CHAPTER IV.
THE KING’S PROJECTS—A JOURNEY TO SCOTLAND—OBSTACLES TO THAT INTENTION—WANT OF MONEY—£100,000 RAISED IN THE CITY—DISLIKE OF THE PEOPLE TO THIS JOURNEY, ON ACCOUNT OF EXPENSE—JAMES SETS OUT, MARCH 13TH, 1616-1617—HIS ATTENDANT COURTIERS, SIR JOHN ZOUCH, SIR GEORGE GORING, SIR JOHN FINETT—CHARACTERISTICS OF EACH—SURPASSING QUALITIES OF BUCKINGHAM—OBJECTS OF JAMES’S JOURNEY TO EDINBURGH—ANECDOTE OF LORD HOWARD OF WALDEN—DISPUTATIONS AT ST. ANDREWS—THE KING KNIGHTS MANY OF THE YOUNG COURTIERS—OFFENCE GIVEN AT EDINBURGH BY LAUD—A PROJECT TO ASSASSINATE BUCKINGHAM SUSPECTED—JAMES’S PROGRESS CONCLUDED—HIS VISIT TO WARWICK—AFFAIRS RELATING TO SIR EDWARD COKE AND HIS FAMILY—BASE CONDUCT OF ALL THE PARTIES CONCERNED—MEANNESS OF BACON—HIS LETTERS—FRANCES HATTON—CONTRAST BETWEEN HER AND THE EARL OF OXFORD BROUGHT FORWARD BY LADY HATTON—COKE RESTORED TO FAVOUR—MARRIAGE OF FRANCES HATTON TO LORD PURBECK.
CHAPTER IV.
Early in the year 1616-17, James determined to visit Scotland—a resolution which was opposed, somewhat to the displeasure of the King, by Buckingham. But the King was soon pacified, and the journey was decided upon. Some obstacles existed; for instance, the want of money, which was to be borrowed from rich citizens before the monarch’s project could take place; then it was expected to prove a “hard journey,” for it was thought the Court would reach the North before there would be grass for their horses; and even the Scots expressed a wish that the visitation might be deferred.[[155]]
The entertainment given to Monsieur de la Tour, the Ambassador Extraordinary from the French King, delayed somewhat this freezing expedition. At length, it was decided that James should set out on the twenty-second of February; though money came in slowly; and it was found extremely difficult to raise the sum of 100,000l. in the metropolis. “Yet,” observes a contemporary, “there is much urging, and in the end it must be done, though men be never so much discouraged.” To propitiate the presiding Lord Mayor, he was knighted, and received, with his companions, the King’s thanks for the 100,000l. in prospect, which was, however, to be raised, nolens volens, whilst men of low condition were called in to bear the burden.
It was not until the thirteenth of March that the King and Queen, with Prince Charles, removed to Theobalds, preparatory to the progress of James northwards. Never was undertaking so much disliked by the generality of the people, chiefly on account of the immense expense which it involved. It was now fourteen years since his Majesty had visited his Scottish dominions. “He began the journey,” says Wilson, “with the spring, warming the country, as he went, with the glories of the Court;” and carrying with him those boon companions who best could shorten the way, and consume the nights by their pranks and buffoonery. These were Sir George Goring, Sir Edward Zouch, and Sir John Finett—men “who could fit and obtemperate the King’s humour;” and it may, therefore, be readily supposed what description of gentlemen they were. Sir George Goring was a native of Hurst-per-point, in Sussex, in which county his descendants still flourish. He had been brought up in the Court of Queen Elizabeth, his father being one of the gentlemen pensioners; and had been gentleman in ordinary to Prince Henry. He now went as lieutenant of the gentlemen pensioners, and accordingly was despatched with others of that hand by sea.[[156]] Goring had attracted the regard of James by his sound sense and vein of jocular humour; like Sir Edward Zouch and Sir John Finett, he was the “chief and master fool” of the Court—sometimes “presenting David Dromore and Archie Armstrong, the King’s fools, on the back of other fools, till they fell together by the ears, and fell one over another.” Goring, like his colleagues in his respectable employment, is said to have got more by his fooling than other people did by their wisdom; he was, indeed, regarded as a sort of minor favourite, yet Buckingham evinced no jealousy of him, and procured him, in 1629, the title of Baron Goring, of Hurst-pierre-point.[[157]] Finett and Zouch were equally expert with Goring in “antick” dances, disguises in masqueradoes, and extemporary foolery; but in this last accomplishment Sir John Millicent, whose name is not among the King’s retinue in Scotland, excelled them all; and was the “most commended for notable fooling.”[fooling.”][[158]] It was found, however, impossible to surpass Buckingham in the accomplishment of dancing. His grace, and the fondness he showed for the pastime, brought it into fashion. “No man,” writes an historian, “dances better; no man runs or jumps better; and, indeed, he jumps higher than ever Englishman did in so short a time—from a private gentleman to a dukedom.”[[159]] He now reigned sole monarch in the King’s favour; and everything he did was admired “for the doer’s sake.” The king was never contented, except when near him; nor could the Court grandees be well out of his presence; all petitions, therefore, “whether for place or office, for Court or Commonwealth, were addressed to him.”
The King proceeded by easy journeys of ten, twelve, and seventeen miles a day northwards. It is curious to find him resting a day and a night at the home of Sir Oliver Cromwell of Hinchinbrook, near Huntingdon.[[160]] At Lincoln, he healed fifty persons of the Evil, a gracious act which was succeeded by an attendance upon a cock-fighting, at which His Majesty was very merry. This diversion was varied by horse-racing.
On his arrival near Edinburgh, the King took up his arrival at Seton House, the seat of the Earl of Wintoun, whose family continued to be faithful to the descendants of James during the calamitous contest between the modern Stuarts and the Hanoverians. James remained in Scotland until the fifth of July, when he returned by the west coast of Scotland to Carlisle.
