Though made and upheld as
a king, in consequence of a successful rebellion against the monarchical
principle, James was early inspired with a high sense of his royal
powers and privileges, probably by some of those individuals who are
never wanting around the persons of young princes, let their education
be ever so carefully conducted. Even before attaining the age of twelve,
he had become the centre of a little knot of courtiers, who clustered
about him at his residence in Stirling castle, and plotted schemes for
transferring the reins of government into his own hands. Morton
permitted himself to be surprised in 1578 by this party, who for some
time conducted the affairs of state in the name of the king, as if he
had been in full possession of his birth-right. Morton, however, soon
after regained nearly all his wonted ascendancy, and it was not till two
or three years later that the king became completely emancipated from
this powerful agent of the English queen. A young scion of nobility,
named captain Stuart, from his commanding the king’s guards, and Esme,
earl of Lennox, the king’s cousin, were his chief instruments in
obtaining the sovereign power, and in raising that prosecution against
Morton, which ended in his execution, June 2, 1581. The former is
represented as a profligate adventurer, who studied only how, by
flattering the king and enforcing his despotic views, to promote his own
interest. Lennox was a gentler and worthier person, but was obnoxious to
popular odium, on account of his professing the catholic faith. The
protestant and English interest soon rallied, and, in August, 1552, took
place the celebrated Raid of Ruthven, by which a few presbyterian
nobles, headed by the earl of Gowrie, were enabled to take possession of
the royal person, and use his authority for some time in behalf of
liberal government and their own religious principles, while Stuart and
Lennox were forbidden his presence.
It was not till June,
1583, that James emancipated himself from a control which, however well
he appeared to bear it, was far from agreeable to him. Lennox had now
been banished to France, where he died of a broken heart; Stuart was
created earl of Arran on the ruins of the Hamilton family, and became
almost solo counsellor to the young monarch. The nobles who had seized
the king at Ruthven, were pardoned; but Gowrie, having soon after made a
second and unsuccessful attempt, was beheaded at Stirling. During the
interval between June, 1583, and November, 1585, the government was of a
decidedly anti-popular and anti-presbyterian character,—Arran being
permitted to act entirely as he pleased. The presbyterian nobles,
however, who had fled into England, were, at the latter
period, enabled by Elizabeth to invade their own country, with such a
force as overturned the power of the unworthy favourite, and
re-established a system agreeable to the clergy and people, and more
closely respondent to the wishes of Elizabeth. In this way James grew up
to man’s estate.
In 1584, when eighteen
years of age, he made his first appearance as an author, by publishing a
small thin quarto, entitled "Essayes of a Prentice in the Divine Art of
Poesie, with the Rewlis and Cauteles to be pursued and avoided." This
work consists of a mixture of poetry and prose; the poems being chiefly
a series of sonnets, which bear very much the appearance of school
exercises; while the prose consists of a code of laws for the
construction of verse according to the ideas of that age. There is
little in the king’s style or his ideas to please the present age; yet,
compared with the efforts of contemporary authors, these poems may be
said to bear a respectable appearance.
The main effect of the
late revolution was to re-establish the English influence, which had
been deranged by the ascendancy of captain Stuart. In June, 1586,
James entered into an arrangement with Elizabeth, by which, in
consideration of a pension of five thousand pounds, rendered necessary
by his penurious circumstances, he engaged to support England against
the machinations of the catholic powers of Europe. It was also part of
this treaty, that a correspondence which he had entered into with his
mother, should be broken off; and he even submitted so far to the
desires of his new superior, as to write a disrespectful letter to that
unhappy princess, who replied in an eloquent epistle, threatening to
denounce him as a usurper, and load him with a parent’s curse. James, in
reality, during the whole of his occupancy of the Scottish throne, was a
mere tool in the hands of one party or another; and had no personal
influence or independence whatever till the advanced age of Elizabeth
gave him near hopes of the English crown. Great care is therefore to be
taken in judging of his actions, lest that be attributed to his own
vicious will, which was only the dictate of a political system, of which
he was the apparent head, but the real slave. In the winter of 1586-7,
he had to endure the painful reflection, that his mother was threatened
with, and ultimately brought to the scaffold, without his being able to
make the least movement in her favour. It is but justice to him to say,
that so far from his manifesting the levity on this subject attributed
to him by several writers, he appears from documents of respectable
authority, to have manifested the highest indignation, and a degree of
grief hardly to be expected from him, considering that he was not
conscious of having ever seen his parent. Mary, in her last prayer in
the hail of Fotheringay, while stretched before the block, entreated the
favour of God towards her son; which shows that she had not ultimately
found proper cause for putting her threat into execution.
In 1588, while the shores
of England were threatened with the Spanish armada, James fulfilled, as
far as he could, the treaty into which he had entered with Elizabeth, by
using his best exertions to suppress the movements of a powerful
catholic party among his own subjects, in support of the invasion. In
return for this, Elizabeth permitted him to take a wife; and his choice
ultimately fell upon the princess Anne of Denmark, second daughter of
the deceased Frederick the second. He was married by proxy in August,
1589; but the princess having been delayed in Norway by a storm, which
threatened to detain her for the winter, he gallantly crossed the seas
to Upslo, in order to consummate the match. After spending some months
at the Danish court, he returned to Scotland in May, 1590; when the
reception vouchsafed to the royal pair was fully such as to justify an
expression used by James in one of his letters, that "a king with a new
married wyfe did not come hame every day."
The king had an
illegitimate cousin, Francis, earl of Bothwell, who now for some years
embittered his life by a series of plots and assaults for which there is
no parallel even in Scottish history. Bothwell had been spared by the
king’s goodness in 1589, from the result of a sentence for treason,
passed on account of his concern in a catholic conspiracy. Soon after
James returned from Denmark, it was discovered that he had tampered with
professing witches to take away the king’s life by necromancy. He at
first proposed to stand a trial for this alleged offence, but
subsequently found it necessary to make his escape. His former sentence
was then permitted to take effect, and he became, in the language of the
times, a broken man. Repeatedly, however, did this bold adventurer
approach the walls of Edinburgh, and even assail the king in his palace;
nor could the limited powers of the sovereign either accomplish his
seizure, or frighten him out of the kingdom. He even contrived at one
time to regain his place in the king’s council, and remained for several
months in the enjoyment of all his former honours, till once more
expelled by a party of his enemies. The king appears to have purposely
been kept in a state of powerlessness by his subjects; even the strength
necessary to execute the law upon the paltriest occasions was denied to
him; and his clergy took every opportunity of decrying his government,
and diminishing the respect of his people,—lest, in becoming stronger or
more generally reverenced, he should have used his increased force
against the liberal interest, and the presbyterian religion, if he could
have been depended upon as a thorough adherent of these abstractions,
there can be no doubt that his Scottish reign would have been less
disgraced by the non-execution of the laws. But then, was his first
position under the regents and the protestant nobles of a kind
calculated to attach him sincerely to that party? or can it be decidedly
affirmed that the zeal of the clergy of those rough and difficult times,
was sufficiently tempered with human kindness, to make a young prince
prefer their peculiar system to one which addressed him in a more
courteous manner, and was more favourable to that regal power, the
feebleness of which had hitherto seemed the cause of all his distresses
and all his humiliation?
