by Неизвестный
The Spanish were split on the issue. The Council of State was quite willing to allow the marriage to proceed, even without any assurance from James. But Philip’s theological advisers, along with Olivares, demanded proof of sincere change on the part of the English King before any marriage could take place – and Olivares had no realistic expectation that the change could or would take place. From a good start, relations deteriorated between Olivares and Buckingham, as the latter believed that it was his opposite number who was blocking the process.23 It could be argued that Buckingham was scarcely more cooperative: when the papal nuncio informed the Duke that he could not look beyond his orders from Rome, Buckingham retorted ‘I assure you that if this marriage is not concluded, what little remains of Catholicism in that kingdom [England] will be utterly rooted out, and they will proceed against the Catholics with the utmost rigour.’24 To Buckingham’s eyes, the only way to negotiate in future was, he declared, with a sword drawn over the heads of the papists.25 At the same time, Charles, though still enamoured of the Infanta, was having second thoughts. His conscience was piqued by the plight of his sister Elizabeth, who was said to be ‘in a pitiful case, almost distracted’ at news of the possibility of her brother marrying the Infanta. In early May, Charles sent word to Elizabeth that he would not consent to marry without first obtaining her permission. In Madrid, he tried to bring the Palatinate question into the negotiations, but Philip refused to consider the question until after the marriage – once that were done, Frederick ‘should be restored to all without any treaty – to lands, honours, and dignities’.26
Still the negotiations continued. According to Olivares, Charles had two options. Either he could send an agent to the Pope asking him to modify the articles, or send a messenger to James pleading with him to agree to the Pope’s terms. Neither appealed to Charles. Buckling under the Duke’s persuasions, he announced that he would go home, and fixed 13 May as his departure date. Buckingham told Father Francisco de Jesus that the Prince was experiencing a ‘great sinking at the heart’ at this unhappy conclusion, and that they were ‘much dissatisfied at having to go away after … failing to obtain that which they had hitherto looked forward to as sure and certain’. Although Buckingham insisted that he and the Prince ‘wished that there might be no change in the friendship between them’ he was clearly angry. Francisco recorded that the Duke ‘looked upon all plain dealing as an injury to himself’. But negotiations were not at an end. Gondomar rushed to beg Charles on Philip’s behalf ‘to be so good as to refrain from taking any resolution in opposition to the plans which had been proposed’. Charles reluctantly agreed, and a secret messenger was sent to inform James of the latest complications. (Charles changed his mind a few days later, and sent Cottington to ask Olivares if he might be discharged from his promise to stay, but Philip refused.)27
While in Spanish eyes Buckingham was a resented obstacle, to many Englishmen that position was utterly laudable. Sir Henry Rich, Viscount Kensington, praised Buckingham as ‘so brave, so judicious and religious as not only his master has reason to put honour upon him, but also our nation hath cause to reverence and admire him, so careful hath he been to serve, and nobly to serve, his King and country with offices of a true and religious heart, giving way to nothing but what wisdom and honour directs him’. The Duke’s stand had lost him favour at the Spanish court precisely because ‘those great and powerful persons here … would have pressed unfit and unlooked-for conditions upon us’. Sir George Goring declared that Buckingham had given ‘such proof of his courage, judgement, religion and true English heart, with such resolution of stability in all these, as the like, I believe, were never met with in any one person’.28 Capitalising on Buckingham’s dislike of James’s resident ambassador Bristol, whom he considered dangerously ‘hispaniolized’, they suggested that the Duke return to England, and leave the resident ambassador to negotiate; that manoeuvre was effectively countered by James, who sent a message saying that Bristol should leave all negotiation to Buckingham.29 But by June, Buckingham’s intransigence had begun to annoy even Charles. According to the Venetian ambassador in Madrid, the Prince ‘blamed the Duke for harshness in his methods’, and Buckingham was forced to soften his tone and allow Bristol back into the negotiations. Charles, it was rumoured, was growing increasingly dissatisfied by what he perceived as Buckingham’s lack of respect for him.30