The three great objects of his Majesty’s journey to Scotland, were the extension of episcopal authority; the establishment of some ceremonials in religion; and the elevation of the civil above the ecclesiastic authority.[[161]] It does not, however, appear that Buckingham took any active part in these designs, or that he was at this period regarded in any other light than as one of the ministering agents to the amusement of James’s vacant hours. It is possible that he may have viewed Scotland with that prejudice with which the English at that time regarded that nation. The revenues of that country being then insufficient to maintain the Government, Buckingham probably deemed it, as others did, nothing but a drain upon the resources of England—a barren ground from which “a beggarly rabble (like a fluent spring),” to use the words of Osborne, “was for ever to be found crossing the River Tweed.”[[162]] The national prejudice was likewise considerably strengthened by the King’s favourite, but abortive scheme of union between the two crowns; thus dividing the kingdom into halves, so that he, “a Christian king under the gospel, should no longer be a polygamist to two wives, under which discreditable imputation he conceived that the partition of the kingdom placed him.”[him.”][[163]] Whether Buckingham may have been propitiated by the hospitality of the Scots or not, or whether he thought with Sir Anthony Weldon that “the country was too good for them that possess it, and too bad for others to be at the charge to conquer it,” does not appear. In some passages of the Royal Progress it is most likely that the young courtier found but little delight. At St. Andrews, disputations in divinity, and at Stirling in philosophy, were honoured by the King’s presence. They were delivered by some members of the University of Edinburgh, and were to have been held in the college there, had not public business interfered.”[interfered.”][[164]]
For a time the presence of James in Scotland produced all the good effects which the aspect of royalty generally ensures. The English became extremely popular in the northern capital, then rarely visited by the great and fashionable. “We hear little out of Scotland,” writes Mr. Chamberlain to Sir Dudley Carleton, “but that the Parliament is now beginning, and that our English are extraordinarily respected, and friendly to the nobles, to whom the King makes much caresses, and receives them as his guests. The Earl of Buckingham is made one of the council there, and takes his place above the rest as Master of the Horse. They speak that he shall be made Marquis of Scotland, and the Lord Compton an Earl, to counterpoise the Scotch that have been ennobled here.”[[165]] James was indeed profuse beyond measure in his titles during this progress.
“All our peers’ sons that went with the King,” adds the same writer, “were knighted there that were undubbed before, and all the gentlemen of Yorkshire, so that there is scarce left an esquire to uphold the race, and the order is descended somewhat lower, even to Adam Hill, that was the Earl of Montgomery’s barber, and to one Jeane, husband to the Queen’s laundress, our host of Doncaster; and to another that lately kept an inn at Rumford; and a youth, one Conir, is come into consideration as to become a prince of favourites, brought in by the Earl of Buckingham, and the wags talk as if he were in possibility to become Viscount Conir. All the mean officers of the household are also said to be knighted, so that ladies are like to be in little request.”[[166]]
But it was not in the nature of things that affairs should go on without some inconveniences and apprehensions, and great offence was given in Scotland, when, at the funeral of one of the guard, who was buried after the English ritual, Laud, then Dean of St. Paul’s, desired those assembled to join him in recommending the soul of his deceased brother to Almighty God. He was afterwards obliged to retract, and to say that he had done this in a sort of civility rather than according to rule. Another exception was taken at his putting on a white surplice just at that part of the funeral service when the body was going to be put into the ground. The Dean of the royal chapel in Edinburgh also refused to receive the communion whilst Dr. Laud was kneeling.[[167]]
During his residence in Edinburgh, the life of Buckingham was said to be endangered by a plot to assassinate him, a prelude, as it seemed, to the tragic doom which he afterwards encountered. In a letter from Sir Thomas Lake to Sir Ralph Winwood, dated from Brougham Castle, and written on the seventh of August, 1617, he thus refers to the peril which threatened the favourite:—
“All the news which is here, is that many lords have been busied about a fellow who, in his drink, spake some words as though he had an intention to kill my Lord of Buckingham. He is one of the guard of Scotland, his name is Carre, and said his intention was for that his lordship was the cause of Somerset’s dismission. He has, since his being sober, confessed his words to my Lord of Lennox. I came out from the last house before some of the old lords of Scotland had done with him, and therefore can yet say no more to you. The words were spoken in Scotland. Some of my Lord of Buckingham’s friends do doubt Carre was but set on.”
On the twenty-seventh of the same month, the culprit had, it appears, proceeded far on his journey southward, as a prisoner, to take his trial in London for his meditated crime. “On Saturday last,” writes Mr. Chamberlain to Sir Dudley Carleton, “here past, by Ware, one Carre, a Scottish gentleman, being suspected and charged (together with four others of that family and name) to have conspired the death of the Earl of Buckingham, at his coming out of Scotland, and so was apprehended near Carlisle.”[Carlisle.”][[168]]
No further notice of this affair occurs in the correspondence from which it is derived; and it is possible that the plot was inferred from the hasty expressions of offended clansmen, and was found, on investigation, to be without sufficient proof to bring it into a court of law.
Among the English peers who visited Scotland, the least popular was Lord Howard of Walden, eldest son of the Earl of Suffolk. This nobleman enjoyed the especial favour of King James; his name occurs in most of the courtly festivities of the day, as one appointed to appear foremost in all stately revels, and he received a more substantial proof of royal preference in being called to the House of Lords in the lifetime of his father. In the north, however, he was detested, chiefly on account of his ill usage of his wife, Elizabeth, daughter of George, Lord Harris, Earl of Dunbar, and likewise from his accustomed boasting of his influence with Buckingham, for it was a favourite saying of Lord Howard’s, “that he, and none other, had an especial interest in the favourite.”