In 1585, while under the
control of Aryan, he had written a paraphrase and commentary on the
Revelation of St John, which, however, was not completed or published
for some years after. In 1591, he produced a second volume of verse,
entitled "Poetical Exercises;" in the preface to which he informs the
reader, as an apology for inaccuracies, that "scarcelie but at stolen
moments had leisure to blenk upon any paper, and yet nocht that with
free unvexed spirit." He also appears to have at this time proceeded
some length with his translation of the Psalms into Scottish verse. It
is curious that, while the king manifested, in his literary studies,
both the pure sensibilities of the poet and the devout aspirations of
the saint, his personal manners were coarse, his amusements of no
refined character, and his speech rendered odious by common swearing.
It is hardly our duty to
enter into a minute detail of the oscillations of the Scottish church,
during this reign, between presbytery and episcopacy. In proportion as
the king was weak, the former system prevailed; and in proportion as he
gained strength from the prospect of the English succession, and other
causes, the episcopal polity was re-imposed. We are also disposed to
overlook the troubles of the catholic nobles—Huntly, Errol, and Angus,
who, for some obscure plot in concert with Spain, were persecuted to as
great an extent as the personal favour of the king, and his fear of
displeasing the English papists, would permit. The leniency shown by the
king to these grandees procured him the wrath of the church, and led to
the celebrated tumult of the 17th of December, 1596, in which the clergy
permitted themselves to make so unguarded an appearance, as to furnish
their sovereign with the means of checking their power, without
offending the people.
In February, 1594, a son,
afterwards the celebrated prince Henry, was born to the king at Stirling
castle; this was followed some years after by the birth of a daughter,
Elizabeth, whose fate, as the queen of Bohemia, and ancestress of the
present royal family of Britain, gives rise to so many varied
reflections. James wrote a treatise of counsel for his son, under the
title of "Basilicon Doron," which, though containing some passages
offensive to the clergy, is a work of much good sense, and conveys, upon
the whole, a respectable impression, at once of the author’s abilities,
and of his moral temperament. It was published in 1599, and is said to
have gained him a great accession of esteem among the English, for whose
favour, of course, he was anxiously solicitous.
Few incidents of note
occurred in the latter part of the king’s Scottish reign. The principal
was the famous conspiracy of the earl of Gowrie and his brother, sons of
the earl beheaded in 1584, which was developed—if we may speak of it in
such a manner—on the 5th of August, 1600. This affair has of late been
considerably elucidated by Robert Pitcairn, Esq., in his laborious work,
the "Criminal Trials of Scotland," though it is still left in some
measure as a question open to dispute. The events, so far as
ascertained, were as follows.
Early on the morning of
the 5th of August, 1600, Alexander, Master of Ruthven, with only two
followers, Andrew Henderson and Andrew Ruthven, rode from Perth to
Falkland, where king James was at that time residing. He arrived there
about seven o’clock, and stopping at a house in the vicinity of the
palace, sent Henderson forward to learn the motions of the king. His
messenger returned quickly with the intelligence, that his majesty was
just departing for the chase. Ruthven proceeded immediately to the
palace, where he met James in front of the stable. They spoke together
for about a quarter of an hour. None of the attendants overheard the
discourse, but it was evident from the king’s laying his hand on the
master’s shoulder, and clapping his back, that the matter of it pleased
him. The hunt rode on, and Ruthven joined the train; first, however,
despatching Henderson to inform his brother that his majesty was coming
to Perth with a few attendants, and to desire him to cause dinner to be
prepared. A buck was slain about ten o’clock, when the king desired the
duke of Lennox and the earl of Mar to accompany him to Perth, to speak
with the earl of Gowrie. The master of Ruthven now despatched his other
attendant to give the earl notice of the king’s approach; and
immediately afterwards James and he set off at a rate that threw behind
the royal attendants, who lost some time in changing horses. When the
duke of Lennox overtook them, the king, with great glee,
told him that he was riding to Perth to get a pose
(treasure). He then asked the duke’s opinion of Alexander Ruthven, which
proving favourable, he proceeded to repeat the story which that young
man had told him, of his having the previous evening surprised a man
with a large sum of money on his person. The duke expressed his opinion
of the improbability of the tale, and some suspicion of Ruthven’s
purpose; upon which the king desired him to follow when he and Ruthven
should leave the hall—an order which he repeated after his arrival in
the earl of Gowrie’s house.
Meantime, Henderson, on
his arrival at Perth, found the elder Ruthven in his chamber, speaking
upon business with two gentlemen. Gowrie drew him aside the moment he
entered, and asked whether he brought any letter or message from his
brother. On learning that the king was coming, he took the messenger
into his cabinet, and inquired anxiously in what manner the master had
been received, and what persons were in attendance upon his majesty.
Returning to the chamber, he made an apology to the two gentlemen, and
dismissed them. Henderson then went to his own house. When he returned,
in about an hour, the earl desired him to arm himself, as he had to
apprehend a Highlander in the Shoe-gate. The master of the household
being unwell, the duty of carrying up the earl’s dinner devolved upon
Henderson. He performed this service about half past twelve; and
afterwards waited upon the earl and some friends who were dining with
him. They had just sat down when Andrew Ruthven entered, and whispered
something in the earl’s ear, who, however, seemed to give no heed. As
the second course was about to be set upon the table, the master of
Ruthven, who had left the king about a mile from Perth, and rode on
before, entered and announced his majesty’s approach. This was the first
intelligence given the inhabitants of Gowrie house of the king’s visit,
for Gowrie had kept not only his coining, but also the master’s visit to
Falkland, a profound secret. The earl and his visitors, with their
attendants, and some of the citizens among whom the news had spread,
went out to meet the king.
The street in which
Gowrie house formerly stood runs north and south, and parallel to the
Tay. The house was on the side next the river, built so as to form three
sides of a square, the fourth side, that which abutted on the street,
being formed by a wall, through which the entry into the interior court,
or close, was by a gate. The scene of the subsequent events was the
south side of the square. The interior of this part of the edifice
contained, in the first story, a dining-room, looking out upon the
river, a hall in the centre, and a room at the further end looking out
upon the Street, each of them occupying the whole breadth of the
building, and opening into each other. The second story consisted of a
gallery occupying the space of the dining-room and hall below, and at
the street end of this gallery, a chamber, in the north-west corner of
which was a circular closet, formed by a turret which overhung the outer
wall, in which were two long narrow windows, the one looking towards the
spy-tower, (a strong tower built over one of the city-gates,) the other
looking out upon the court, but visible from the street before the gate.
The access to the hall and gallery was by a large turnpike stair in the
southeast corner of the court. The hall likewise communicated with the
garden, which lay between the house and the river, by a door opposite to
that which opened from the turnpike, and an outward stair. The access to
the chamber in which was the round closet, was either through the
gallery, or by means of a smaller turnpike (called the black turnpike)
which stood half-way betwixt the principal one and the street
The unexpected arrival of
the king caused a considerable commotion in Gowrie’s establishment.
Craigingelt, the master of the household, was obliged to leave his sick
bed, and bestir himself. Messengers were despatched through Perth to
seek, not for meat, for of that there seems to have been plenty, but for
some delicacy fit to be set upon the royal table. The baillies and other
dignitaries of Perth, as also some noblemen who were resident in the
town, came pouring in,—some to pay their respects to his majesty, others
to stare at the courtiers. Amid all this confusion, somewhat more than
an hour elapsed before the repast was ready. To judge by the king’s
narrative, and the eloquent orations of Mr Patrick Galloway, this
neglect on the part of the earl seems to have been regarded as not the
least criminal part of his conduct: and with justice; for his royal
highness had been riding hard since seven o’clock, and it was past two
before he could get a morsel, which, when it did come, bore evident
marks of being hastily prepared.