Cottington was despatched back to England with the unwelcome news that negotiations were at an impasse, and that the ‘sweet boys’ would not be coming home soon. James received the news on 14 June at Greenwich; for the first time, his emotions overflowed: ‘Your letter by Cottington hath strucken me dead. I fear it shall very much shorten my days.’ How could he satisfy ‘the people’s expection here’? How would he explain to the Privy Council that the fleet, already delayed a fortnight by ill winds, now had to be held back longer. As for ‘advice and directions’, he was clear: if ‘they will not alter their decree it is, in a word, to come speedily away if ye can get leave, and give over all treaty’ whatever is offered. If not,
ye never look to see your old dad again, whom I fear ye shall never see, if ye see him not before winter. Alas, I now repent me sore that ever I suffered you to go away. I care for match nor nothing, so I may once have you in my arms again. God grant it! God grant it! God grant it! Amen, amen, amen. I protest ye shall be as heartily welcome as if ye had done all things ye went for, so that I may once have you in my arms again. And so God bless you both, my only sweet son and my only best sweet servant, and let me hear from you quickly with all speed, as ye love my life. And so God send you a happy and joyful meeting in the arms of your dear dad.31
Realising that the Spanish theologians would not be budged and that they had nothing to lose, Buckingham drew up a long letter to Philip, putting Charles’s case in the strongest terms. The marriage must take place soon, he urged. Just by coming to Spain, Charles had made himself vulnerable; now there was the possibility that if he were to depart, and ‘leave his wife behind him in pawn’, his honour would be impugned. The whole affair was a question of trust, and should be resolved through friendship rather than bonds and ‘securities’. Matters had progressed so far that, if Philip insisted on postponing the marriage in this way, Charles would have no alternative but to believe there must exist ‘some disesteem of his person’.32 But the theologians remained adamant. The consummation of the marriage could not happen a single day sooner.
Charles could finally see the writing on the wall. The Spanish clearly intended to stall for as long as possible, and in the meantime he was trapped in Madrid. In late June, he wrote secretly to his father asking for his permission ‘to depart from Madrid as secretly as he came thither’, if Philip refused to give him formal permission to leave. And if this plan didn’t work, he urged James to turn his attention elsewhere: ‘reflect … upon the good of his sister and the safety of his own kingdoms.’33 James was only too happy to provide the permission. At the same time, Buckingham played his last hand with Olivares. Leaking to him a draft of a declaration Charles was supposedly about to make to Philip, Buckingham let Olivares know that it contained a complaint against Olivares, who had originally assured Charles that, if the Pope were not willing to give the Infanta as a wife, Philip would give her to him as a mistress. Now, however, Olivares had changed his mind, and risked ‘the breach of the business of most consequence in Christendom’. Olivares came back promptly with new, final terms from the King: Charles and the Infanta would be betrothed as soon as news was received that James had sworn to accept the amended articles. A formal marriage ceremony would then take place at Christmas, and the Infanta would sail to England when weather permitted the following spring.34
The terms were still unappealing, but Charles agreed to them. It seemed that the negotiations were done. For four nights, Madrid celebrated, and Buckingham wrote to Lord Treasurer Middlesex on 8 July that ‘our business here is at an end, all points concluded’.35 In London, on 20 July, James and the Privy
Council formally swore to the articles of the marriage treaty, although, according to Simonds D’Ewes, hearing the unfavourable terms caused the King to start shaking.36 In the month between Charles’s agreement, and news of James’s swearing reaching Madrid, Buckingham continued to barter around the terms, suggesting that Charles would stay until September if the Infanta then accompanied him back to England; Philip suggested that if Charles stayed until Christmas, the marriage could be consummated before he left. But the theologians blocked each suggestion, and Buckingham fixed on 29 August as a departure date, urging James to send them ‘preemptory commands to come away, and with all possible speed’, just in case they had need of it, and Charles might then ‘press his coming away, under the colour of your command, without appearing an ill lover’.37