Lord Howard seems to have been a mark at which the courtiers aimed their shafts of wit and ridicule; it was during the journey into Scotland that he came into collision with a nobleman of a very different character, James, second Marquis of Hamilton. This nobleman enjoyed, in a very uncommon degree, the confidence and esteem of his royal master, who was accustomed to call him familiarly by his Christian name. He held the office of Lord Steward of the Household, and Privy Councillor; and, in that capacity, was doubtless often surprised, if not irritated, by the precedence and latitude given to Buckingham. By his countrymen, the Marquis was considered “to be the gallantest gentleman in all Scotland.”
The following account is characteristic of the mingled idleness and dissension of a courtier’s life:—[[169]]
“Riding one day with the king, a-hunting, he, Lord Howard of Walden, asked the Marquis of Hamilton whether he were ever in love. He answered, Yes. What effects wrought it? saith he. His answer was, It made him fat, saucy, and ignorant. Other speeches passed just like this, but I proceed to the quarrels he had with him. The Marquis of Hamilton hath a page, whom my Lord Hay did liken, for his fairness of face, to the second daughter of the Lord Burghley, Mrs. Diana Cecil, admired so much by the Lord Walden, except he were unmarried. After my Lord Hay’s departure thence, the Marquis, the Favourite, and Lord Walden being at dinner together, and the boy waiting at the table, the Marquis and my Lord Buckingham whispered and laughed, to which my Lord Walden said he knew what they laughed at, and that he, that said that, was but a fool. To which the Marquis replied that, ‘were he a roaring boy, he would have flung a glass of wine in his face.’ It was my Lord Hay had said it. He was his friend, and a noble gentleman, whom, in his absence, he would not have wronged, and, therefore, bid him, before he should answer it, draw his sword. But my Lord of Buckingham so talked with these lords that after dinner he did reconcile this business, the Lord Walden acknowledging him now, upon better consideration, to be a noble gentleman, and that he knew no other of my Lord Hay. This business fell out nigh a month before the king’s coming from Scotland, though it came not to my knowledge since a week before the king’s departure there, at what time the Marquis Hamilton was on the point to be sworn a councillor. The Lord Walden, remembering some of these former passages, and thinking to stop the conferring of this honour upon him, as is said, did acquaint Sir Edward Villiers, that the Marquis should say that if my Lord of Buckingham did not dispatch that business for him, of conferring the councillorship, that he would cut his throat, wishing him to tell it his brother, which he did; so that, when he met the Marquis, the Lord of Buckingham questioned him of that, who presently demanded the author, which he told him. Then the Marquis departed, and presently sent the Lord Buckhurst to seek out the Lord Walden, with a challenge as was thought, but he could not be found. In the end he came to my Lord of Buckingham’s chamber, where, it is said, he lamented by ill fortune to have these words spoken again, and from thence did not depart until by acknowledgments the quarrel was reconciled.”
Buckingham appears, on this occasion, to have acted a kind and sensible part. His utmost discretion was soon called upon in an affair upon which the annals of the time ring changes, and the details of which present the most curious combat of worldly[worldly] passions, and the most fatal results of misdirected influence, that can be conceived.
In spite of a “fearful dream” of Queen Anne’s, reported to James as a warning, his progress was not shortened. He spent several days at Brougham Castle, the residence of Francis Clifford, fourth Earl of Cumberland, whose daughter, the celebrated Anne Clifford, afterwards repaired the castle, which suffered during the civil wars; but which, so vain were her exertions, has since been permitted to fall into ruins. The expenses entailed by the king’s visit, including the music performed in his presence, were considerable, and helped to ruin the lord of the castle, an easy, improvident man, whose allusion to the tax imposed by this royal visitation is almost touching. “I fynde plainly,” he thus wrote to his son, “upon better consideration, that the charge for that entertainment will grow very great, besyde the musick, and that instead of lessening, my charge in general encreaseth, and new paiments come on which without better providence hereafter cannot be performed.”[[170]] In his progress from one mansion or manor-house to another, James visited several of those families whose names became afterwards distinguished among the adherents of his unfortunate son. At Hoghton Tower, in Lancashire, at that time the principal seat of the Hoghton family, but now unhappily a ruin, still containing an apartment called King James’s room; where[where] the monarch is said to have conferred the honour of knighthood, which he had dispensed very freely during his progress upon his subjects, on the loin of beef, that act being also one of the last achievements of his journey. He visited also Lathom House, the seat of the Stanleys; and was received with great demonstrations of respect and joy at Stafford, where the Earl of Essex, who lived in an honoured retirement at Chartley Castle, rode before him into the town. At Warwick, he was entertained by Sir Fulke Grevill, who was then the master of Warwick Castle, which he had found, on taking possession of it, in a ruinous state, and used as a county jail.[[171]] In the hall of Leicester Hospital, that charitable foundation, endowed by Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester, for twelve Brethren, James was entertained with a supper; an event of which a tradition still remains attached to the half-monastic institution in which it occurred. Sir Fulke Grevill had his own private motives to induce him to extend his marks of respect to Buckingham, as well as to the king; for, shortly afterwards, we find him a suitor to the niece of Buckingham, Lady Anderson, for her hand.[[172]] There can be no doubt, but that James and Buckingham visited Warwick Castle, but were not entertained there on account of its ruinous condition.
Whilst Buckingham was in Scotland, overtures were made to reconcile certain differences between him and Sir Edward Coke, then Lord Chief Justice in England. In order to comprehend the conduct which the favourite pursued in relation to that celebrated man, it becomes necessary to review a series of occurrences which had happened previously to the Scottish journey; to enter, likewise, into the topics of the day; and, above all, to refer to the prejudices of the king, and the resistance made to them by an honest, though a harsh, individual. These considerations are mixed up with matters of apparently private interest; yet are necessary to be unfolded, when the conduct of Villiers, and the history of his family, are the subject of narrative.
