in his expenditure. He had crushed the last semblance of independence amongst the officers of state. He was bringing to terms the great commercial Company of the Netherlands in the East, and he was sending out a new Governor, who would doubtless put an end to to the difficulties of the Virginian colony in the West. Spain and France were bidding against one another for his alliance, and his own people had thronged in multitudes to St. Paul’s to give thanks to God for his recovery from sickness.
That the cloud had already risen in Germany which was to overshadow this brilliant prospect, was as yet unthought of by The great comet.the vast majority of James’s subjects. Everything rather than this rose before their minds as they tried to peer into futurity in search of the evil to come. In the preceding November, all England had been startled by the appearance of that comet of astonishing brilliancy, to which <299>James had made reference in the verses which he had written on his wife’s death. For some weeks the rich and the poor, the learned and the ignorant, were asking one another what it could possibly portend. The fate of the great man who had so recently perished on the scaffold in Palace Yard was almost forgotten in the general excitement. The comet, men said, had something to do with the fall of Barneveld. It might be a warning against the Spanish match, and the design which James was supposed to entertain for the overthrow of the Protestant religion. Perhaps some great disaster — famine, plague, or war — was to be expected. It had come to herald the funeral of the Queen, or to proclaim the death of the King himself.[486] The name of Prague was never mentioned with anxiety. Yet the conflagration which was to involve all Europe in its flames, and which was incidentally to ruin James’s pretensions to statesmanship, had been for many months raging in Bohemia.
“Bella gerant alii, tu felix Austria nube:Nam quæ Mars aliis, dat tibi regna Venus.”
[426] Those who wish to know what crimes a great man in Bohemia might be guilty of without punishment, should read the story of Rudolph’s natural son, Julius, as told by Gindely, Rudolf II., ii. 337. It is only superficially that the cause of the Estates of Bohemia against Ferdinand resembled the cause of the English Parliament against Charles I.
[427] See the remarks of Gindely, Geschichte der Ertheilung des Böhmischen Majestätsbriefes, 116.
[428] On this subject Professor Gindely (Rudolf II., i. 354) has retracted his former opinion, and now cites the evidence of Slawata to the effect that the agreement consequent upon the royal charter was understood at the time to leave the ecclesiastical domains in the same position as those held by the King, and consequently open to Protestant worship. From this he deduces the conclusion that the Protestants were at least technically in the right. But though the Catholics who assented to this agreement are put out of court, it does not follow that Matthias, who was not king at the time, had not a sustainable case in arguing that he was not bound to travel beyond the four corners of the law. If a strictly legal interpretation did not make the Bishops’ lands equivalent to Crown lands, he might well hold that he had nothing to do with the views of the individuals who composed the Diet. The whole case turns upon the interpretation of an agreement which had the force of law. That the royal charter itself favoured the case of the Protestants is a pure delusion.
[429] An exhaustive examination of this point, with a full account of the debates in this Diet, will be found in Professor Gindely’s paper in the Proceedings of the Historical and Philosophical Class of the Vienna Academy for 1859.
[430] “So lange,” he wrote to his sister in 1597, “die Prädicanten walten, ist nichts als Aufruhr und Unrath zu erwarten, wie man es da, wo sie geduldet werden, täglich erfahren kann.” Quoted from the MS. at Vienna by Hurter. Geschichte Ferdinands II., iii. 410. In his will drawn up in 1621, he charges the guardians of his son to banish from the land all heretical doctrines. “Woraus Ungehorsam und Schwierigkeit der Unterthanen entspringt.”
[431] Legitime certantibus.
[432] This letter is quoted in the First Apology of the Bohemians.
[433] In the revolution which tore the greater part of his dominions from Rudolph, the Moravian towns, Protestant as they were, hung back. So, too, we shall see the German towns long continuing Imperialist in the ensuing war.
[434] Breyer, Geschichte des 30 Jährigen Kriegs, 120. A continuation of Wolf’s Maximilian I., and frequently quoted under that writer’s name.
