FOOTNOTE:
| James IV. | = | Margaret of England | = | Earl of Angus. |
| James V. | Margaret Countess of Lennox. |
| Mary Queen of Scots. | Henry Lord Darnley. |
CHAPTER XXV.
JAMES I.
1603-1625.
With the death of Elizabeth the greatness of England departed. From 1603 to 1688 she counted for little in the Councils of Europe, save indeed during the ten years of Cromwell's rule. She became the tool of foreign powers, sometimes because her rulers were duped, sometimes because they deliberately sold themselves to the stranger.
Character of James I.
James of Scotland, the old queen's legitimate heir, was a man of thirty-seven when the throne fell to him. He had lived an unhappy life in his northern realm, buffeted to and fro by unruly nobles and domineering ministers of the Scottish Kirk. But most of his troubles had been the results of his own failings. Of all the kings who ever ruled these realms, he is almost the only one of whom it can be said that he was a coward. From this vice sprang his other defects. Like all cowards, he was suspicious, capable of any cruelty against those whom he dreaded, prone always to lean on some stronger man, who would bear his responsibility for him. He chose these favourites with the rankest folly: Arran and Lennox, who were the minions of his youth while yet he reigned in Scotland alone, and Rochester and Buckingham, who ruled his riper age, were—all four—arrogant, vicious, scheming adventurers. They had nothing to recommend them save a handsome person and a fluent and flattering tongue. Each in his turn domineered over his doting master, and made himself a byword for insolence and self-seeking.
James was unfortunate in his outer man. He was ill-made, corpulent, and weak-kneed; though his face was not unpleasing, his speech was marred by a tongue too large for his mouth. But he was grossly and ridiculously vain and conceited. He possessed a certain cleverness of a limited kind, and he was well versed in book-learning. But he imagined that learning was wisdom, and loved to pose as the wisest of mankind—the British Solomon, as his favourites were wont to call him.
This stuttering, shambling pedant now mounted the throne of the politic Elizabeth, and in a reign of twenty-two years contrived to wreck the strong position which the royal power held in England, and to make a revolution inevitable. The crash would have come in his own day, but for one thing—James, as we have said before, was a coward, and had not the courage to fight when affairs came to a crisis.
Doctrine of the dispensing power.
James based his preposterous claims to override the nation's will and the rights of Parliament on two theories, which represented to him the true foundations of all royal power. The first was his "prerogative," or power to dispense with ordinary laws and customs at his good pleasure. He saw that the Tudors had often gone beyond the letter of the mediaeval constitution, and thought that their action gave him a full precedent for similar encroachment. He forgot two things: first, that Henry VIII. and Elizabeth had lived in times of storm and stress, when firm governance was all-important, and much would be forgiven to a strong ruler; and secondly, that the two great Tudors had always taken the people into their confidence, and been careful to get popular support for their doings. He himself tried to impose an unpopular policy on an unwilling people, and never condescended to explain his motives.
The "Divine Right" of kings.
The second pillar of the king's policy was the theory of "divine hereditary kingship"—a notion entirely opposed to the old English idea that the crown was elective. James chose to ignore such precedents as the elections of Henry IV. or Henry VII., where the natural heir had been passed over, and wished his subjects to believe that strict hereditary succession was the only title to the throne, and that nothing could justify or legalize any divergence from it. He claimed that kings derived their right to rule from Heaven, not from any choice by their subjects; hence it was impious as well as disloyal to criticize or disobey the king's commands. James found many of the clergy who were ready to accept this theory, partly because they thought they could justify it from the Scriptures, partly because they felt that the orderly governance of the Anglican Church was bound up with the royal supremacy. In Elizabeth's time it had been the queen's guiding and restraining hand which had prevented the nation from lapsing into the anarchical misgovernment which characterized Continental Protestantism.
Hopes of the three religious parties.
When the new king crossed the Tweed in April, 1603, he was well received in England, where his weaknesses were as yet little known. Every one was glad to see the succession question settled without a war, and every party hoped to gain his favour. The Puritans trusted that a prince reared in the Calvinism of the Scotch Kirk would do much for them. The Romanists dreamed that the son of Mary of Scotland would tolerate his mother's faith. The supporters of the Anglican establishment thought that the king must needs become a good Churchman when he realized the position that awaited him as Defender of the Faith and Supreme Governor of the spiritual hierarchy that embraced nine-tenths of the nation.
James supports the Established Church.