It will be remembered that the chief interest which James derived from the representation of the play of “Ignoramus” had arisen from the ridicule cast upon the practice of the common law. In several passages of that drama, Sir Edward Coke was supposed to be particularly alluded to.[[173]] This great lawyer had, in various ways, given offence; he had termed the royal prerogative, in one of his speeches in Parliament, “a great overgrown monster;” and he had displayed a courage which redeemed his character from many of its demerits, by insinuating that the common law of England was in charge of being perverted. On two other notable points Coke had also offended the king; the one being the famous dispute respecting the Court of Chancery; the other, the still more celebrated case of the Commendams.[[174]] In the former matter, the conduct of Coke is allowed to have been highly discreditable to him and his associates; in the latter, to have merited the warmest admiration.
Whatever view the public may have taken of these transactions, they formed the first plea for that ruin of Coke to which Buckingham is said to have given an impetus, by the intrusion of his own interests upon the royal ear,[[175]] at this crisis of Coke’s destiny. The King, summoning the Lord Chief Justice and the twelve judges to the council at Whitehall, delivered his opinions concerning their conduct in an harangue, in which he declared “that ever since his coming to the crown, the popular sort of lawyers had been the men that most effrontedly had trodden upon his prerogative;”[[176]] and, having expatiated upon their offences with his usual pedantry and prolixity, he dismissed them, declaring “that in his protection of them, and expediting of justice, he would walk in the steps of the ancient and best of kings.” The firmness with which Coke conducted himself during the whole of this affair, whilst it won him a popularity which he would never otherwise have acquired, prepared the way for those who, from interested motives, sought his ruin, and, combined with his zeal and acuteness in the trial of Lord and Lady Somerset—an acuteness which the King, it is rumoured, had secret reasons to dread—completely undermined his credit at court.
In the intrigues which tended to ruin Coke, Buckingham certainly participated.[[177]] The first instance of rapacity in the young favourite is discernible at this period. Sir Henry Roper had for many years enjoyed the place of Chief Clerk for enrolling the pleas of the King’s Bench; it was supposed to be worth 4000l. per annum. Being advanced in age, Sir Henry was disposed to relinquish the appointment, on condition of being made Lord Teynham, receiving the salary during his life. Buckingham seized this opportunity of improving his fortunes. He applied for the reversion of this office to be granted to two of his trustees during their lives—an application which had been successfully made by the Earl of Somerset formerly.[[178]] But the Lord Chief Justice stood in the way of this surrender on the part of Roper, and also of the proposed arrangement. He answered, upon first being solicited, “that he was old, and could not struggle”—a reply which was regarded as a compliance.[[179]] But when Sir Henry Roper actually surrendered the situation, and was created Lord Teynham, Coke changed his tone, and stated that, since the salaries of the judges in his court were very low, it would be desirable to increase them by the revenues of this office, which was at his disposal. Upon this, it was resolved by the King and his favourite to remove him, and to substitute on the Bench a more compliant judge. The avowed plea of this iniquitous proceeding was the conduct of Coke in the affair of the Commendams; but its real cause was his non-compliance with the views of Buckingham. Bacon, with his usual subserviency, augmented by his hatred of Coke, wrote to Villiers: “For Roper’s place, I would have it by all means despatched, and therefore I marvel it lingereth.” The “thing,” he declared, was so reasonable, “that it ought to be done as soon as said.” Unhappily for Coke, he thought otherwise.
It is hardly possible to conceive a line of conduct more degrading than that which Buckingham pursued in the whole of this affair. He forfeited by it all the credit due to him for the rejection of Sherborne, and the principle of which he had boasted, that he would not rise upon the ruins of others, was already effaced from his memory. Upon the third of October, 1616, Coke was desired to desist from the service of his place.[[180]] This intimation of a disgraceful act had come suddenly, for, on the week before, the King had been at a great entertainment, given by Lord Exeter at Wimbledon, and the Lady Hatton, the wife of the Lord Chief Justice, was there, and “well-graced, for the King had kissed her twice:” but this, it seems, was “but a lightening.” On the following Sunday, Sir Edward Coke was sequestered from the council table, and prohibited from riding his circuit, his place being supplied by Sir Randolph Crew. “Some that wish him well,” adds a contemporary, “fear the matter will not end here, for he is wilful and will take no counsel, and not seeking to make good his first errors, runs in worse, and entangles himself more and more, and gives his enemies such advantage to work upon the King’s indignation towards him, that he is in great danger.” Others scrupled not to say that he had been too busy in the late business (of Somerset), and had dived into secrets further than there was need. “It happens, also, that he had not carried himself advisedly and dutifully to His Majesty.”[[181]] All these assigned causes are points which tend somewhat to mitigate the censures which must be cast on Buckingham in this affair. Lady Hatton, too, a Cecil, but not endowed with the prudence of that sagacious family, and one of the fiercest of her sex, contributed to the downfall of her husband, by carrying herself very indiscreetly to the Queen, who forbade her the court. “The story,” adds the same chronicler, “were long to tell; but it was about braving and uncivil words to the Lady Compton, George Villiers’ mother, and vouching the Queen for her author.” As usual,[[182]] to women was attributed all the far-spreading evil which comes[comes] out of contention.
A letter addressed by Coke to Buckingham, before his final removal from his pre-eminent station, must, one would imagine, have touched a harder heart than that of Villiers. Coke’s words are described as “now being humble enough.” His letter, though supplicatory, was not abject. He thanked Buckingham for having, by his honourable means, obtained a hearing for him. He entered manfully into the defence of his book of reports, to which objections had been made, which were the plea of his suspension from his usual judicial duties, “assuring his Lordship that never any book was written of any human learning that was not in some part or other subject to exception.”[[183]]
This remonstrance was dispatched to Buckingham at a time when the heart of the favourite might have been softened by his own elevation, and by the general joy. It reached him just before the creation of Charles, Prince of Wales, and contained a request that the deeply-humbled Coke might be permitted to attend that ceremonial.[[184]] There is no record that the entreaty was acceded to.