As soon as the king was
set down to dinner, the earl sent for Andrew Henderson, whom he
conducted up to the gallery, where the master was waiting for them.
After some short conversation, during which Gowrie told Henderson to do
any thing his brother bade him, the younger Ruthven locked this
attendant into the little round closet within the gallery chamber, and
left him there. Henderson began now, according to his own account, to
suspect that something wrong was in agitation, and set himself to pray,
in great perturbation of mind. Meanwhile, the earl of Gowrie returned to
take his place behind the chair of his royal guest. When the king had
dined, and Lennox, Mar, and the other noblemen in waiting, had retired
from the dining-room to the hall to dine in their turn, Alexander
Ruthven came and whispered to the king, to find some means of getting
rid of his brother the earl, from whom he had all along pretended great
anxiety to keep the story of the found treasure a secret. The king
filled a bumper, and, drinking it off, desired Gowrie to carry his
pledge to the noblemen in the hall. While they were busy returning the
health, the king and the master passed quietly through the hall, and
ascended the great stair which led to the gallery. They did not,
however, pass altogether unobserved, and some of the royal train made an
attempt to follow them, but were repelled by Ruthven, who alleged the
king’s wish to be alone. From the gallery they passed into the chamber
at the end of it, and the door of this room Ruthven appears to have
locked behind him.
When the noblemen had
dined, they inquired after their master, but were informed by Gowrie
that he had retired, and wished to be private. The earl immediately
called for the keys of the garden, whither he was followed by Lennox and
part of the royal train; whilst Mar, with the rest, remained in the
house. John Ramsay, a favourite page of the king, says in his
deposition, that, on rising from table, he had agreed to take charge of
a hawk for one of the servants, in order to allow the man to go to
dinner. He seems, while thus engaged, to have missed Gowrie’s
explanation of the king’s absence, for he sought his majesty in the
dining-room, in the garden, and afterwards in the gallery. He had never
before seen this gallery, which is said—we know not upon what
authority--to have been richly adorned with paintings by the earl’s
father, and he staid some time admiring it. On coming down stairs, he
found the whole of the king’s attendants hurrying towards the outer
gate, and was told by Thomas Cranstone, one of the earl’s servants, that
the king had rode on before. Ramsay, on hearing this, ran to the stable
where his horse was. Lennox and Mar, who had also heard the report of
the king’s departure, asked the porter, as they were passing the gate,
whetner the king were indeed forth. The man replied in the negative.
Gowrie checked him with considerable harshness, and affirmed that the
king had passed out by the back gate. "That is impossible, my lord,"
answered the porter, "for it is locked, and the key is in my pocket."
Gowrie, somewhat confused, said he would return and learn the truth of
the matter. He came back almost instantly, affirming positively that the
king had ridden out by the back gate. The greater part of the company
were now assembled on the High Street, in front of the house, waiting
for their horses, and discussing how they were to seek the king. At this
moment, the king’s voice was heard, crying—"I am murdered! Treason! My
lord of Mar, help! help!" Lennox and Mar, with their attendants, rushed
through the gateway into the court, and up the principal stair. Sir
Thomas Erskine and his brother James, seized the earl of Gowrie,
exclaiming, "Traitor! this is thy deed!" Some of the earl’s servants
rescued their master, who was, however, thrown down in the scuffle, and
refused admittance to the inner court. On recovering his feet, he
retired a short way; then drawing his sword and dagger, he cried, "I
will be in my own house, or die by the way."
During these proceedings,
the king had found himself rather critically circumstanced. Alexander
Ruthven, having locked the door of the gallery chamber, led the way to
the round closet. James was not a little astonished when, instead of the
captive he expected, he saw a man armed at all points except his head.
He was more astonished when the master, putting on his hat, drew the
man’s dagger, and presented it to his breast, saying, "Sir, you must be
my prisoner! remember my father’s death!" James attempted to
remonstrate, but was interrupted with "Hold your tongue, sir, or by
Christ you shall die!" But here Henderson wrenched the dagger from
Ruthven’s hand, and the king, then resuming his remonstrances, was
answered that his life was not what was sought. The master even took off
his hat when the king, who, amid all his perturbation, forgot not his
princely demeanour, reminded him of the impropriety of wearing it in his
presence. He then requested James to give him his word not to open the
window, nor call for assistance, whilst he went to bring his brother,
the earl, who was to determine what farther should be done. Ruthven then
left the closet, locking the door behind him; but, according to
Henderson’s belief, went no farther than the next room. This is more
than probable; for, by the nearest calculation, Ramsay must have been at
that time still in the gallery. The master re-entered, therefore, almost
instantly, and telling the king there was now but one course left,
produced a garter, with which he attempted to bind his majesty’s hands.
James freed his left with a violent exertion, exclaiming, "I am a free
prince, man! I will not be bound!" Ruthven, without answering, seized
him by the throat with one hand, while he thrust the other into his
mouth, to prevent his crying. In the struggle which ensued, the king was
driven against the window which overlooked the court, and, at that
moment, Henderson thrust his arm over the master’s shoulder and pushed
up the window, which afforded the king an opportunity of calling for
assistance. The master, thereupon, said to Henderson, "Is there no help
in thee? Thou wilt cause us all to die:" and tremblingly, between
excitement and exertion, he attempted to draw his sword. The king,
perceiving his intent, laid hold of his hand; and thus clasped in a
death-wrestle, they reeled out of the closet into the chamber. The king
had got Ruthven’s head under his arm; whilst Ruthven, finding himself
held down almost upon his knees, was pressing upwards with his hand
against the king’s face, when, at this critical moment, John Ramsay, the
page, who had heard from the street the king’s cry for help, and who had
got before Mar and Lennox, by running up the black turnpike formerly
mentioned, while they took the principal staircase, rushed against the
door of the chamber and burst it open. The king panted out, when he saw
his page, "Fy! strike him low! he has secret armour on." At which
Ramsay, casting from him the hawk which still sat upon his hand, drew
his dagger and stabbed the master. The next moment, the king, exerting
all his strength, threw him from him down stairs. Ramsay ran to a
window, and called upon Sir Thomas Erskine, and one or two who were with
him, to come up the turnpike. Erskine was first, and as Ruthven
staggered past him on the stair, wounded and bleeding, he desired those
who followed to strike the traitor. This was done, and the young man
fell, crying, "Alas! I had not the wyte of it."
The king was safe for the
mean time, but there was still cause for alarm. Only four of his
attendants had reached him; and he was uncertain whether the incessant
attempts of Mar and Lennox’s party to break open the door by which the
chamber communicated with the gallery, were made by friend or foe. At
this moment the alarm bell rang out, and the din of the gathering
citizens, who were as likely, for any thing the king knew, to side with
their provost, Gowrie, as with himself was heard from the town. There
was, besides, a still more immediate danger.