James himself had no doubt as to his future behaviour. There was nothing that pleased him better than the idea of becoming the head of the English Church. In Scotland he had learnt to hate the dictatorial manners of the presbyters of the Kirk, and their constant interference in politics. The well-ordered and obedient organization which he found south of the Tweed, where every cleric, from the archbishop to the curate, looked for guidance to the sovereign, filled him with joy and admiration. He soon became the zealous patron of the Establishment; he looked upon it as the bulwark of the throne, the best defence against disloyalty and anarchy. "No bishop, no king," was his answer to the Puritans, who strove to persuade him into abolishing episcopacy, and establishing a Presbyterian form of Church government.
The Hampton Court Conference.
Before James had been for a year on the English throne, he had shown his intentions in the matter of Church government. On his first arrival the Puritan party, both the Dissenters and the Conformists within the National Church, presented him with the "Millenary Petition," [35] in which they complained that they were "overburdened with human rites and ceremonies" prescribed in the Prayer-book, and besought him to abolish episcopacy and purify the land from the remnants of Popish superstition. James invited representative Puritan ministers to meet him at the Hampton Court Conference (January, 1604), where they were to dispute with some of his bishops. But the Conference was a mere farce; the king browbeat and hectored the ministers, and declared himself wholly convinced by the arguments of the Anglican clergy. He announced his full approval of the existing Church system, and that he would have "one doctrine, one discipline, one religion in substance and ceremony." The Puritans went away in sore displeasure, and from that moment the large number of them who had hitherto continued in the body of the National Church, began to desert it and to form various schismatic sects. We find it hard to-day to realize the fanatical scruples which made them see snares in a ring or a surplice, or deem that Episcopacy was a Romish invention; but we can understand that the real bent of their minds was directed against dictation in matters of conscience, and the denial of the right of private judgment. With their theory we may sympathize, but the actual points on which they chose to secede from the ancient Church of the land were miserably inadequate to justify schism. It is fair to add, however, that there was much to repel men of conscience and piety in the condition of the National Church. The bishops showed an unworthy subservience to the throne, which seemed peculiarly disgusting when the crown was worn by such a self-satisfied pedant as King James. A glance at the fulsome praises heaped upon him in the preface to the Authorized Version of the Bible will sufficiently serve to make this plain.
Administration of the younger Cecil.
Almost the only sign of sagacity which the new king showed was that he kept in office, as his chief minister, Robert, the younger Cecil, son of the great Lord Burleigh. James made him Earl of Salisbury, and, first as Secretary of State and afterwards as Lord Treasurer, Cecil kept a firm hand on the reins of power, and restrained many of his master's follies. It was not till he died, in 1612, that the king was able to display his own unwisdom in its full development.
Cobham's Plot.
Hence it comes that the nine years 1602-1611 are comparatively uneventful, and show little of the king's worst foibles. A few incidents only deserve mention in this period. Cobham's Plot, which followed almost immediately on the king's accession, was a most mysterious business. It was said that Lord Cobham, Lord Grey, Sir Walter Raleigh the explorer, and certain others, all enemies of Robert Cecil, had formed a plot to kidnap the king, and force him to dismiss his minister—perhaps, even to depose him in favour of his cousin, Arabella Stuart, the child of his father's brother. [36] The whole matter is so dark that it is hard to make out what the conspirators desired, or even whether they conspired at all. Both extreme Puritans and fanatical Roman Catholics are said to have been engaged in the plot, and the wildest aims were ascribed to them. It is only certain that James and Cecil used the affair as a means for crushing those whom they feared. The unfortunate Arabella Stuart was put in confinement for the rest of her life; Raleigh languished twelve years in the Tower; and Grey and Cobham also suffered long imprisonment.
The Gunpowder Plot.
A clearer but not less strange matter was the famous Gunpowder Treason of 1605. A band of fanatical Catholics, disgusted that the king refused to grant the toleration they had expected, or to repeal the Recusancy laws, formed a diabolical scheme for murdering, not only James himself, but his sons and all the chief men of the realm. Their chiefs were Thomas Percy, a relative of the Earl of Northumberland, Catesby, Guy Fawkes, and Sir Everard Digby. Their plan was to hire a cellar which lay under the Houses of Parliament, fill it with barrels of gunpowder, and fire the train when the king was opening Parliament on the 5th of November. Lords, Commons, princes, and king would thus perish in a common disaster, while a Catholic rising and a Spanish invasion were to follow. Garnet, the Provincial of the Jesuits, was informed of the scheme by the conspirators, and kept it secret.