Until the end of November (1616) the fate of the Lord Chief Justice was undecided. The Queen, to her credit, and the Prince Charles, were urgent in his behalf. And a rumour now first began to prevail that the younger brother of the favourite, Sir John Villiers, who had an appointment in the Prince’s household, was to marry Sir Edward Coke’s daughter, with a dowry of 900l. in land from her father, and 2,100l. in land from Lady Hatton, together with Lord Teynham’s office; but, in the meantime, the Lord Chief Justice was, in his fortunes, affected as it were with an “ague,” which has an alternate bad and good day.[[185]] The next report was that Coke was “quite off the hooks,” and that orders had been sent to give him a supersedeas. The jest of the day was that four P’s had lost him his place—Pride, Prohibitions, Præmunire, and Prerogative.[[186]] Shortly afterwards he was superseded, and had the mortification of knowing that Sir Henry Montagu, who was appointed in his stead, went with great pomp to Westminster Hall, accompanied by many noblemen, to the number of “fifty horse, the whole fry of the Middle Temple, and swarms of lawyers and officers.”[[187]] That was a day of triumph for Buckingham.
The character of the most famous of English lawyers rose under this unmerited injury.[[188]] He bore his misfortune with calm dignity. It is related of him that when the new Chief Justice sent to buy from him his collar of S.S., he answered that he would not part with it, but would leave it to his descendants, that they might know that one day they had a Chief Justice to their ancestor. A remarkable popularity followed his degradation. Sir Edward Coke was the first judge that had set the example of independence on the bench; and his refusing to be tampered with in the disposal of a lucrative office caused him to be regarded as a martyr. Even the King, when he intimated at the Privy Council his intention to supersede Coke, did it with a sort of half shame, declaring that he thought him “in no way corrupt, but a good justice,” and adding “as many compliments as if he had meant to hang him with a silken halter.”[halter.”][[189]] Such was the corruption of the times, such the utter want of all honourable principle, that it was well known that, had Coke been wise enough to take advantage of the proposed match between his daughter and Sir John Villiers, “he would have been that day Lord Chancellor.” His avarice had been the impediment to that marriage. A dowry of 10,000l. had been asked with his daughter—he had offered 10,000 marks, and “he had stuck at 1,000l. a year during his life,” letting fall certain idle words, that he would not buy the King’s favour too dear, “being so uncertain and variable.”[[190]]
The public were at no loss, as Lord Campbell remarks, to account for the disgrace of Coke, when they knew that his successor, before accepting his office, was obliged to bind himself to dispose of the chief clerkship for the benefit of Buckingham, and when they saw two trustees for Buckingham admitted to the place as soon as the new Chief Justice was sworn in.
Such had been the state of affairs before James and Villiers set out for Scotland; during their absence, the world was alternately amused and disgusted by the proceedings of Sir Edward Coke and his lady, regarding the match proposed between Sir John Villiers and their daughter.
This celebrated judge was peculiarly unhappy in his domestic life. Lady Elizabeth Hatton, his second wife, the sister of Thomas Burleigh, Earl of Exeter, and the widow of Sir Thomas Hatton, had brought him, along with a large fortune, the unpleasant acquisition of a partner violent, litigious, and unscrupulous[unscrupulous]. The very commencement of the inauspicious nuptials had been attended with trouble, the parties subjecting themselves to many inconveniencies from the irregularity of their marriage, which took place in a private house, without bans[bans] or licence. From the moment that the knot was tied, Coke found in this new connection nothing but misery. Neither in private nor in public could his wife and he abstain from the sharpest contentions.
Their daughter—that object which should most surely have cemented a union—soon proved a new source of the bitterest feuds.
When Buckingham was in Scotland, an overture was made to him on the part of Sir Edward Coke, relating to the marriage of his youngest daughter to Sir John Villiers, the elder brother of the favourite. The proposal was made through Secretary Winwood, the friend of Coke, and was, at first, eagerly accepted by Buckingham; but, although it had these good auspices, there were obstacles which prevented its favourable course.
One of these was the dislike of the young lady to her appointed suitor, who was diseased, and troubled with a humour in his legs, and accounted not a long-lived man; so that, as was observed by Mr. Chamberlain, “there needed so much ado to get him a wife.” Another was the jealousy of Lady Hatton. Incensed that her husband should dare to dispose of her daughter without her consent, she carried her off, and secreted her in the house of Sir Edmund Withipole, near Oatlands, in Surrey. From that retreat, the young lady was removed to the residence of Archibald, seventh Earl of Argyle, near Hampton Court.