Gowrie, whom we left
attempting to force his way into the house, was met at the gate by the
news that his brother had fallen. Violet Ruthven, and other women
belonging to the family, were already wailing his death, screaming their
curses up to the king’s party in the chamber, and mixing their shrill
execrations with the fierce din which shook the city. The earl, seconded
by Cranstone, one of his attendants, forced his way to the foot of the
black turnpike, at which spot lay the master’s body. "Whom have we
here?" said the retainer, for the face was turned downwards. "Up the
stair!" was Gowrie’s brief and stern reply. Cranstone, going up before
his master, found, on rushing into the chamber, the swords of Sir Thomas
Erskine, and Herries, the king’s physician, drawn against him. They were
holding a parley in this threatening attitude, when Gowrie entered, and
was instantly attacked by Ramsay. The earl fell after a smart contest.
Ramsay immediately turned upon Cranstone, who had proved fully a match
for the other two, and having wounded him severely, forced him finally
to retreat.
All this time they who
were with the duke of Lennox had kept battering at the gallery-door of
the chamber with hammers, but in vain. The partition was constructed of
boards, and as the whole wall gave way equally before the blows, the
door could not be forced. The party with the king, on the other hand,
were afraid to open, lest they should thus give admission to enemies. A
servant was at last despatched round by the turnpike, who assured his
majesty that it was the duke of Lennox and the earl of Mar who were so
clamorous for admission. The hammers were then handed through below the
door, and the bolts speedily displaced. When these noblemen were
admitted, they found the king unharmed, and his brave deliverers. The
door, however, which entered from the turnpike, had been closed upon a
body of Gowrie’s retainers, who were calling for their master, and
striking through below the door with their pikes and halberds. The
clamour from the town continued, and the voices from the court were
divided,——part calling for the king, part for their provost, the earl of
Gowrie. Affairs, however, soon took a more decided turn. They who
assaulted the door grew tired of their ineffectual efforts, and
withdrew; and almost at the same moment the voices of baillies Ray and
Young were heard from the street, calling to know if the king were safe,
and announcing that they were there, with the loyal burgesses of Perth,
for his defence. The king gratified them by showing himself at the
window, requesting them to still the tumult. At the command of the
magistrates the crowd became silent, and gradually dispersed. In the
course of a few hours, peace was so completely re-established, that the
king and his company were able to take horse for Falkland.
This bird’s-eye view of
the occurrences of the fifth of August, will be found correct in the
main. Although some details have been necessarily omitted, they are
sufficient to establish a preconcerted scheme between the brothers
against the king, but of what nature, and to what purpose, it would be
difficult, without further evidence, to say. Of all the people that day
assembled in Gowrie’s house, not one seems to have been in the secret.
Henderson, to whom an important share in the execution of the attempt
had been assigned, was kept in ignorance to the last moment, and then he
counteracted, instead of furthering their views. Even with regard to
Cranstone, the most busy propagator of the rumour of the king’s
departure, it is uncertain whether he may not have spread the report in
consequence of the asseverations of his master; and we have his solemn
declaration, at a time when he thought himself upon his death-bed, that
he had no previous knowledge of the plot. The two Ruthvens of Freeland,
Eviot, and Hugh Moncrieff, who took the most active share in
endeavouring to stir the citizens up to mutiny to revenge the earl and
his brother, may have been actuated, for any evidence we have to the
contrary, solely by the feelings of reckless and devoted retainers, upon
seeing their master’s fall in an affray whose origin and cause they knew
not. To this evidence, partly negative, and partly positive, may be
added the deposition of William Rynd, who said, when examined at
Falkland, that he had heard the earl declare,—"He was not a wise man,
who, having intended the execution of a high and dangerous purpose,
should communicate the same to any but himself; because, keeping it to
himself, it could not be discovered nor disappointed." Moreover, it does
not sufficiently appear, from the deportment of the master, that they
aimed at the king’s life. He spoke only of making him prisoner, and
grasped his sword only when the king had made his attendants aware of
his situation. At the same time, it was nowhere discovered that any
measures had been taken for removing the royal prisoner to a place of
security; and to keep him in a place so open to observation as Gowrie
house, was out of the question. Without some other evidence, therefore,
than that to which we have as yet been turning our attention, we can
scarcely look upon these transactions otherwise than as a fantastic
dream, which is incoherent in all its parts, and the absurdity of which
is only apparent when we reflect how irreconcilable it is with the
waking world around us.
The letters of Logan of
Restalrig, which were not discovered till eight years afterwards, throw
some further light upon the subject, though not so much as could be
wished. Of their authenticity little doubt can be entertained, when we
consider the number and respectability of the witnesses who swore
positively to their being in Logan’s handwriting. It appears from these
letters that Gowrie and Logan had agreed in some plot against the king.
It appears, also, that Logan was in correspondence with some third
person who had assented to the enterprise. It would almost seem, from
Logan’s third letter, that this person resided at Falkland: "If I kan
nocht win to Falkland the first nycht, I sall he tymelie in St
Johnestoun on the morne." And it is almost certain from the fifth
letter, that he was so situated as to have oral communication with
Gowrie, the master of Ruthven: "Pray let his lo, be qwik, and bid M. A.
remember on the sport he tald me." It does not appear, however, that any
definite plan had been resolved upon. The sea excursion, which Mr
Lawson, in his History of the Gowrie Conspiracy, supposes to have been
contemplated with the design of conveying James to Fast castle, was only
meant to afford facilities for a meeting of the conspirators with a view
to deliberation Logan’s fifth letter is dated as late as the last of
July, and yet it does not appear that the writer knew at that time of
the Perth project. Taking these facts in conjunction with the
hair-brained character of Gowrie’s attempt, it seems highly probable,
that although some scheme might be in agitation with Logan, and perhaps
some other conspirators, the outrage of the fifth of August was the rash
and premature undertaking of two hot-blooded fantastical young men, who
probably wished to distinguish themselves above the rest of their
associates in the plot.
The very scanty
information that we possess respecting the character and previous habits
of these two brothers, is quite in accordance with this view of the
matter, and goes a good way to corroborate it. They are allowed, on all
hands, to have been men of graceful exterior, of winning manners, well
advanced in the studies of the times, brave, and masters of their
weapons. It is not necessary surely to prove at this time of day, how
compatible all these qualifications are with a rash and headlong temper,
completely subject to the control of the imagination—a turn of mind
bordering upon frenzy. A man of quick perception, warm feeling, and
ungoverned fancy, is, of all others, the most fascinating, when the
world goes smoothly; but he is of all others the most liable, having no
guiding reason, to err most extravagantly in the serious business of
life: being "unstable as water," he is easily irritated and lashed into
madness by adverse circumstances. How much Gowrie was the dupe of his
imagination, is evident from the fondness with which he clung to the
delusions of the cabala, natural magic, and astrology. Armed (according
to his own belief) with powers beyond the common race of man, doomed by
his stars to achieve greatness, he laughed at danger, and was ready to
neglect the calculations of worldly prudence alike in his aims, and the
means by which he sought their attainment. The true state of his
brother’s mind is pourtrayed, incidentally, by Logan, in his first
letter:—"Bot incase ye and M. A. R. forgader, becawse he is somqhat
consety, for Godis saik be very var with his rakelese toyis of Padoa;
ffor he tald me ane of the strangest taillis of ane nobill man of Padoa
that ever hard in my lyf, resembling the lyk purpose." This suggests at
once the very picture of a young and hot-blooded man, whose brain had
been distracted, during his residence in Italy, with that country’s
numerous legends of wild vengeance. Two such characters, brooding
conjointly over real or fancied wrongs, were capable of projecting
schemes, against which the most daring would remonstrate; and irritated
by the coldness of their friends, were, no doubt, induced to undertake
the execution alone, and almost unassisted.