There was to be one final red herring. On 12 August, Olivares brought another scenario to the Council of State, proposing that the son of the ex-Elector Frederick (James’s grandson) should marry the Emperor’s daughter, and be raised a Catholic in the imperial court at Vienna. When the Duke of Bavaria died, he could become Elector Palatine, thus restoring title and lands to his father’s family. James, thought Olivares, would be in favour of this, since he would understand the advantages of having Catholic rather than Puritan grandchildren. But Olivares miscalculated. James refused to have any grandchild raised as a Catholic, and insisted that some restoration, albeit token, should be made now to Frederick. Charles took up his brother-in-law’s cause with Olivares, urging first the restoration of the Palatinate, which Olivares refused, and then an assurance that – as had been promised to Bristol – Spain would allow its troops to join with English soldiers to clear the Palatinate and restore it. When Olivares made it clear that Spain would under no circumstances agree to bear arms against any Hapsburg, Charles became angry. He later claimed to have told the Spanish minister that ‘if you hold yourself to that, there is an end of all; for without this you may not rely upon either marriage or friendship’.38 This outburst may well be an invention of hindsight, however, since Charles appears to have spent most of August still furthering his marriage plans. On one occasion he was said to have leapt over a garden wall the better to see his Infanta; and the Venetian ambassador wrote of how the Prince ‘longingly expecteth the nuptial day when the business so long in treaty is to be consummated in the bed’.39
It was time to go. Now their departure was delayed only by Buckingham’s illness, a fever which had left him weak and unable to walk. To James, though, he maintained his good spirits: ‘Sir, my heart and very soul dances for joy, for the change will be no less than to leap from trouble to ease, from sadness to mirth – nay, from hell to heaven.’40 On 28 August 1623, first Charles and Philip, and then their chief ministers, swore solemnly that they would see through the articles of the marriage treaty. Buckingham swore a particular oath that he would refrain from executing any law against an English Roman Catholic. Charles put his signature to a document authorising his marriage by proxy when the papal dispensation arrived, an arrangement that would expire at Christmas. And then, after the ritual exchange of gifts, the Prince and the favourite finally started on their journey home, travelling from Madrid to the Escorial palace, and then on via Segovia to Santander. One final piece of business occurred on this journey. Charles sent Buckingham’s man Edward Clerke back to Madrid, ordering him to stay in Bristol’s household until the papal dispensation arrived. At that moment, he would produce an undated letter from Charles instructing Bristol not to proceed with the proxy marriage until another condition was met: a promise that the Infanta would not carry out her oft-mentioned threat to go into a convent. While not rescinding his oath, it would buy time, and perhaps allow negotiations about the Palatinate to reopen (en route, Charles and Buckingham had met Elizabeth’s envoy Sir Francis Nethersole, carrying her plea not to conclude the marriage without new assurances about the future of the Palatinate).41
Sailing from Santander, the English party reached Plymouth harbour on 5 October. Charles, Buckingham and a small party rode to London, attempting to disguise their identities, but once again blowing their cover by paying a tavern bill in Spanish coin.42 Reaching London early on the 6th, they found that the celebrations had already started: 355 bonfires, fireworks, and the roof of St Paul’s decorated with torches, one for each year of the Prince’s life. Leaving York House later in the day to ride to his father at Royston, Charles had to drive his coach up Charing Cross Road rather than through the City because the streets were blocked by bonfires that ‘seemed to turn the City into one flame’.43 John Chamberlain wrote: ‘I have not heard of more demonstrations of public joy than were here and everywhere from the highest to the lowest, such spreading of tables in the streets with all manner of provisions, setting out whole hogsheads of wine and butts of sack, but specially such numbers of bonfires both here and all along as he went, as is almost incredible … At Blackheath there was fourteen load of wood in one fire, and the people were so mad with excess of joy that if they met with any cart loaden with wood they would take out the horses and set cart and all on fire.’ Condemned prisoners on the way to the gallows at Tyburn were reprieved; and in a solemn service at St Paul’s, Psalm 114 became ‘a new anthem’: ‘when Israel came out of Egypt, and the house of Jacob from among the barbarous people.’44