Lady Hatton immediately hired a lodging in the town of Kingston; whence she was permitted to visit her daughter, but not to sleep under the same roof with her. “She kept her, however,” observes a contemporary writer, “such company, that none else could have access to her.”[[191]] This access was moderated, and her creatures, whom she had employed to take her daughter away, were questioned and committed. Finding herself forsaken by her friends, “who dared not show themselves too far in the business, and seeing,” adds the same authority, “that she struggled in vain, Lady Hatton began to come about.” At this juncture, Buckingham interfered. He wrote a letter which calmed the fury: she returned him an answer, “that if this way had been taken with her at first, they might have proceeded better.”[[192]] Her husband was, however, now incensed beyond control. He procured a warrant from Secretary Winwood, and fetched away his daughter from Hampton Court, exceeding, indeed, the terms of his warrant, for he is said to have broken open the doors of the house to obtain her. Lady Hatton was quickly engaged in pursuit of him; and “had not her coach tired,” as it is related, “there would soon have been strange tragedies.”[[193]]
Coke then conveyed his daughter to the care of Lady Compton Villiers, but the next day the clerk of the council was sent to take the custody of her, in his own house. The affair was heard before the Privy Council, when a violent contention amused the indifferent spectators, and aggravated the hatred of the parties concerned. Lady Hatton, in her vehemence, is said to have declaimed with a force worthy of Burbage, then the most popular actor of the day. At last, after much wrangling, a reconciliation was effected. Lady Hatton was induced, upon some conditions, to double the portion which her husband had offered, “and to make up the match and give it her blessing.” Lady Compton Villiers and her sons repaired to Kingston, where they remained two or three days, “which,” adds the writer, “makes the world think they grow to conclusion.” The fact was, that finding she had no power to resist, Lady Hatton thought proper to give in with a good grace; thus commanding better terms with Coke than a further resistance would have procured, “and so,” adds Mr. Chamberlain, “defeat her husband’s purposes, towards whom, of late, she had carried herself very strangely, neither like a wife nor a wise woman.”[[194]]
Thus, Coke’s “curst heart,” as his wife termed it, was forced to yield to terms which he had never contemplated. The matter ended with the young lady’s being sent to Hatton House, with orders that “Lady Compton and her son should have access to win and wear her.” Meanwhile, all the world expected that King James, whose minute interference in the affairs of his courtiers equalled that of Henry the Eighth, would have mediated a peace between Sir Edward Coke and his wife; but James forbore, declaring that it “was a thing of more time and more care than he could afford to give the matter.”
In this transaction, there is not a single individual who does not appear to have harboured some unworthy motive. Coke, notwithstanding the failure of his own matrimonial schemes, was ready to wed his daughter to Sir John Villiers, without the slightest regard to her wishes and affections.[[195]] Buckingham, his mother, and his brother were actuated by the most mercenary considerations. Lady Hatton and her daughter were aiming at a younger son of the Earl of Suffolk, Sir Robert Howard, who was subsequently prosecuted for a criminal intrigue with Frances Hatton, after she had become the wife of Sir John Villiers.
During the height of her opposition, the friends of Lady Hatton published a contract, said to have been signed, in the presence of her mother, by Frances Coke; and whether real, or merely contrived for the purpose of preventing the marriage with Sir John Villiers (a precontract being in those days as great an obstacle as a previous marriage), it is highly characteristic of the parties concerned in it. This curious document, from a young lady of the seventeenth century[seventeenth century], is as follows:—
“I vow before God, and take the Almighty to witness, that I, Frances Coke, younger daughter of Sir Edward Coke, late Lord Cheife Justice of England, doe give myselfe absolutely to wife, to Henry Vere, Viscount Balboke, Earl of Oxenford, to whom I plight my fayth, and inviolate vows, to keepe myselfe till death us do part; and if ever I break off the least of these, I pray God damme me body and soule in hell fyre in the world to come. And in thys worlde, I humbly beseech God the earth may open and swallowe me up quicke to the terror of all fayth breakers that remayne alive. In witness thereof, I have written all thys with my owne hand, and sealed yt with my own seale (a hart crowned), which I will ware till you returne to make it good that I have sent you; and for further assurance, I here underneath sett to my name,
“Frances Coke,
“in the presence of my deare mother,
“Elizabeth Hatton.
“July 10th, 1617.”[[196]]
But the meanest actor in this whole affair was Francis Bacon. His jealousy and hatred of Coke impelled him to oppose the marriage; but he made the greatest profession of forwarding it. He wrote on the subject to Buckingham, in these terms:—
“My very good lord,
Since my last to your lordship I did first send to Mr. Attorney General, and made him know that since I heard from court, I was resolved to further the match and conditions thereof, for your Lordship’s brother’s advancement, the best I could.”
He then details his further exertions in the matter; his apprising Lady Hatton and some other special friends that he would in anything declare for the match; his sending Sir John Bulter[[197]] to Lady Compton Villiers to tender his good offices; but even whilst he made these overtures and promises his courage flinched from abetting an event which would give such influence to his old enemy, Coke.
“I did ever foresee,” he writes, “that this alliance would go near to lose me your lordship, that I hold so dear, and that was the only respect particular to myself that moved me to be as I was, till I heard from you. But I will rely on your constancy and nature, and my own deserving, and the firm tie we have in respect of the King’s service.”[[198]]
Well might the writer of this letter complain that Lady Compton Villiers and her son, Sir John, who saw through all his professions, spoke of him with some bitterness and neglect. They were, it appeared, under the influence of Sir Edward Coke, and of Secretary Winwood, the latter of whom Bacon “took to be the worst of his enemies.”[enemies.”] But he resolved “to bear both with Lady Compton Villiers and her son—with her, as a lady; with her son, as a lover”—and ended by the exclamation:—“God keep us from these long journeys and absences, which make misunderstanding, and give advantage to untruth; and ever prosper and preserve your lordship!”
Nevertheless, Bacon is supposed to have been the instigator of certain proceedings in the Star Chamber, which were commenced against Sir Edward Coke, for what was called an outrage; although the carrying his daughter away were an action justifiable by law; and he quickly showed how earnest was his determination to prevent the match, by another letter to Buckingham. In this he complained of the officious busying himself of Secretary Winwood, and asserted that it was done rather to make a faction than out of any great affection for Buckingham. “It is true,” he adds, “he hath the consent of Sir Edward Coke (as we hear) upon reasonable conditions for your brother, and yet not better than, without question, may be found in some other matches.” He next states the objections to the match.
“First, that Sir John Villiers would marry into a disgraced house, which in reason of state is never held good.
“Next, he shall marry into a troubled home of man and wife, which in religion and Christian discretion is disliked.
“Thirdly, that he should incur the almost certain loss of friends, myself only excepted, who, out of a pure love and thankfulness, shall be ever firm to you.
“And lastly and chiefly, the danger that would be incurred of lessening Buckingham’s influence with the King.” He therefore recommended Buckingham to signify unto his mother, who seems to have been the main-spring in the affair, that his desire was that the marriage should not be proceeded in without the consent of both parties, thus making use of a plea in order to sound a retreat from the alliance; but all was in vain.