It only remains to
inquire what was the object which Gowrie proposed to himself, in his mad
and treasonable attempt, and upon whose seconding he was to depend,
suppose his design had succeeded? These two inquiries are inseparably
connected, and have been rendered more interesting, by a late attempt to
implicate the presbyterian party in the earl’s guilt. We are not a
little astonished that such an attempt should have been made at this
late period, when we recollect, that notwithstanding all the ill odour
in which the presbyterian clergymen stood at court, not one of the
thousand idle rumours to which Gowrie’s enterprise gave birth, tried to
direct suspicion towards them. The sole grounds upon which such an
accusation can rest for support, are the facts,—that Gowrie’s father was
a leader among the presbyterians, and his son strictly educated in that
faith; that shortly after his arrival in Italy, he wrote one letter to a
presbyterian minister; and that some of the Edinburgh clergymen
manifested considerable obstinacy in throwing discredit upon the reality
of the conspiracy. The two former are of themselves so weak, that we
pass them over the more willingly, that we shall immediately point out
the motives from which Gowrie acted, and the sort of assistance upon
which he really relied. The conduct of the clergymen admits of an easy
explanation. James, whose perception was nearly as acute as his
character was weak, was fully sensible of the ridicule to which he had
exposed himself, by allowing his desire of money to lead him into so
shallow a device as Ruthven’s. In addition to this, he wished, upon all
occasions, to appear as much of the hero as possible. The consequence
was, that his edition of the story was so dressed up, as to render it
inconsistent; first, with his well-known character; secondly, with the
most distant possibility of his having been deceived with the master’s
pretences; and, thirdly, with the depositions of the witnesses.
Inconsistencies so startling were sufficient to justify some preliminary
scepticism; and if ever there was an occasion, where it was allowable
openly to call a king’s word in question, it was when James demanded,
not merely that his party should hypocritically profess a belief which
they did not entertain, but that they should, daringly and
blasphemously, mix up this falsehood in the solemn services of devotion.
A short time, however, was sufficient to convince the most incredulous
of the truth of the conspiracy, stripped of the adventitious
circumstances which the king linked with it; and the obstinate recusancy
of Bruce the clergyman is sufficiently accounted for, by James’s
insisting upon prescribing the manner in which he was to treat the
matter, and by that individual’s overstrained notions of the guilt
incurred by a minister, who allowed any one to dictate to him concerning
the mode in which he was to conduct public worship.
But Gowrie relied upon
the support of no faction, religious or political. His sole motive seems
to have been a fantastic idea of the duty incumbent upon him to revenge
his father’s death. He is reported, on one occasion, when some one
directed his attention to a person who had been employed as an agent
against his father, to have said, "Aquila non captat muscas."
Ruthven also expressly declared to the king, when he held him prisoner
in the closet, that his only object was to obtain revenge for the death
of his father. The letters of Logan (except in one solitary instance,
where a scheme of aggrandisement is darkly hinted at, and that as
something quite irrelevant to the purpose they had on hand) harp on this
string alone, proving that Gowrie and his friends seek only "for the
revange of that cawse." The only members of the conspiracy who are known
to us, are men likely enough to engage in such a cause, but most
unlikely to be either leaders or followers in a union, where the parties
were bound together by an attachment to certain political principles.
The three conspirators are, the earl and his brother, such as we have
already described them, and Logan of Restalrig, a broken man—a retainer
and partisan of Bothwell--a maintainer of thieves and sorners—a man who
expressly objects to communicating their project to one who he fears "vill
disswade us fra owr purpose y’ ressounes of religion, quhilk I can
never abyd." And if any more evidence were required to show how
little Gowrie relied upon the presbyterians, we might allude to his
anxiety that Logan should sound his brother, lord Home—a catholic.
In short, every thing
leads us to the opinion we have already announced, that the Ruthvens
were instigated to their enterprise by feelings of private revenge
alone, and that they did not seek to make any political party
subservient to their purposes. It is to this isolated nature of their
undertaking--its utter want of connexion with the political movements of
the period—that we attribute the circumstance of its history having so
long remained unknown, and are satisfied that much of that history must
ever remain a riddle. It is with it, as with the adventures of the Iron
Mask, and that whole class of events which seem political, merely
because they befall persons who rank high in the state. They generally
appear more mysterious than they really are; because, if no chance
unveils them at the time, they stand too far apart from all other
transactions, to receive any reflected light from them. [In this account
of the conspiracy and summary of the evidence, we use a masterly
condemnation of the matter of Mr Pitcairn’s documents which appeared in
the Edinburgh Literary Journal.]
On the 9th of November,
1600, was born Charles, James’s second son, afterwards Charles I. of
England. With that country the king now carried on a close
correspondence; first, with the earl of Essex, whom, on hearing of his
imprisonment, he besought Elizabeth to spare, and afterwards, with the
earl of Northumberland, Sir Robert Cecil, and other influential men, on
the subject of his title to the English succession, which was generally
acknowledged by the distinguished men connected with the English court.
On the 28th of March,
1603, Elizabeth expired, having named James as her successor, who was
accordingly proclaimed king of England. His claim to the succession
arose from his relationship to Margaret, daughter of Henry VII., who
married James IV. of Scotland, great-grandfather of James VI.
Immediately after Elizabeth’s decease, Sir Robert Carey, who had
formerly been kindly entertained by James, set off on a private
expedition to Scotland, to convey to the new sovereign the message.
Leaving London on Thursday morning, and stopping at his estate of
Witherington on the way, from which he issued orders for proclaiming
James at several places in the north of England, he reached Edinburgh on
Saturday night, when the king had gone to bed, but, gaining
admission, saluted him as king of England. Next morning Carey was
created gentleman of the bedchamber, and was at last elevated by Charles
I. to the title of earl of Monmouth. The regular messengers to James,
announcing his succession, soon arrived. One of the attendants, called
Davis, the king recognized as the author of a poem on the immortality of
the soul, which seems to have given him high satisfaction, and promised
him his patronage, which he afterwards faithfully bestowed. Indeed,
James, as a patron of literary merit, is entitled to respectful
observation. He had already acted a munificent part in the foundation of
the university of Edinburgh.
On the Sunday after his
accession, the king attended at the High church, and, after sermon,
addressed the audience on his affliction for his Scottish subjects; and
after committing his children to the care of trusty nobles, and making
arrangements for the management of Scottish business, he set off, with a
small number of attendants, from his ancient kingdom, over which he had
reigned for thirty-five years. The reception he met with on the way was
very magnificent, especially at Sir Robert Cecil’s, Sir Anthony
Mildmay’s, and Mr Oliver Cromwell’s. [Uncle of the Protector.]
