At this crisis, however, arrived two Englishmen at the Earl of Bristol's residence at Madrid, under the names of John and Thomas Smith. To the ambassador's astonishment and chagrin, on appearing before him, they turned out to be no other than the Prince of Wales and Buckingham, who had arrived in disguise, and with only three attendants. But how this extraordinary and imprudent journey had come about requires to be told with some detail. It was said to have originated with Gondomar; it had been planned on his visit to London the preceding summer, and had since been stimulated by his letters. He is declared to have represented to the prince, who complained of delay, that all obstacles would vanish at once if he were to suddenly appear and press his own suit. The idea caught the imagination of the prince, and was warmly seconded by Buckingham, who not only longed to seek adventures among the beauties of Madrid, but also hoped to snatch the achievement of the match out of the hands of Bristol, whom he hated. If it were really the scheme of the wily Spaniard, he must have prided himself greatly on its success; a success, however, which produced its own ruin.
When the plan was first opened to James by Charles and Buckingham, he gave in to them without hesitation so much did he desire to have the affair settled. But on thinking it over alone, he was immediately sensible of the danger and the impolitic character of the enterprise. He therefore begged the prince and the favourite to give it up, pointing out, with great justice, how much they would put themselves in the power of the Spaniards, what advantages they would give them over them, and what a storm of anger and alarm would break out at home as soon as it became known. The two knights-errant bade him dismiss his fears, saying that all would go well and that they had selected Sir Francis Cottington and Sir Endymion Porter to attend them. James approved their choice, but commanded Cottington to tell him plainly what he thought of the project. Cottington, who did not seem yet to have been let into the secret, on hearing it, was much agitated and declared that it was a rash and perilous adventure; whereupon James threw himself upon his bed in an agony, crying—"I told you so; I told you so before. I shall be undone, and lose baby Charles." The prince and Buckingham were furious at the behaviour of Cottington, and handled him severely; but after all, James, with his usual weakness, gave his consent, and the travellers set forward on the 17th of February, 1623, and after an adventurous journey arrived at their destination.
Lord Bristol had despatched a messenger immediately on the prince reaching his house, informing the king that his son and friend were safe in Madrid, after a journey of sixteen days. Meanwhile, strange rumours began to run about the Spanish capital that some great man from England had arrived, supposed to be the king himself; and it was deemed best to make the fact known to the Court. Accordingly they sent for Gondomar, who hurried off to Court with the welcome news. There were first private but stately interviews, and then a public reception. The prince was first privately conducted to the Monastery of St. Jerome, from which the Spanish kings proceed to their coronation, and was then brought back publicly by the king, his two brothers, and the élite of the Spanish nobility. Charles rode at the king's right hand through the whole city to the palace, when he was conducted to the apartments appropriated to him. He had then a formal introduction to the queen and Infanta. Charles had two keys of gold given him, by which he could pass into the royal apartments at all hours, yet Spanish etiquette did not allow him to converse with the Infanta except in public. Tired of this restraint, Charles determined to break through the Court formality, and speak unceremoniously with his proposed wife; wherefore, hearing that Donna Maria used to go to the Casa de Campo on the other side of the river to gather Maydew, he rose early and went thither also. He passed through the house and garden, but found that the princess was in the orchard, and between him and her a high wall, and the door strongly bolted. Without further ceremony he got over the wall, dropped down, and seeing the princess at a distance, hastened towards her. But the princess, on perceiving him, gave a shriek and ran off; and the old marquis, her guardian, falling on his knees before the prince, entreated him to retire, as he should lose his head if he permitted the interview. Accordingly he let him out and rebolted the door.
Great were the public rejoicings, however, on account of this chivalric visit. The king professed to feel himself much complimented by the reliance of the English prince on the Spanish honour, on the earnestness it evinced in the prosecution of his suit; and the people as firmly calculated on his conversion to the Catholic faith. The prisons were thrown open; presents and favours were heaped upon him, the king insisted on his taking precedence of himself, and assured him that any petition which he presented to him for a whole month should be granted. There were bull-fights, tournaments, fencing matches, feasts, and religious processions, held in his honour and for his amusement.
But at home, dire was the consternation when it was known that Charles had gone off with slight attendance to Spain. It was stoutly declared that he would never escape alive from amongst the inquisitions and monks of that priest-ridden country, or if he did, it would only be as a Papist. The freedom of comment on the occasion in the pulpits caused James to issue an order through the Bishop of London that the clergy should not in their prayers "prejudicate the prince's journey, but only pray to God to return him home in safety again to us, and no more." Whereupon a preacher, with an air of great simplicity, prayed that the prince might return in safety again, and no more—that is, as it was understood, without a Catholic wife. Yet to pacify his subjects, the king informed them that he had sent after them two Protestant chaplains, together with all the stuff and ornaments fit for the service of God. And he added, "I have fully instructed them, so as all their behaviour and service shall, I hope, prove decent and agreeable to the purity of the primitive Church, and yet so near the Roman form as can lawfully be done. For," says this stern persecutor of Catholicism, "it hath ever been my way to go with the Church of Rome usque ad aras."
In so very complying a mood was James at this moment, that when these chaplains asked him what they were to do if they met the Host in the streets, he replied they must avoid meeting it whenever they could; when they could not, they must do as the people did there. And poor James soon found that he had need of all his moral pliability. The Spanish Court, as might have been foreseen, once having the prince in their power, resolved to benefit by it. They soon let the prince and Buckingham know that the Pope made grave difficulty about the dispensation, and the Papal nuncio was sternly set against it, and it was inquired how far the prince could go in concession. Buckingham wrote, therefore, to the king in these ominous words:—"We would gladly have your directions how far we may engage you in the acknowledgment of the Pope's special power, for we almost find, if you will be contented to acknowledge the Pope chief head under Christ, that the match will be made without him."
This was asking everything and James was brought to a stand. He wrote in reply that he did not know what they meant by acknowledging the Pope's spiritual supremacy. He was sure they would not have him renounce his religion for all the world. "Perhaps," he wrote, "you allude to a passage in my book against Cardinal Bellarmine, where I say that if the Pope would quit his godhead and usurping over kings, I would acknowledge him for chief bishop, to whom all appeals of Churchmen ought to lie en dernier ressort. That is the farthest my conscience would permit me to go; for I am not a monsieur who can shift his religion as easily as he can shift his shirt when he cometh from tennis."
PUBLIC RECEPTION OF PRINCE CHARLES IN MADRID. (See p. [492.])