After making some stay in Venice, Lady Arundel had taken a villa on the Brenta, about ten miles from the City.
In April, 1622, she was on her way from this villa to the Mocenigo Palace, her residence in Venice, when she was met by the Secretary of Sir Henry Wotton, English ambassador to the Republic. The secretary said that he was sent by the ambassador to inform her that the Venetian Senate had resolved to command her ladyship to leave their city and territory within a few days, on the ground of a discovery that Foscarini had carried on some of his traitorous intrigues with foreign ministers—and more especially with those of the Pope and Emperor—at her house. |1622, April.| To this the messenger added, that it was Sir Henry Wotton’s most earnest advice that Lady Arundel should not return to Venice, but should remain at Dolo, until she heard from him again. Having listened to this strange communication in private, she desired the secretary to repeat it in the presence of some of the persons who attended her. Then she hastened to the ambassador’s house at Venice. Her interview with Wotton is thus, in substance, narrated by Lord Arundel, when telling the story to his friend the Earl of Carlisle, then ambassador to the Court of France.
‘Lady Arundel went immediately to my Lord Ambassador [Wotton], telling him she came to hear from his own mouth what she had heard from his servant’s.’ When Sir Henry had repeated the statement of his secretary, the Lady asked him how long the accusation and the resolution of the Senate had been known to him. He replied that reports of the alleged intercourse with Foscarini had reached him some fifteen days before, or more; but that of the resolution of the Senate he had heard only on that morning. ‘She asked him why he did never let her understand of the report all that time? He said because she spake not to him of it.’ To Lady Arundel’s pithy rejoinder that it would have been hard for her to speak of a matter of which she had never heard the least rumour until that day, and to her further protestation that she had not even seen Foscarini since the time of his visit to England, some years earlier, Sir Henry replied, ‘I believe there was no such matter;’ but he refused to disclose the name of the person who had first spoken to him of the accusation. To his renewed advice that her ladyship should not stir farther in the matter, she declined to accede. |MS. Addit., 4176, § 156. (B. M.)| It concerned her honour, and her husband’s honour, she said, to have public conference with the Doge and Council without delay. From carrying out this resolve the ambassador found it impossible to dissuade her.
That conference took place on the following day with the remarkable result of a public declaration by the Doge that no mention had ever been made of Lady Arundel’s name, or of the name of any person nearly or remotely connected with her, either at any stage of the proceedings against Foscarini, or in any of the discussions which had arisen out of his conspiracy.
When the audience given to Lady Arundel by the Doge had been made the subject of a communication to the Senate, that body instructed the Venetian Ambassador in England to confer with Lord Arundel. |Deliberations of the Senate of Venice; printed by Hardy, in Report on Venetian Archives, pp. 78–84 (1866).| ‘You are,’ said they, ‘to speak to the Earl Marshal in such strong and earnest language that he may retain no doubt of the invalidity of the report, and may remain perfectly convinced of the esteem and cordial affection entertained towards him by the Republic; augmented as such feelings are by the open and dignified mode of life led here by the Countess, and in which she hastens the education of her sons in the sciences to make them—as they will become—faithful imitators of their meritorious father and their ancestors.’
Sir Henry Wotton’s motive in the strange part taken by him in this incident is nowhere disclosed. He had to listen to several indirect reproofs, both from the Doge and from the Senate, which were none the less incisive on account of the courtly language in which they were couched.
Two years afterwards, the Earl was himself hastily summoned to the Continent to attend the death-bed of his eldest son, James, Lord Maltravers, who is described by a contemporary writer as a ‘gentleman of rare wit and extraordinary expectation.’ |Death of Arundel’s eldest son.| The Countess and her two elder sons, James and Henry, were then returning from Italy to England. |Royal license to travel, July, 1624.| They passed through Belgium in order to visit the Queen of Bohemia. Whilst at Ghent, upon the journey, Lord Maltravers was seized with the smallpox. He died in that city in July, 1624. The affliction was acutely felt. |Domestic Corresp. James I, vol. cxlix, § 67; vol. clii, § 55.| ‘My sorrow makes me incapable of this world’s affairs,’ wrote the Earl to one of his political correspondents, in the autumn of the year. To the outer world, reserved manners and a stately demeanour often gave a very false impression of the man himself. Throughout his life, Arundel’s affectionate nature was so evinced in his deeds, and in his domestic intercourse, as to stand in little need of illustration from his words. Mainly, as it seems, to this characteristic quality he was soon to owe a second imprisonment in the Tower of London.
The Stuart Marriage and its Results.
The new Lord Maltravers shortly after his return to England fell in love with the Lady Elizabeth Stuart, daughter of Esme, Duke of Lennox. Arundel had formed other wishes and plans for the son who was now his heir, and there is evidence that he was reluctant to give his consent to the prosecution of the suit. Nor did the kinship of the prospective bride with King Charles appear to him, it seems, at all an inviting circumstance in the matter. So long as Buckingham stood at the helm of affairs Arundel was likely to have a very small share in the new king’s affections, so that pride and policy as well as inclination stood in the way of his approval. He knew also that it was Charles’ eager wish that his kinswoman should marry Lord Lorne, the eldest son of the Earl of Argyle. But the young lover was ardent, and his entreaties unintermitting. At length, we are told, he not only wrung from the Earl the words ‘You may try your fortune with the lady that you seem to love so well,’ but prevailed upon him to confer paternally on the subject with the lady’s aunt and guardian, the Duchess of Richmond. Maltravers, meanwhile, had resolved to incur no risk of defeat by waiting for a royal assent to his marriage. He had long before won his cause with the lady, but had kept the secret. Two passionate lovers[[32]] went gravely through the ceremony of a formal introduction to each other.
Maltravers then induced her to consent to a private marriage. When Lord Arundel was informed of the fact he immediately disclosed his knowledge to the King, and besought pardon for the culprits. But Charles’ wrath was unbounded. He placed the new-married pair under restraint in London. He committed Arundel himself to the Tower. He commanded Lady Arundel to remain at Horsley, in Surrey, a seat belonging to the Dowager Countess, her mother-in-law.