In his progress, many petitions were presented and granted—volumes
of poems were laid before him by the university of Cambridge, and the
honour of knighthood was conferred on no fewer than two hundred and
thirty-seven individuals. Even in these circumstances, however, he
displayed his notions of royal prerogative, by ordering the recorder of
Newark to execute a cut-purse, apprehended on the way. On reaching
London, he added to the privy council six Scottish favourites, and also
lord Montjoy, and lords Thomas and Henry Howard, the son and brother of
the late duke of Norfolk; and, on the 20th of May, created several
peers. Numerous congratulations flowed in upon the king. The marquis de
Rosni, afterwards duke of Sully, arrived on the 15th of June. The
following sketch of James as he appeared on this occasion to the
marquis, is strong and striking:--"He was upright and conscientious; he
had eloquence and even erudition—but less of these than of penetration
and of the show of learning. He loved to hear discourses on matters of
state, and to have great enterprises proposed to him, which he discussed
in a spirit of system and method, but without any idea of carrying them
into effect—for he naturally hated war, and still more to be personally
engaged in it—was indolent in all his actions, except hunting, and
remiss in affairs,—all indications of a soft and timid nature, formed to
be governed." The king entertained the marquis and his attendants at
dinner; when he spoke with contempt of Elizabeth—a circumstance which
probably arose from the control which he was conscious she had exercised
over him, and especially the idea, which is expressed in one of the
documents in the negotiations on an alliance with Spain, that she was
concerned in the attempts of his Scottish enemies against him and also
of a double marriage he desired, between the French and English royal
families.
The queen followed James
a few weeks after his arrival, having on the eve of her departure
quarreled with the earl of Mar, to whom James had committed the care of
prince Henry, and whose letter to her, advising her not to treat him
with disrespect, excited the passion of that high-spirited woman. She
was crowned, along with her husband, on the 25th of July, by archbishop
Whitgift, with all the ancient solemnity of that imposing ceremony. He
soon after, by proclamation, called upon his subjects to solemnize the
5th of August in honour of his escape from the Gowrie conspiracy.
At the commencement of
the following year was held the famous Hamptoncourt conference. On the
first day, a few select individuals only were admitted to the king; on
the following, four puritan ministers, chosen by the king himself,
appeared—and his majesty presided as moderator. He conversed in Latin,
and engaged in dispute with Dr Reynolds. In answer to an objection
against the Apocrypha started by that learned divine, the king
interpreted one of the chapters of Ecclesiasticus, according to his own
ideas. He also pronounced an unmeasured attack on presbytery, which he
said, "agreed as well with monarchy as God and the devil."—"Stay," he
added, "I pray, for one seven years, before you demand; and then, if you
find me grown pursy and fat, I may perchance hearken unto you. For that
government will keep me in breath, and give me work enough." On this
occasion, Bancroft, bishop of London, flattered him as "such a king, as,
since Christ’s time, the like had not been,"—and Whitgift professed to
believe that his majesty spoke under the special influence of the Holy
Spirit. With such flattery, is it to be greatly wondered at, that the
king esteemed himself an accomplished theological disputant? Indeed, the
whole conference seems to have been managed in a most unreasonable
manner. It was followed by a proclamation enforcing conformity, and a
number of puritans, both clergy and laity, severely suffered.
In March, 1604, the king,
the queen, and the prince, rode in splendid procession from the Tower to
Whitehall; and, at the meeting of parliament, a few days after, James
delivered his first speech to that assembly. One part of it excited
general disapprobation—that in which he expressed himself willing to
favour the Roman catholics—a feeling on his part which probably arose
from the prospects afforded him of friendship with countries so powerful
as France and Spain, and also, perhaps, from some degree of attachment
to the Romish faith, as that of his royal ancestors. At this meeting of
parliament, the king also brought forward his favourite proposal of a
union betwixt England and Scotland, the result of which was the
appointment of a committee for drawing up articles of union; one of the
most zealous members of which was Sir Francis Bacon. To this great man
James showed strong attachment; and, even if Sir Francis had not proved
himself to be devoted with peculiar ardour to the king, it may be
supposed that he would have been regarded by the latter with peculiar
pride, from that splendid series of publications which he had already
begun to publish, and of which "The Advancement of Learning," with a
very flattering dedication to the king, came forth in 1605.
A great part of the
summer following the meeting of parliament, the king devoted to his
favourite sport of hunting—his attachment to which continued through
life, even when corpulence, arising from excess in drinking, which was a
noted fault of James, had unfitted him for every active exercise. About
this time, we find him engaged in arranging a marriage between Sir
Philip Herbert and lady Susan Vere; writing from Royston to the council,
that hunting was the only means to maintain his health, desiring them to
take the charge and burden of affairs, and foresee that he should not be
interrupted nor troubled with too much business; and inquiring into the
case of Haddock, called the sleeping preacher, from his being
said to deliver excellent sermons, and speak excellent Greek and Hebrew
in the midst of sleep, although very stupid when awake, who was brought
by the king to confess that the whole was an imposture. But James was
soon placed in a more serious situation, by the celebrated Gunpowder
Plot, which was discovered on the 5th of November, for which day
parliament had been summoned. A letter was found, supposed to have been
written by the sister of lord Monteagle, who, though approving of the
conspiracy, and the wife of one of the conspirators, wished to preserve
her brother from the meditated ruin. On examination, barrels of
gunpowder were found deposited below the place where parliament was just
about to meet, and the very train and match for the discharge of their
contents were in readiness. The conspirators were, with considerable
difficulty, discovered, and were found to comprehend some Jesuits; and
to have been united by their common attachment to the Roman catholic
religion, which in England had been lately treated with increased
severity. Indeed there is much reason to believe that the plot in some
degree depended on Spanish influence. At the meeting of parliament, a
few days afterwards, James expatiated at great length on this terrible
conspiracy; but still expressed himself indulgent to the English
catholics. Shortly after appeared "A Discourse on the Gunpowder Plot,"
which is supposed to have been the composition of the king. The
conspirators were condemned, and acts against the catholics were passed
in parliament; but James continued to discover his unwillingness to
treat them with severity.
In July, 1606, he
received a visit from the king of Denmark, who was welcomed with
imposing splendour. Prince Vandemont, a French relative of James, also
paid a visit about this time to his royal kinsman. In November, the king
again supported, before the parliament, his favourite scheme of a union
between his Scottish and English kingdoms. The following passages give a
curious example of his mode of conversation. The circumstances are given
by Harrington, as having occurred about this time:—"He engaged much of
learning, and showed me his own in such a sort as made me remember my
examiner at Cambridge aforetime. He sought much to know my advances in
philosophy, and introduced profound sentences of Aristotle, and
such-like writers, which I had never read, and which some are bold
enough to say, others do not understand."—"The prince did now press my
reading to him part of a canto in Ariosto, praised my utterance, and
said he had been informed of many as to my learning, in the time of the
queen. He asked me what I thought pure wit was made of, and when it did
best become; whether a king should not be the best clerk in his own
country; and if this land did not entertain good opinion of his learning
and good wisdom. His majesty did next press for my opinion touching the
power of Satan in matters of witchcraft, and asked me with much gravity,
if I did truly understand why the devil did work more with ancient women
than others." His majesty asked much concerning my opinion of the new
weed tobacco, and said it would, by its use infuse ill qualities on the
brain, and that no learned man ought to taste it, and wished it
forbidden. After discoursing on religion, at length he said "I pray you,
do me justice in your report, and in good season I will not fail to add
to your understanding, in such points as I may find you lack amendment."
Before this time the king had published not only his "Demonology," but
also "A Counterblast to Tobacco."