[435] Equivalent to 25,000l. English money.
[436] Oñate to Philip III., Sept. 14⁄24, 1618, Simancas MSS. 2503, fol. 148. Despatch of Khevenhüller, cited by Hurter, Geschichte Ferdinands II., vii. 334.
[437] It is a source of great confusion whenever it is assumed that the view taken of the relation between the Emperor and the Empire at this time was the same as that taken in the eighteenth century, though it is true that the ideas of the Palatine party were manifestly tending that way, if they had not already reached the point afterwards gained.
[438] Wake to the King, July 13, Letters and other documents illustrating the relations between England and Germany at the commencement of the Thirty Years’ War, 4. This collection, edited by me for the Camden Society, will be quoted as Letters and Documents.
[439] Londorp, Acta Publica, iii. 596–621. I suppose the portions of Austria referred to are the scattered territories in Swabia.
[440] Lafuente, Historia de España, xv. 481. Compare the notices in the Relazioni Venete. Spagna.
[441] Cottington to Lake, June 25, 1618, Letters and Documents, 3.
[442] Naunton’s Notes, Sept. 10, 1618, ibid. 13.
[443] Commonly known in England as the Padre Maestro, which is something like calling a man “His Reverence” as a proper name.
[444] Lafuente to Philip III. Oct. 2⁄12 Lafuente to Gondomar, Oct. 2⁄12, Madrid Palace Library.
[445] Cottington to Naunton, Sept. 17. Buckingham to Gondomar, Sept. 30, 1618, ibid., 9, 13.
[447] Lafuente to Philip III. Dec. 10⁄20, Madrid Palace Library.
[448] Lafuente to Philip III. Dec. 11⁄21, ibid.
[449] Venetian despatch from Paris, Nov. 19⁄29. Quoted by Cousin, Journal des Savans, 1861, p. 278. Lafuente to Philip III. Dec. 31⁄Jan. 10, Madrid Palace Library. Consulta by Gondomar, Jan. 4⁄14, Add. MSS. 14,015, fol. 80.
[450] Lafuente to Gondomar, Nov. 19⁄29; Lafuente to Philip III. Jan. 7⁄17, Madrid Palace Library.
[451] Consulta by Gondomar and Aliaga, Jan. 3⁄13, 1619, Simancas MSS. 2518, fol. 42. The two formed a junta for English affairs, but the paper is evidently Gondomar’s production.
[452] Buckingham to Cottington, Nov. (?), 1618, Letters and Documents, 21.
[453] Consulta by Gondomar, Jan. 4⁄14, 1619, ibid. 27.
[454] Ciriza to Cottington, Jan. 22⁄Feb. 1, 1619, ibid. 36.
[455] Philip III. to Archduke Albert, Jan. 24⁄Feb. 3, 1619, Brussels MSS.
[456] Khevenhüller, ix. 333.
[457] Consulta of the Council of State, Feb. 13⁄23, March 12⁄22, 1619, Simancas MSS. 2518, 2515.
[458] Voigt in Raumer’s Historisches Taschenbuch, 1853, 127.
[459] The new treaty was signed Jan. 17, and ratified May 6, 1619. Rymer, xvii. 160.
“O præstans animi juvenis, quantum ipse ferociVirtute exsuperas, tanto me impensius æquum estProspicere, atque omnes volventem expendere casus.” — Æn. xii. 19.
The words in italics were substituted by James or Dohna for consulere and metuentem.
[461] Naunton to Carleton, Jan. 21. The King to the Elector Palatine, July 4, 1619, Letters and Documents, 32, 152.
[462] Cottington to Naunton, Dec. 3; Cottington to Lake, Dec. 4, 1618, S. P. Spain. There is a bundle of papers at Simancas, relating to “the secret expedition,” as it is called.
[463] Information given to the Council of Ten, Nov. 30⁄Dec. 10, 1618, Venice MSS. Communicazioni del Cons., di. x.
