BEGINNING OF THE REIGN OF CHARLES I, AND HIS FIRST AND SECOND PARLIAMENT.

The prince who now ascended the throne was in the bloom of life: he had just completed his twenty-fifth year. He had been weak and delicate in childhood: among the defects from which he suffered was that of stammering, which he did not get over throughout life; but he had grown up stronger in other ways than had been expected. He looked well on horseback: men saw him govern with safety horses that were hard to manage: he was expert in knightly exercises: he was a good shot with the cross-bow, as well as with the gun, and even learned how to load a cannon. He was hardly less unweariedly devoted to the chase than his father. He could not vie with him in intelligence and knowledge, nor with his deceased brother Henry in vivacious energy and in popularity of disposition; but he had learnt much from his father, at whose feet he loved to sit; and his brother's tastes for the arts and for the experimental sciences, especially the former, had passed to him. In moral qualities he was superior to both. He was one of those young men of whom it is said that they have no fault. His strict propriety of demeanour bordered on maiden bashfulness: a serious and temperate soul spoke from his calm eyes. He had a natural gift for apprehending even the most complicated questions, and he was a good writer. From his youth he shewed himself economical; not profuse, but at the same time not niggardly; in all matters precise. All the world had been wearied by the frequent proofs which his father had given of his untrustworthiness, and by the unfathomable mystery in which he enveloped his ever-wavering intentions: they expected from the son more openness, uprightness, and consistency. They asked if he would not also be more decidedly Protestant. He showed, at least at first, that he had a more sensitive feeling with regard to his princely honour.[446] He had expected that his personal suit for the hand of the Infanta would remove all difficulties on the part of the Spaniards, even those of a political character, which obstructed the marriage. They had paid him every attention suitable to his rank, but in the business which was under discussion they had not given way a hair's breadth: it rather appeared as if they wished to avail themselves of his presence to impose harder conditions upon him. He was deeply affronted at this. When he found himself again among his countrymen on board an English ship, he expressed his astonishment that he had not been detained after he had been so ill-treated.[447] Quiet and taciturn by nature, he knew while in Spain how to disguise his real feelings by appearing to feel differently: but we have seen how on his return his whole attitude with regard to affairs in general, both foreign and domestic, in matters which concerned his father and the Parliament alike, assumed an altered character which corresponded to the general feeling of the nation far more closely than the policy previously pursued.

In the last days of James doubts had still been felt whether he would ever allow a marriage to take place between his son and a French princess, and large sums had been wagered on the issue. Charles I at once put an end to all hesitation. He did not allow himself to be induced to defer his marriage even by the death of his father, or by a pestilential sickness which then prevailed, or by the lack of the desirable preparations in the royal palaces. He wished to show the world that he adhered to his policy of opposition to Spain. He even allowed the privateering, which his father had formerly suppressed with so much zeal, to begin again. The royal navy, for the improvement of which Buckingham actively exerted himself, was put in a complete state of efficiency, and the money granted by Parliament was principally employed for this purpose.

But to enable him to undertake war in earnest he required fresh grants. It was almost the first thought of the King after his accession to the throne to call a Parliament for this purpose, and that the same Parliament which had last sat in the reign of his father.[448] He bent, although unwillingly, to the necessity, imposed by the constitution, of ordering new elections to be proceeded with, for he would rather have avoided all delay: but he entertained no doubt that the Parliament, as it was composed after the elections, would give him its full support. After what had taken place he considered this almost a matter of course.

On June 18/28, 1625, Charles I opened his first Parliament at Westminster. He reminded the members that his father had been induced by the advice of the Parliament, whose wishes he had himself represented to the King, to break off all further negotiations with Spain. He said that this was done in their interest: that on their instigation he had embarked on the affair as a young man joyfully and with good courage: that this had been his first undertaking: what a reproach would it be both for himself and for them if they now refused him the support which he necessarily required for bringing to a successful issue the quarrel which had already begun!

And certainly if war with Spain had been the only question, he might have reckoned upon abundant grants: but the matter was not quite so simple. Parliament thought above all of its own designs, which it had not been possible to effect in the lifetime of James I, but which Charles had advocated in the last session. If the new King inferred the obligation of Parliament to furnish the money required for a foreign war from the share it had had in the counsels which had led to that war, Parliament also considered that he was no less bound on his part to fulfil the wishes that had been expressed in regard to internal policy. In the very first debate which preceded the election of the Speaker, this point of view was very distinctly put forward. The King was told that in the last session he had sought to remove all differences between Parliament and his father, and to induce the latter to grant the petitions of Parliament: that if he had not succeeded then, that result had been due only to his want of power; but now he had power as well as inclination: what he before had only been able to will, he now was enabled to effect, and everything depended solely on him.[449] It had been especially the execution of the Acts of Parliament directed against the Catholics which the Parliament demanded, and which the Prince in his ardour against Spain had then thought advisable. His father had refused to grant this: it was now expected that he should grant it himself. They expected this from him as much as he expected from them a subsidy sufficient for carrying on the war. It may be asked, however, whether it was possible for him to give ear to their wishes. The complication in his fortunes arose from his inability to comply.