In 1607, he published an
answer to a work by Tyrone, and soon after his "Triplici nodo triplex
Cuneus,"—a defence of an oath which was imposed on foreigners by an act
of parliament, after the Gunpowder Plot. In 1609, he republished it,
with a dedication to all Christian kings and princes, answers having
been previously made to it by Bellarmine, and other writers. This has
been considered as among the best of the king’s productions, and is
characterized by a late historian of his court, as "a learned defence of
protestant principles, an acute exposure of the false statements and
false reasonings of Bellarmine, and a vigorous but not intemperate
manifesto against papal usurpation and tyranny; yet a vain and useless
ostentation of parts and knowledge: and a truer judgment, by admonishing
the royal author of the incompatibility of the polemical character with
the policy and dignity of a sovereign, would have spared him the
numerous mortifications and inconveniences which ensued." [Aiken’s Court
of James.]
One great cause of the
king’s unpopularity was his excessive favour for a Scotsman of the name
of Carr. In February, 1610, at the meeting of parliament, he did not
appear in person, but he had the mortification soon after, of having his
plan of a union disapproved by parliament, and a supply to himself
refused. They were accordingly summoned to meet the king at Whitehall,
where he explained to them his singular views of royal prerogative. The
same year, Henry was appointed prince of Wales, on which occasion the
ceremonies were continued for three days.
In 1611, James, when on a
hunting expedition, received a book on the Nature and Attributes of God,
by Conrad Vorstius. The king selected several doctrines which he
considered heresies, and wrote to the Dutch government, signifying his
disapprobation—Vorstius having lately received a professorship of
divinity at Leyden, as successor of Arminius. He also ordered the book
to be burned in London. Soon after, Bartholomew Legate was brought into
his presence, accused of professing Arianism in the capital, after which
he continued for some time in Newgate, and was then burned at
Smithfield. About the same time a similar example of barbarous
intolerance occurred. But it was in the same year that our English
translation of the Bible was published--an undertaking which the king
had set on foot, at the suggestion of Dr Reynolds, in 1604, which had
been executed by forty-seven divines, whom James furnished with
instructions for the work; and the fulfilment of which has been justly
remarked as an event of very high importance in the history of the
language, as well as of the religion of Great Britain. About the end of
this year, the king founded a college at Chelsea, for controversial
theology, with a view to answer the papists and puritans. His own wants,
however, now led him to create the title of baronet, which was sold for
£1000; and a man might purchase the rank of baron for £5000, of viscount
for £10,000, and of an earl for £20,000. He also suffered about this
time, by the death of the earl of Salisbury, whom he visited in his
illness. But a domestic loss awaited him—which, however, it is said,
occasioned him slighter suffering than might have been expected,
although the nation felt it as a painful stroke. During preparations for
the marriage of the princess, the king’s daughter, to the elector
palatine, who arrived in England for the purpose on the 16th of October,
1612, prince Henry was cut off by death, on the 6th of November, having
been taken ill the very day before the elector’s arrival. This young
prince was eminently distinguished by piety and honour, amiable manners
and literary habits. His death-bed was cheered by the practice and
consolations of the religion to which, amidst the seductions of a court,
he had adhered in life, and he died, lamented by his family and country,
in the nineteenth year of his age.
In February, 1613, the
princess Elizabeth was married to the elector palatine—not, it is said,
without the dissatisfaction of her father. The preparations, however,
were of the most splendid kind; so that means were again adopted to
supply the royal wants, as also in the following year.
In 1615, James paid a
visit to the university of Cambridge, where he resided in Trinity
college, and was received with many literary exhibitions, in
the form of disputations, sermons, plays, and orations. In this year he
wrote his "Remonstrance for the right of kings, and the independence of
their crowns," in answer to a speech delivered at Paris in January by
cardinal Perron, who sent it to James. This year also occurred the
celebrated trials for the murder of Overbury, in the examinations
previous to which James personally engaged. He had now lost his
enthusiastic attachment to Carr, the person chiefly accused of this foul
deed, whom he had created earl of Somerset, and who had lately been
replaced in his affections by Villiers, the royal cup-bearer, whom he
knighted, and appointed a gentleman of the bed-chamber, and whom he
gradually advanced, until he was created duke of Buckingham.
In 1617, after some
changes in the court, James paid a visit to Scotland, leaving Bacon as
principal administrator in his absence. On this occasion literary
exhibitions were presented to him by the universities of Edinburgh and
St Andrews, and he also amused himself with his favourite sport. But he
soon proceeded to enforce the customs of the English hierarchy on the
Scottish people—a measure which, notwithstanding considerable
encouragement from a General Assembly, which had been convoked with a
view to the proposed alterations, the nation in general deemed an
infringement of a promise he had made many years before, and which they
succeeded, to a considerable degree, in resisting.
The following year was
marked by another act of cruelty. Sir Walter Raleigh, who had been
confined in the Tower for twelve years, on the charge of having been
engaged in a Spanish conspiracy, but had at last obtained release from
his imprisonment, was condemned and executed, in consequence of his
marked misconduct in an expedition to explore a mine in Guiana, which he
had represented to the king as well fitted to enrich his exchequer. His
execution, it will scarcely be doubted, was owing to the influence of
Gondomar, the Spanish ambassador, an enemy of Raleigh at the English
court, in prospect of a marriage between prince Charles and the Spanish
infanta. Soon after the queen died,—a woman who seems to have been by no
means destitute of estimable qualities, but still more remarkable for
the splendour of her entertainments, to which Ben Jonson and other
writers contributed largely of their wit. Indeed that eminent dramatist
seems to have been a person of considerable consequence at the English
court. At this time James’s own literary character was exhibited to the
world in a folio edition of his works, edited, with a preface well
seasoned with flattery, by the bishop of Winchester. Soon after, on an
application from prince Maurice for the appointment of some English
divines, as members of a council for the settlement of the controversy
between the Arminians and Gomarists, which was held at Dort in November,
1618, five learned men were nominated on that commission, directed by
James to recommend to the contending parties the avoidance, in public
instruction, of the controverted topics. His favour to the church of
England was manifested about the same time by his treatment of the
celebrated Selden, who had written a work on "the history of tithes," in
which he held the injustice of considering the alienation of what had
once been church-lands to any other than ecclesiastical purposes, to be
in every case an act of sacrilege. For this work the king required an
explanation, and it was shortly afterwards prohibited by the high
commission court. The nation in general was displeased with the rigour
of the king’s administration; with the plan, which he had not yet
abandoned, of a marriage between his son and the infanta of Spain; and
with the favouritism which he manifested, especially towards Villiers,
whose connexions called on him for bountiful provisions, which the king,
at his request, with gross facility, conceded.
In 1620, the
circumstances of his son-in-law, the elector palatine, began to occupy
the particular attention of the king. That prince, after having been
chosen king by the Bohemians, who had thrown off the Austrian sway, and
received support from various states of Germany, being at last in a very
perilous condition, and on the 8th November, 1620, defeated at the
battle of Prague. After much delay, in which he carried on a diplomatic
interference, James at last agreed to send a supply of chosen men. But
he soon resigned this active interference in his behalf; he called in
vain for a benevolence from his wealthy subjects, to enable him, as he
said, to give him a vigorous support, in the event of future urgency;
and, finally, summoned a parliament, which had not met for many years,
to deliberate on the subject. It met in January, l621,—a parliament
memorable for the investigation it made into the conduct of lord Bacon,
and the sentence it pronounced on that distinguished man, who had
published only a short time before, the second part of his immortal "Novum
Organum." The king, however, had previously promised him either freedom
from such a sentence, or pardon after it, and Bacon accordingly was soon
released from imprisonment, and, in three years after, fully pardoned by
the king. This parliament also granted supplies to James, but in the
same year refused farther supplies to the cause of the palatine. James
adjourned it in spite of the remonstrance of the house of commons; and
on the same day occurred a well-known conversation of the king and the
bishops Neale and Andrews: "My lords," said the king, "cannot I take my
subjects’ money when I want it, without all this formality in
parliament?" "God forbid, sir," said Neale, "but you should—you are the
breath of our nostrils."—"Well, my lord," rejoined his majesty to
Andrews, "and what say you?" He excused himself on the ground of
ignorance in parliamentary matters. "No put-off, my lord," said James,
"answer me presently." "Then, sir," said the excellent prelate, "I think
it lawful for you to take my brother Neale’s money, for he offers it."