Later that day, Charles and Buckingham reached Royston, As they went up the steps to the King, he was already on his way down; ‘the sweet boys fell to their knees, James fell on their necks and they all wept’.45
CHAPTER TWENTY
Solomon Slept
FOR A WHILE it seemed to be business as usual: ‘The Prince and my Lord of Buckingham spend most of their hours with his Majesty, with the same freedom, liberty and kindness as they were wont.’1 But the signs of dissent soon became evident to court observers. Despite the rapturous public acclaim on his homecoming, Charles was mortified by his failure to bring home the Infanta, and, encouraged by Buckingham, was easily won to the idea that the only honourable course was to go to war against Spain. James, pathologically opposed to war, declared himself convinced, despite all evidence to the contrary, that the Spanish might be trusted. He continued to carry on negotiations with Philip, and during October and November 1623, a succession of not altogether consistent instructions reached an increasingly bewildered Earl of Bristol in Madrid, as James attempted yet again to win assurances about the Palatinate. But then in early November, James fell ill again with gout and retired to Royston and Theobalds, attended by Buckingham. This had happened countless times before, and customarily government business slowed to a trickle until the King’s attention could be gained again. But his experiences in Madrid had given the Prince of Wales a new resolve, and commentators soon observed that in his father’s absence Charles was ‘entering into command of affairs … and all men address themselves unto him’.2
The Prince’s new confidence extended to relations with his father. In late November Charles finally told James in no uncertain terms that the Spaniards had deceived him, and would continue to deceive him if he allowed it. In the account of the Elector Frederick’s ambassador Johan van Rusdorf, James, with tears in his eyes, asked his son, ‘Do you want me to go to war, in my twilight years, and force me to break with Spain?’3 It spelled the end of many cherished dreams for the self-styled Peacemaker. Bowing to insistent pressure from Charles and Buckingham he recalled Bristol from Madrid. Charles and Buckingham knew that the next step to forward their war policy was to turn to Parliament. The Commons had shown their zeal for military intervention in the Parliament of 1621, and now the momentum of the glorious return from Spain should guarantee that their policy would be carried. James raged and called them fools, but they, and he, now realised that he could have little effect on their actions. On 28 December James agreed with great reluctance to call a Parliament. Together, the Prince and the Duke launched a campaign to ensure their success, exploiting their influence to select sympathetic MPs to fill the Commons, and giving lurid accounts of their ti
me in Spain.
As he waited for Parliament to open, James received surprising new proposals via Spain’s ambassador the Marquis de Inojosa, offering to send the Infanta in March and to return the Lower Palatinate by August 1624 and agreeing to all James’s demands concerning military cooperation. Charles and Buckingham were momentarily winded by this unexpected move, but managed to interpret it as a response to their hardline approach, and continued to press ahead with their campaign. They had serious opposition: the Venetian ambassador reported home in cipher that he was afraid that ‘these two young men, without good advisers and without supporting props, may come off badly in opposing the obstinate will of a very crafty King and the powerful arts of the most sagacious Spaniards’.4 But Charles’s new confidence was real, and at the end of January 1624 he informed his father that he would not tolerate any alliance or even agreement of friendship with Spain. James realised that for the first time Charles would not be moved, and decided not to force the issue.
Charles now chaired meetings of the Privy Council while James did as he had done so often – stayed in the country with Buckingham. ‘The balance of affairs leans to the side of the Prince,’ observed the Venetian ambassador; ‘while Buckingham remains at Newmarket to prevent any harm, he stays here [in London] to achieve the good. Thus they both cooperate towards the same end, although with different functions, yet with a good understanding.’ Buckingham watched the King ‘like a sentinel’ and wisely so: ‘at the present moment one may say that he needs watching as closely as the Spaniards themselves, as he is as willing to be deceived as they are to deceive him. They therefore watch him with great jealousy, and as though he were in a state of siege they keep away from him those whom they consider suspect.’5 At the end of January, the Council followed the Prince’s lead, and sent the King the advice that he should break off negotiations with Spain.6