There is some uncertainty as to the date of the earliest of Lord Arundel’s many visits to the Continent. According to Sir Edward Walker, he was in Italy in 1609. But that statement is open to doubt. There is proof that in 1612 he passed some time in Florence and in Siena. With Siena, as a place of residence, he was especially delighted. Of the foundation of his collections—to which his Italian journeys largely contributed—there are no distinct records until the following year.
Arundel to Rochester, MS. Cott. Titus, B. vii, f. 463.
The tour of 1613, followed immediately upon the marriage of the Princess Elizabeth with Frederick, Count Palatine of the Rhine. The royal pair were escorted into Germany by both Lord and Lady Arundel, who soon left the Rhine country on a new visit to Italy, and remained there until nearly the close of 1614. |Beginnings of the Arundelian Collections.| During that long residence the Earl established a wide intercourse with the most distinguished artists and archæologists of Italy, and made extensive purchases. The fame of his princely tastes was spread abroad. It soon became notorious that by this open-handed collector marbles, vases, coins, gems, manuscripts, pictures, were received with equal welcome. And from this time onwards many passages occur in his correspondence which indicate the keen and minute interest he took in the researches of the agents who, in various parts of the Continent, were busy on his behalf. The pursuit did not lack the special zest of home rivalry, as will be seen hereafter.
Not the least singular incident in the early part of Lord Arundel’s life was his commitment to the Tower, at a moment when his favour with King James was at its height.
1621, May.
The quarrel between Lords Arundel and Spencer.
In one of the many impassioned parliamentary debates which occurred during the session of 1621 an allusion was made by Lord Spencer to the unhappy fate of two famous ancestors of the Earl of Arundel, and it was made in a way which induced the Earl to utter an unwise and unjust retort. The matter immediately under discussion was a very small one, but it had grown out of the exciting question of monopolies, and it was mixed up with the yet more exciting question of the overweening powers entrusted by the King to Buckingham. In the course of an examination at the bar of the House of Lords about the grant of a patent for licensing inns, Sir Henry Yelverton had made a furious attack upon the Duke. The attack was still more an insult to the House, than to the King’s favourite, and it had been repeated. It was proposed, on a subsequent day, to call Yelverton to the bar for the third time, in order to see if he would then offer the apology which before he had refused. Arundel opposed the motion. ‘We have his words; we need hear no more,’ he said. Lord Spencer rose to answer: ‘I remember that two of the Earl’s ancestors—the Earl of Surrey, and the Duke of Norfolk, were unjustly condemned to death, without being heard.’ The implied parallel was a silly one, but its weakness and irrelevancy did not restrain Arundel’s anger. ‘My Lords,’ said he, ‘I do acknowledge that my ancestors have suffered. It may be for doing the king and the country good service; and at such time, perhaps, as when the ancestors of the Lord that spake last kept sheep.’ The speaker failed to see that by using such words he had committed exactly the same offence as that for which he had, but a moment before, censured the late Attorney-General, and had moved the House to punish him. On all sides, he was advised to apologise. He resisted all entreaty. When committed to the Tower, he still refused submission. Both the King and the Prince of Wales had to intercede for him with the House before he could regain his liberty.
With rare exception, the public incidents of Lord Arundel’s life during the remainder of the reign of James are such as offer little interest, save as illustrations of character. In that respect, many of them testify to the failing which appears so strikingly in the story of the quarrel with Lord Spencer. Some noble qualities lost part of their real lustre when pride was so plainly seen in their company. All that was best in Lord Arundel revolted at the grossness of the Stuart court. He often increased his own disgust by contrasting what he saw at Whitehall with the memories of his youth. His office of Earl Marshal precluded him from very long absences. Sometimes, when forced to mingle with courtiers for whose society he had little liking, he rebuked their want of dignity by exaggerating his own dignity into haughtiness. Against failings of this kind we have to set many merits, and amongst them a merit eminently rare in that age. Arundel was free from covetousness—save in that special sense in which covetousness, it may be feared, cleaves to all ‘collectorship.’
Adventure of Lady Arundel at Venice.
In 1622 some anxiety was occasioned to Lord Arundel by a singular adventure which befell his wife during her residence in the Venetian territory, whither (in the course of a long Italian tour) she had gone to watch over the education of their sons; little anticipating, it may well be supposed, that her name and that of Lord Arundel, would be made to figure in Venetian records in connection with the strange story of the conspirator Antonio Foscarini.