A mere chance saved king and Parliament. When all was ready, and the cellar was charged with its murderous contents, one of the conspirators wrote an anonymous letter to his cousin, Lord Monteagle, a Catholic peer, imploring him not to attend on the 5th of November, on account of a great blow that was impending. Monteagle sent the letter to the king, whose suspicious mind—it will be remembered that his own father had perished by gunpowder—soon read the secret. The cellars were searched on the night of November 4, and Guy Fawkes, who was to fire the train, was discovered lurking there with his great hoard of powder. On the news of his arrest the other conspirators took arms, but their preparations had been ridiculously inadequate for their end, and they were easily hunted down and slain. Fawkes and Garnet the Jesuit were tortured, and then hung, drawn, and quartered. The only result of the Gunpowder Treason was to make the lot of the English Romanists much harder than before, for the nation thought that most of them had been implicated in the plot, and Parliament greatly increased the harshness of the Recusancy laws.
Strife between king and Parliament.
The persecuting of Romanists, however, was about the only point on which the king and Parliament could agree. From the very first, James and the House of Commons were at odds on almost every matter which they had to discuss. When peace was made with Spain in 1604, the House was ill pleased; for a whole generation of Englishmen had grown up who looked upon war with King Philip as one of the natural conditions of life, and thought that the Spanish colonies in America existed solely for the purpose of being plundered by English buccaneers. James, on the other hand, hated all wars with a coward's hatred, and had a great respect for the ancient greatness and autocratic sovereignty of the Spanish kings. Taxation furnished another fertile source of dispute: the court was numerous, profligate, and wasteful, and, in spite of Cecil's economy, the king piled up a mountain of debts, and exceeded his revenue year by year. To fill his purse, he raised the scale of the customs-duties without the consent of Parliament (1608), and then refrained from calling the Houses together for two years. But in 1610 his increasing necessities forced him to summon them, and a sharp dispute about the legality of the increased customs at once began. It grew so bitter that the king dismissed the Parliament without having obtained the money that he wanted, and was constrained to go on accumulating unpaid debts (1611).
Death of Cecil.—Rise of Rochester.
Next year the great minister, Robert Cecil, died, and James was left to govern for himself as best he might. A great change was at once apparent. Its chief symptom was the beginning of the system of government by royal favourites. Hitherto James had heaped wealth and favour on his minions, but had not dared to entrust them with affairs of state, so great was his fear of his able Lord Treasurer. When Salisbury was gone, the king fell entirely into the hands of the favourite of the hour, a young Scot named Robert Ker, who had been his page. James made him Viscount Rochester, put him in the Privy Council, and entrusted him with all his confidential business. Ker was a worthless adventurer, whose good looks and ready tongue were his only stock-in-trade. He used his influence purely for personal ends—to fill his pocket and indulge his taste for ostentation. When he meddled in politics, it was to encourage the king in courses which were hateful to the nation—in forming an alliance with Spain, and in persisting in illegal taxation.
Murder of Sir T. Overbury.—Fall of Rochester.
Ker's domination in the king's council lasted about three years, and was ended by a shocking crime, which did more to lower the court and the king in the eyes of the people than anything which had yet occurred since James's accession. Ker had become enamoured of Frances Howard, the wife of the young Earl of Essex, son of Elizabeth's unfortunate favourite. The countess returned his passion, became his paramour, and agreed to procure her divorce from her husband by bringing scandalous and indelicate accusations against Essex. But a certain Sir Thomas Overbury, an unscrupulous courtier, who was in the secret of this wicked plot, set himself to hinder the marriage, and threatened to make public what he knew. Rochester got him thrown into the Tower, and there he was poisoned by the revengeful countess, with or without the guilty knowledge of the favourite. Lady Essex brought her suit against her husband, and as the king interfered with the course of justice in her favour, the divorce was accomplished. The guilty pair were married with great state, and James raised Rochester to the earldom of Somerset to celebrate the occasion. But murder will out. Two years later the tale of Overbury's assassination got abroad, and the king learnt the story of his favourite's dishonour. James was not quite dead to all feelings of right and wrong, the revelation greatly shocked him, and, moreover, he was growing tired of Somerset's arrogance and dictatorial ways. Hence it came about that he suffered the law to take its course. The earl and countess were tried and convicted of having poisoned Overbury; their lives were spared, but they suffered long imprisonment, and disappeared into obscurity. It is said that Somerset saved his neck by threatening to reveal some disgraceful secret of the king's, of which he was possessed (1616).