[464] The Council to Sir T. Smith, Jan. 17, 1619, Council Register. Lorkin to Puckering, Feb. 9; Feb. (?), 1619, Harl. MSS. 7002, fol. 442, 430. Carleton to Naunton, Jan. 25, 30. Naunton to Carleton, Jan. 27, Feb. 4, 1619, S. P. Holland. The Dutch Commissioners to the States-General, Jan. 23, 30⁄Feb. 2, 9, 1619, Add. MSS. 17,677 I., fol. 380–386. Donato to the Doge, Feb. Feb. 4, 11⁄14, 21, 1619, Venice MSS. Salvetti’s News-Letter, Jan. 21⁄31, Jan. 28⁄Feb. 7, 1619. See p. 70.
[465] The Council to the Mayors and Bailiffs of the Port Towns, Feb. 7, 1619, Council Register. The sums assessed are interesting, as showing the relative importance of the towns. London, it must be remembered, paid 40,000l.
Bristol | 2,500 |
Exeter | 1,000 |
Plymouth | 1,000 |
Dartmouth | 1,000 |
Barnstable | 500 |
Hull | 500 |
Weymouth | 450 |
Southampton | 300 |
Newcastle | 300 |
The Cinque Ports | 200 |
Yarmouth | 200 |
Ipswich | 150 |
Colchester | 150 |
Poole | 100 |
Chester | 100 |
Lyme | 100 |
Total | 8,550 |
[466] The Council to the Lords-Lieutenants, &c. Feb. 11, 1619, Council Register.
[467] The Dutch Commissioners to the States-General, Feb. 4⁄14, Add. MSS. 17,677 I. fol. 389.
[468] Proposition of the Dutch Commissioners, March 5, S. P. Holland. Donato to the Doge, Feb. 11, 18⁄21, 28, Venice MSS.
[469] Lafuente to Philip III., Feb. 8⁄18, Madrid Palace Library.
[470] Lafuente to Philip III.; Lafuente to Gondomar, Feb. 28⁄March 10, Madrid Palace Library.
[471] Compare with the original letters in Londorp, iii. 598; Uetterodt, Ernst Graf zu Mansfeld, 192; Reuss, Graf Ernst von Mansfeld im Böhmischen Kriege, 35; Villermont, Ernest de Mansfeld, i. 108.
[472] The Dutch Commissioners to the States-General, May 1⁄11, 1619, Add. MSS. 17,677 I. fol. 48.
[473] Wake to Buckingham, June 5, 1619, Letters and Documents, 107.
[474] Chamberlain to Carleton, Oct. 25, 1617, S. P. Dom. xciii. 140.
[475] Gondomar to Philip III., Oct. 12⁄22, Dec. 20⁄30, 1617, Madrid Palace Library.
[476] News-Letter, 1618, Roman Transcripts, R. O.
[477] ——— to ———, Abbotsford Club Miscellany, 81.
[478] Lovelace to Carleton, Feb. 24. Chamberlain to Carleton, March 6, April 10. Harwood to Carleton, April 4. S. P. Dom. cv. 132; cvii. 6; cviii. 15, 33. Lafuente to Philip III., April 1⁄11, Madrid Palace Library.
[479] Chamberlain to Carleton, March 27, April 24. S. P. Dom. cvii. 54; cviii. 69.
[480] Chamberlain to Carleton, June 26. S. P. Dom. cix. 113.
[481] S. P. Dom. Imperfect MSS. No. 2. fol. 27.
[482] Chamberlain to Carleton, April 17, S. P. Dom. cviii. 51.
[483] Lorkin to Puckering, July 14, 1618, Harl. MSS. 7002, fol. 414.
[484] Salvetti’s News-Letter, July 16⁄26, 1619.
[485] Lorkin to Puckering, May 24, Harl. MSS. 7002, fol. 476. Chamberlain to Carleton, May 31, June 5, S. P. Dom. cix. 61, 75.
[486] Corbet’s Poetical Epistle.