The king, however, had himself recommended to this parliament the
investigation of abuses, and especially inveighed against corruption and
bribery in courts of law. In this year he conferred the seals, which
Bacon had resigned, upon Williams, afterwards bishop of Lincoln, who
induced him to deliver the earl of Northumberland from imprisonment; and
soon after, he very creditably interfered for the continuance of
archbishop Abbot in his office, after he had involuntarily committed an
act of homicide.
Parliament meeting again
in February, 1622, the commons prepared a remonstrance to the king on
the dissatisfaction which was generally felt with the position of
affairs, both at home and abroad, and calling on him to resist the
measures of the king of Spain--to enforce the laws against popery—marry
his son to a protestant--support protestantism abroad, and give his
sanction to the bills which they should pass with a view to the interest
of the nation. On hearing of this proceeding, the king addressed an
intemperate letter to the speaker, asserting as usual, the interest of
his "prerogative-royal." It was answered by the commons in a manly and
loyal address, to which the king replied in a letter still more
intemperate than the former. The commons, notwithstanding, drew up and
recorded a protest, claiming the right of delivering their sentiments,
and of deciding freely, without exposure to impeachment. From their
speeches in parliamentary debate, and proposing that, should there be
objection made to any thing said by a member in the house, it should be
officially reported to the king, before he should receive as true any
private statement on the subject. This protest the king tore out of the
journal of the house, ordered the deed to be registered, and imprisoned
several of the individuals concerned, who, however, were soon afterwards
liberated. But James still maintained his own authority; he strictly
prohibited the general discussion of political subjects, and enjoined on
the clergy a variety of rules, guarding them against preaching on
several subjects, some of which must be regarded as important parts of
the system which it is the duty of the clergy to proclaim.
On the 17th of February,
1623, prince Charles and the marquis of Buckingham set off on a visit to
Spain, with a view to the marriage of the former with the infanta—although
the king had resisted the proposal of this journey, which had been
urgently made by the prince and Buckingham. On the circumstance being
known in England, the favourite was loudly blamed, and the prince
suspected of an attachment to popery. The travellers proceeded in
disguise, visited Paris for a single day, and reached Madrid on the 6th
of March. The earl of Bristol, the English ambassador, met them with
surprise. James corresponded with them in a very characteristic manner,
and sent a large supply of jewels and other ornaments, as a present for
the infanta. The Spaniards were generally anxious for the consummation
of the marriage. But the pope, unwilling to grant a dispensation,
addressed to Charles a letter entreating him to embrace the Roman
catholic religion, to which the prince replied in terms expressive of
respect for the Romish church.
Accordingly, all was
prepared for the marriage, which was appointed to take place on the 29th
of August. But before the day arrived, pope Gregory had died--a
circumstance which destroyed the force of the matrimonial articles; and
the prince left Spain in the midst of general demonstrations of
attachment to his person, and inclination towards the intended marriage.
On his way to England, however, he discovered a coldness towards the
measure, and shortly after his arrival in October, the king acceding to
the proposal of the favourite, who was displeased at his reception in
Spain, a letter was sent to the earl of Bristol, ordering him not to
grant the proxy which was required according to the treaty, after the
papal dispensation was obtained, before security should be given by
Spain for the restoration of the Palatine. But even after the king of
Spain had agreed to this proposal, James, persuaded by the favourite,
expressed a wish that the matter should be broken off. But the low state
of pecuniary resources into which these negotiations had reduced the
English king, induced him to call a parliament, which met February,
1624, to which he submitted the matters about which he was now
particularly interested. It offered supplies to the king for a war with
Spain. War was declared, and the favourite of the king became the
favourite of a large proportion of the nation. About the same time, an
accusation of Buckingham, for his conduct in regard to Spain and
Bohemia, was presented secretly to the king by the marquis Inojoso. It
threw his majesty into excessive agitation; and on setting out for
Windsor, he repulsed the duke, as he offered to enter the royal
carriage. The duke inquired, with tears, in what respect he had
transgressed, but received only tears and reproaches in return. On
receiving an answer by Williams, to the charges against the duke, he
again received him into favour, and soon after broke off all friendly
negotiations with Spain. He resisted, however—though not
successfully--the proposal of Buckingham and Charles, that he should
impeach the lord treasurer, on the ground of corruption in office.
He also resisted—with much better reason—the petition of Buckingham,
that the earl of Bristol should be forced to submit, exclaiming "I were
to be accounted a tyrant to engage an innocent man to confess faults of
which he was not guilty." The earl, however, was prevented from
appearing in the presence of the king, who also cautioned the parliament
against seeking out grievances to remedy, although they might apply a
cure to obviously existing ones.
June, 1624, was occupied
by the king and Buckingham in carrying on measures for a marriage
between prince Charles and Henrietta Maria, sister of Louis XIII. and
daughter of Henry IV.; and on the 10th of November, a dispensation
having been with some difficulty obtained from the pope, the nuptial
articles were signed at Paris. But in the spring of 1625, the king,
whose constitution had previously suffered severely, was seized with
ague, of which he died at Theobald’s on the 27th of March, in the 59th
year of his age. He was buried in Westminster abbey, and the funeral
sermon was preached by Williams.
On the character of
James, so palpable and generally known, it is not necessary to offer
many observations. Much of his conduct is to be attributed in a great
measure to his political advisers, who were often neither wise nor
faithful. His own character embraced many combinations of what may be
almost denominated inconsistencies. He was peculiarly subject to the
influence of favourites, and. yet exceedingly disposed to interfere with
the course of political affairs, Indeed, to his warm and exclusive
attachments, combined with his extravagant ideas of his own office and
authority, may be traced the principal errors of his reign. He was,
accordingly, irresolute, and yet often too ready to comply; sensible to
feeling, and yet addicted to severity; undignified in manner, and yet
tyrannical in government. Erring as was his judgment, his learning
cannot be denied, though the use he often made of it, and especially the
modes in which he showed it in the course of conversation, have been,
with reason, the subjects of amusement. His superstition was great, but
perhaps not excessive for the age in which he lived; and it is said,
that in his later days he put no faith in witchcraft. His religion was
probably in some degree sincere, though neither settled nor commanding.
Neither his writings nor his political courses, it is to be feared, have
done much directly to advance the interests of liberal and prudent
policy; but in both there are pleasing specimens of wisdom, and both may
teach us a useful lesson, by furnishing a melancholy view of the nature
and tendency of tyranny, even when in some degree controlled by the
checks of parliamentary influence and popular opinion.