Ascendency of Buckingham.
It might have been supposed that Ker's scandalous end would have weaned King James from his propensity for favourites. But this was not so. He replaced the Earl of Somerset by another minion, George Villiers, the son of a Leicestershire squire. Villiers was as handsome and insinuating as Ker, and possessed far greater ability. He not only acquired an entire ascendency over James himself, but mastered as completely the heir to the throne, Prince Charles. The king's elder son, Henry, Prince of Wales, had died four years before, during Somerset's day of power. He had been a very promising youth, and hated his father's ways; hence some suspected that Somerset had poisoned him, though there seems to have been no foundation for the charge.
For the nine years which James had yet to live, he was completely in the hands of Villiers. The young favourite was vain, arrogant, and ambitious; but worse men than he have lived; he had the saving vice of pride, which kept him from many of the meaner sins. He was not cruel, avaricious, or revengeful, as his predecessor Somerset had been. But his influence on the realm was all in the direction of evil; in his headstrong self-confidence, he thought that he was a Heaven-sent statesman, and led his weak and doting master into many follies.
James's subservience to Spain.
The days of his domination are filled with the miserable story of the "Spanish Marriage." King James, as we have already had to remark, was filled with a great respect for the ancient power and wealth of Spain, and never realized how much the foundations of its strength had been sapped by the long and ruinous Dutch and English wars of Philip II. Spain was at this moment represented by a very able ambassador, Sarmiento, Count of Gondomar, who systematically misled the king as to the views and intentions of his master, Philip III. His influence induced James to look to Spanish aid for a solution of all his financial troubles, for he thought that, in return for his alliance, Spain would lend or give him money to cover his annual deficits.
Execution of Raleigh.
This beginning of subservience to Spain is marked by one of the blackest spots in the reign of James—the execution of Sir Walter Raleigh. The old explorer had now lingered for twelve years in the Tower, but got a temporary release by persuading James that he knew of rich gold-mines in Guiana, on the banks of the Orinoco, from which he could bring back a great ransom. He was permitted to sail, but the king informed Gondomar of the matter. Now, the Spaniards still looked on any interference in America as a trespass on their monopoly of the trade of the West. The ambassador sent news of Raleigh's approach to the governors of the West Indies, and preparations were made to give him a hot reception. When he reached South America, Sir Walter was easily drawn into hostilities with the Spaniards, and had to return, after failing to force his way up the Orinoco. When he reached England he was arrested, at Gondomar's request, for having engaged in fighting with a friendly power. But instead of trying him for this misdemeanour, the dastardly king beheaded him without giving him a hearing or an opportunity of defence, on the old charge of having been engaged in Cobham's Plot [37] fifteen years before. He fell a victim to Spanish resentment, not to any crime committed against his own king (1618).
Marriage of Princess Elizabeth.—The Thirty Years' War.
The year of Raleigh's death saw the opening of a new set of troubles for King James. He had married his daughter Elizabeth to Frederic of the Palatinate, the most rash and venturesome of the Protestant princes of Germany. When the great religious struggle known as the Thirty Years' War broke out, Frederic took the lead among the Protestants, and seized the kingdom of Bohemia, one of the possessions of the Emperor Ferdinand, the bigoted and fanatical head of the Romanist party (1619). Frederic, however, was beaten, and lost not only Bohemia, but his own dominions in the Palatinate (1620). Concerned to see his favourite daughter lose her crown and lands, King James conceived a hope that he might induce his Spanish friends to restore his son-in-law to his Rhenish electorate. He forgot that Philip III., as a devout Catholic, was much pleased to see the headstrong Frederic stripped of house and home. But while intriguing with Spain, James, with great duplicity, tried to persuade his subjects that he was ready to make war on the Emperor, in order to restore the elector by force of arms.
Impeachment of Bacon.
A Parliament was again summoned. It gave the king a liberal grant for the proposed war in Germany, but it then proceeded to investigate abuses. The most notable scandal which it discovered was that the Lord Chancellor—the great philosopher, Francis Bacon, Lord Verulam—had been accepting gifts from corrupt suitors in his court—a misdemeanour so flagrant that it struck at the roots of all justice. Bacon pleaded guilty, and was removed from office (1621). The Parliament then began to discuss internal politics, praying for a more rigorous suppression of the Jesuits, and petitioning the king to marry his heir to a Protestant princess; for it was already rumoured that a Spanish match was being proposed for Prince Charles. After much angry debating on what he considered an invasion of his prerogative, James had to dismiss the two Houses (1622).