Bacon next addressed himself to the King. He touched him in his weak part. “Your Majesty’s prerogative and authority have risen in some just degrees above the horizon more than heretofore, which has distilled vapours; your judges are in good temper; your justices of peace (which is the great body of the gentlemen of England) grow to be loving and obsequious, and to be weary of this humour of ruffling; all mutinous spirits grow to be a little poor, and to draw in their horns, and not the less for your Majesty’s disauthorising the man I speak of;[[199]] now, then, I reasonably doubt that if there be but an opinion of his coming in with the strength of such an alliance, it will give a downward relapse in men’s minds unto the former state of things, hardly to be helped, to the great weakening of your Majesty’s service. He is by nature unsociable, and by habit unpopular, and too old to take a new place. And men begin already to collect, yea, and to conclude that he that raiseth such a smoke to get in, will set all on fire when he is in.”[in.”][[200]]
Not content with these remonstrances, Bacon threatened Winwood with a Præmunire for granting the warrant; but he was speedily checked by the indignation of Buckingham, and consequently by that of the King. Coke was reinstated in the favour of the Monarch, and restored to his place in the Privy Council, September 15, 1617. He joined the Court on its journey from Scotland at Woodstock, and “as if he were already on his wings,” to use the expression of Sir Henry Yelverton, in his letter to Bacon, “triumphed exceedingly.”
The poor puppet, Frances Hatton, whose inclinations, as Lord Campbell remarks, were as little considered “as if she had been a Queen of Spain under the influence of a Louis Philippe,” was now commanded by her mother to write a second letter, consenting to marry one who, in thus espousing her, proved to be most unhappy.
“Madam,
“I must now humbly desire your patience in giving me leave to declare myself to you, which is, that without your allowance and liking, all the world shall never make me entangle or tie myself. But now, by my father’s especial commandment, I obey him in presenting to you my humble duty, in a tedious letter which is to know your ladyship’s pleasure, not as a thing I desire, but I resolve to be wholly ruled by my father and yourself, knowing your judgment to be such that I may well rely upon, and hoping that conscience and the natural affection parents bear to children, will let you do nothing but for my good, and that you may receive comfort, I being a mere child, and not understanding the world, nor what is good for myself. That which makes me a little give way to it, is that I hope it will be a means to procure a reconciliation between my father and your ladyship. Also, I think it will be a means of the King’s favour to my father. Himself[[201]] is not to be misliked, his fortune is very good, a gentleman well born * * * * So I humbly take my leave, praying that all things may be to every one’s contentment,
“Your ladyship’s most obedient,
“and humble daughter, for ever,
”Frances Coke.
“Dear Mother,—Believe, there has no violent means been used to me by words or deeds.”[[202]]
There now remained nothing but to unite the two young persons whose affairs had become a matter of public interest. Accordingly, they were married on Michaelmas day in the royal chapel at Hampton Court, by the Bishop of Winchester, having been thrice publicly asked in church, the King giving away “Mrs. Frances Coke the bride:” the Queen was present, and Sir Edward Coke brought the bride and bridegroom from his son’s house at Kingston, with eight or nine coaches. The consent of Lady Hatton was gained; her daughter protesting that, “although she liked Sir John Villiers better than any one else, she was resolved to keep a solemn promise made by her to her mother, not to marry without her consent.”[[203]]
This marriage, however, did not pacify Lady Hatton’s haughty and vindictive spirit. On the wedding-day, she honoured the event, it is true, by a magnificent entertainment; her husband was not, however, invited, but was seen dining at the public table in the Temple. Their enmity endured for four years without mitigation; at the end of that time, it was subdued by the interference of the King; but was never wholly subdued.
By the alliance with Frances Coke, the Villiers family received considerable accession of wealth; for besides the sum of 10,000l. paid in money, Sir Edward and his son, Robert, did, upon the second of November, pursuant to directions of the Lords of Council, assure to Sir John Villiers an annuity of 2,000 marks per annum during Sir Edward Coke’s life, and of 900l. a year during that of Lady Hatton; besides the manor of Stoke Pogis, in Buckinghamshire, after their deaths: being the moiety of those lands which Sir Edward Coke intended to bequeath to his two daughters. These sums and this estate were settled by good conveyances, which were certified to his Majesty by Sir Randolph Crewe, Sir Robert Hitcham, and Sir Henry Yelverton, the King’s sergeants and attorney; and eventually other possessions, and certain worldly honours, were added to these acquisitions. But the marriage, notwithstanding the success of these arrangements, was attended by misery. The young bride, in spite of her profession at the time of her nuptials, had always secretly hated the husband thus forced upon her choice. She had long given a preference to Sir Robert Howard; and the result was such as to embitter her own existence, and to degrade her into the lowest condition to which a woman can descend; her husband incurring a heavy penalty for his own compliance with the ambitious and mercenary views of Buckingham—that of being wedded to a loathing and, eventually, a faithless wife.
For some years, indeed, a hollow prosperity deceived superficial judges of the affairs of life as to the happiness of this ill-fated pair. A series of magnificent entertainments exalted the favour of Lady Hatton, one of the most odious female characters of that period, and humiliated her husband, who partook not of these festivities. All the great, the gay, the courtly, attended the banquets of this imperious woman: but her husband was never invited. Hatton House was graced repeatedly by the King, who knighted there several among the guests who were favoured by the lady of the mansion. In the words of an eye-witness, he made “four of her creatures knights,”[[204]] so resolved was he to mollify this virago. This shower of favours was the result entirely of the new connection with the Villiers family; and a marked condescension was shown on that day to the Lady Compton Villiers and her children, whom the King “praised and kissed, and blessed all those that wished them well.”[[205]]
Amid all this carousing, some mistakes—intentional ones, it may be suspected—were committed. The Earl of Pembroke, lord chamberlain, was not invited to the dinner; but, as well as the Earl of Arundel, went home to dine, and returned to wait upon the King—a trait of Lady Hatton’s meanness and haughtiness which must have contributed to the disgust felt for her conduct to her husband, “who was neither invited nor spoken of, but dined that day in the Temple as usual.”