The Spanish Marriage.
The reports which had reached the ears of the Commons about the marriage of the Prince of Wales were quite correct. The king and Villiers, who had lately been created Earl of Buckingham, had formed a chimerical plan for persuading the King of Spain to restore the elector to the Palatinate, by means of a marriage treaty. If Prince Charles were to offer to wed one of the Infantas, the sisters of Philip IV., they thought that the Spaniard would interfere in Germany in order to oblige his brother-in-law. Moreover, the rich dowry of the princess would serve to pay some of James's debts. They forgot that the King of Spain had no interest or inducement to attack the Emperor, his own cousin and co-religionist, and that the only thing which Philip really wanted to secure by a treaty with England, was toleration for the English Catholics.
Buckingham and Prince Charles in Spain.
From this foolish plan sprang the rash expedition of Buckingham and Prince Charles to Madrid. Thinking to win the consent of the Spanish king by appearing in person, and using the weight of his own attractions, Buckingham persuaded the prince to accompany him, and crossed the Channel. Charles seems to have formed a romantic affection, on hearsay evidence, for the Infanta, and followed his mentor with enthusiasm. They travelled rapidly and in disguise, and were able to present themselves at Madrid before the Spanish court had any idea of their having started. Their presence put Philip IV. in no small perplexity, for he had not really intended to complete the match. His sister, the Infanta Maria, was dismayed at the prince's arrival, and threatened to retire into a nunnery rather than marry him. There followed an interminable series of negotiations, in which the Spaniards attempted to scare off the unwelcome suitor, by proposing hard conditions to him. But Charles at once accepted every proposal made, even offering to grant complete toleration to Catholics in England, which he knew that the nation and Parliament would never permit. Buckingham, meanwhile, made himself much hated by the haughty Spanish court, owing to his absurd arrogance and self-complacency. At last, discovering that the Spaniards did not mean business, he persuaded the prince to take a ceremonious leave of King Philip, and brought him back to England. When they were well out of Spain, they sent back an intimation that nothing more could be done till the king promised to recover the Palatinate for the Elector Frederic—a polite way of breaking off the match.
Alliance with France.
Highly indignant with the Spanish court for its blindness to his own charms and attractions, the headstrong Buckingham resolved to revenge himself on them. This was most easily done by forming an alliance with France, the eternal enemy of Spain. Accordingly, the favourite, on his return to England, began to urge the king and the prince to declare war on Philip IV., and to take up the cause of Lewis XIII. For once Buckingham had public opinion on his side, for war with Spain was always popular in England. The Parliament voted liberal subsidies for an army to be sent to Germany, and a French alliance was easily concluded. Prince Charles, quite cured of his infatuation for the Infanta, offered his hand to Henrietta Maria, the sister of Lewis XIII. She was at once betrothed to him, and the preliminaries for marriage were in progress when the old king suddenly died—worn out by slothful living and hard drinking, to which he had grown much addicted of late years (February, 1625).
Commercial and colonial expansion.
In two spheres only was the inglorious reign of James I. redeemed by some measure of success. The first was the realm of trade and colonial expansion. All through the early years of the century, English commerce was steadily growing, especially with the remote regions of Africa, China, India, and the Spice Islands. At the same time, the first successful English colonies were planted. The second plantation of Virginia was completed in 1607, the Bermudas were settled in 1616, Barbados in 1605. The far more important New England colonies date from 1620-28; they were founded by groups of nonconformist Puritans, who left their native country to escape the harassing laws against schism to which they found themselves subject. It is only fair to add that, when they had settled down in North America, they established a church system quite as intolerant and oppressive as that from which they had fled.
Ireland.—Ulster colonized.
The other sphere in which the reign of James showed a certain success was Ireland. When O'Neil, Earl of Tyrone, the old adversary of Queen Elizabeth, rebelled for a second time in 1607, his dominions in Ulster were confiscated, and carefully portioned out among English and Scotch settlers, who undertook never to resell them to natives. Many thousands of colonists crossed St. George's Channel, and by 1625 Ulster had a large and firmly rooted Protestant population, though its prosperity was founded on the systematic oppression of the native Irish.