It is but justice to James to state that he now began to entertain a serious intention of endeavouring to reconcile Sir Edward Coke to his lady; but he truly observed that it was a matter of time and difficulty. A cordial reconciliation had, however, taken place between Lady Hatton and her daughter.
Beneath all these forced reconciliations and specious protestations, a deep-seated disease—unsoundness of principle—was latent, only waiting for time and occasion to give it effect. All, indeed, seemed prosperous; in June, 1619, two years afterwards, Sir John Villiers was raised to the dignity of Baron Stoke, in the county of Buckingham, and created Viscount Purbeck,[[206]] in the county of Dorset, in spite of much reluctance on the part of Lady Hatton to give him up Purbeck; in case of her refusal, he was to have been styled Viscount Beaumont. It was long, also, before Lady Hatton consented to put Lord Purbeck in possession of Purbeck.[[207]] And the honour of being Viscountess of Westmorland was at the same time offered to Lady Hatton, but was refused, “because she would not come up to the price.”[[208]] This bait was held out in order to induce her to assure to her son-in-law 7,000l., in land, a year, so completely were the King’s interests those of the Villiers family. Had she been obstinate, it was determined to make her husband a baron to “spite her.”
The termination, however, of this ill-assorted union, thus formed, proves how impossible it is for the most successful match-makers to negotiate for happiness. The affection of Lady Purbeck for Sir Robert Howard had never died away, and it soon showed itself in acts of indiscretion, which gave occasion to much animadversion. In May, 1620, Lord Purbeck went abroad, upon pretext of drinking the waters at Spa, but, according to the account of Camden, to conceal his having “run mad with pride.” By another writer, his loss of reason is imputed to the improper support given to his wife in her outrage of public decorum, and consequent insult to his honour. Whatever may have been the cause of his infirmity, it is evident that the manœuvres of his family to increase their wealth and dignity, were by no means conducive to his felicity.[[209]]
During the whole of this discreditable transaction, and for a considerable time after it had ceased to amuse the court circles, the extraordinary influence of an imperious woman shows at once the weakness of James and the incipient degradation of Buckingham. Whether Lady Hatton’s influence proceeded from the expectations of further prosperity to the Villiers family, she having 3000l. a year in her own power to bequeath, or whether there existed in her any peculiar power to charm, is uncertain. In the inedited State Papers, there are to be found many scattered notices of the great court paid to this arrogant lady.
On the first of November, 1617, writes Mr. Chamberlain to Sir D. Carleton, “the streets being full of people, on account of the Lord Mayor’s passage to St. Paul’s,” the Earl of Buckingham, accompanied by the Marquis of Hamilton, Lord Compton, and the Lord Hay, “Sir Edward Cecil, and I know not whom, many more, to the number of twelve coaches, went to fetch the Lady Hatton from Sir William Craven’s, and brought her to her father’s, at Cecil House.” Here she remained some time, and went in “like state to the Court, and there was much graced by the King, who likewise reconciled her to the Queen, and made, at the same time, an atonement ’twixt her and the Lady Compton, and a perfect peace ’twixt her and her daughter, who would not be persuaded that she could forgive and forget, till, at parting, the King made her swear that she loved her as dearly as ever.”
During the course of the same month, another mark of favour was exhibited.[[210]]
“On Saturday last, Lady Hatton entertained the King at dinner. Sir Edward Coke gave it out it was for the reconciliation of him and his wife; but it seems he mistook the case, for she gave orders that neither he nor any of his sons or servants should enter her doors.” Then follows the contrast, and the poor insulted husband appears on the scene. “His ordinary residence is at the Temple, where very few come unto him, and he sendeth for his diet to Goodman Gibbes, a slovenly cook, in Ram Alley. I believe not that which some confidently report, that he sendeth his shoes to be cobbled, and that on fasting night, when he meant not to feast his men, he sent to his neighbour Gibbes for a breast of mutton.”
Upon the death of Secretary Winwood, Lady Hatton, it was supposed, would have had the nomination of his successor[successor], but the King seized this opportunity of again marking his regard for the favourite.
“They do all apprehend,” writes Mr. Chamberlain, “how much the Lady Hatton might prevail if she would set her whole mind and strength to it; and I think they have and will find means to put her in remembrance; but the voice goes that the place is not like to be disposed of in haste, for the King says he was never so well served as when he was his own secretary, and to that end hath delivered the seals, that were belonging to Sir Ralph Winwood, to the custody of the Earl of Buckingham, and there, perhaps, they shall remain till they both grow weary of them.”[[211]]
Sir Thomas Lake, according to the same correspondent, got possession of the lodging at Court usually assigned to the secretary; and it was said that he had the seals also, and a warrant for an allowance of 4,100l. a year for “intelligence;” but, adds Mr. Chamberlain, it falls not out so.
Lady Hatton was, it appears, extremely anxious to advance the interests of Sir Thomas Edmondes,[[212]] a desire which was doubtless favoured by Buckingham, to whose interests Edmondes was, at this time, devoted. It is satisfactory to find, in a subsequent letter, that Lady Hatton’s ascendancy did not last long. “That first heat being over,” writes a contemporary, “she may blow her nails twice before it kindle again.” Her aim, as was acknowledged on all hands, “was rather to pull down her husband” than to use her power and favour either for her own good, or her friends.[friends.][[213]] A singular combination of everything that was violent, and yet intriguing, rapacious, and yet lavish, seems to have been exhibited in the character of this leader of fashion in the Court of James the First.