If Charles I, when Prince of Wales, had wished to identify his cause entirely with the aims of Parliament, he would have been obliged to marry the daughter of a Protestant prince. But this was prevented by the political danger which would then have arisen in the event of a breach with Spain. Neither James nor Charles I believed that they could withstand this great monarchy without an alliance with France. Political and dynastic interests had led to the marriage which had just been concluded. But by this a relation with the Catholic world had again been contracted which rendered impossible a purely Protestant system of government such as Queen Elizabeth desired to establish. A dispensation from Rome had been required which expressed even without any disguise the hope that the French princess would convert the King and his realm to the old faith.[450] The marriage could not have been concluded without entering into obligations which were in open contradiction to the Acts of Parliament. Those obligations were not yet fully known, but what was learnt of them caused great agitation. Charles was reminded of a promise, which he was said to have given at an earlier time, to agree to no conditions on his marriage which might be prejudicial to the Church existing in England. Men asked how that promise had been fulfilled; and why any secret was made of the compact which had been concluded. Would not the Queen's chapel, they asked, now serve to unite the Catholics of England; or would they be forbidden to hear mass there? In a forcible petition Parliament asked for the execution of the laws issued against Papists and recusants.[451]

Charles I was not in a position to be able to regard it. It was not that he had any thought of curtailing the rights of the English Church or of entering on any other course in great questions of general policy than that which had been laid down in conjunction with Parliament. His marriage also was a preparation for the conflict with Spain; but if it was not so decidedly opposed to the common feeling of the country as a Spanish marriage, yet it was far from being in accordance with it. The pledges which had been given on that occasion prevented the King from adopting exclusively Protestant points of view, and from identifying himself completely with his people.

But there was another reason for the King's adherence to his agreement. He was as little inclined as his father had been to allow the Parliament to exercise any influence on ecclesiastical affairs. Much unpleasant surprise was created at that time by the writings of Dr. Montague, in which he treated the Roman Church with forbearance, and Puritanism with scorn and hatred. Parliament wished to institute proceedings against the author. The King did not take him under his protection; but on the request of some dignitaries of the English Church he transferred the matter to his own tribunal. He regarded it moreover as an undoubted element of his prerogative to dispense with the statutes passed by Parliament, so that the concessions which were expressed in the marriage compact appeared to him quite justifiable.

We see how closely this affected the most important question of English constitutional law. The universal competence of Parliament is here opposed to the authority of the King, strengthened by his ecclesiastical functions. And we understand how Parliament, in spite of the urgent need created by itself, hesitated to fulfil the expectations of the King.

It could not absolutely refuse to make any grant: it offered him two subsidies, 'fruits of its love' as they were termed. But the King had expected a far stronger proof of devotion. What importance could be attached to such an insignificant sum in prospect of so tremendous an undertaking as a war against Spain? The grant itself implied a sort of refusal.

But the Lower House also attempted to introduce a most extensive innovation in regard to finance. The customs formed one of the main sources of the revenue of the crown, without which it could not be supported. They had been increased by the last government on the ground of its right to tonnage and poundage, although, as we saw, not without opposition.[452] The constitutional question was whether the customs were properly to be regarded as a tax, and accordingly dependent on the grant of Parliament, or whether they were absolutely appropriated to the crown by right derived from long prescription: for since the time of Edward IV, tonnage and poundage had been granted to every king for the whole period of his reign. The controversies arising on the subject under James had brought to light the daily increasing importance conferred by the growth of commerce on this source of revenue, which certainly assured to the crown, if not for extraordinary undertakings, yet for the conduct of the ordinary business of the state, a certain independence of the grants of Parliament. The Lower House was now disinclined, both on principle and under the painful excitement of the moment, to renew the grant on these terms: it therefore conferred the right to tonnage and poundage on the King only for a year. But the import of this restriction was plain enough. The popular leaders were not satisfied with granting the King very inadequate support for the war, but they sought to make him dependent even in time of peace on the goodwill of the Lower House. The resolution was rejected by the Upper House, and it appeared to the King himself as an affront. For why should he be refused what had been secured to his predecessors during a century and a half? The granting of supplies for life he regarded as a mere form, which after such long prescription was not even necessary. He thought himself entitled, even without such a grant, to have the duties levied in his own name as before.

These were differences of the most thoroughgoing character, which had descended to Charles I with the crown itself from the earlier kings and from his father. The change of government, and certain previous occurrences caused these differences to come into greater prominence than ever; but they received their peculiar character from something in his personal relations which had also been transmitted from the father to the son.

Or rather, we may say, James I would certainly have been inclined to get rid of Buckingham as he had formerly got rid of Somerset: under Charles I this favourite occupied a still stronger position than he had held before.

Between the two men personally there was a great contrast. In the favourite there was nothing of the precision, calmness, and moral behaviour of the King. Buckingham was dissolute, talkative, and vain. His appearance had made his fortune, and he endeavoured to add to it by a splendour of attire, which later times would have allowed only in women. Jewels were displayed in his ears, and precious stones served as buttons for his doublet. It was affirmed that on his journey to France, which preceded the marriage of the King, he had taken with him about thirty different suits, each more costly than the last. It was for him as much an affair of ambition as of sensual pleasure to make an impression upon women, and to achieve what are called conquests in the highest circles. He revelled in the enjoyment of successes in society. Moments of lassitude followed, when those who had to speak with him on business found him extended upon his couch, without giving them a sign of interest or attention, especially when their proposals were not altogether to his mind. Immediately afterwards however he would pass from this state to one of the most highly-strained activity, for which he by no means wanted ability: he then knew neither rest nor weariness. He was spurred on most of all by the necessity of making head alternately against such powerful and active rivals as the two ministers who at that time conducted the affairs of France and Spain. He was bound to Charles I by a common interest in one or two of those employments which fill up daily life, for instance by fondness for art and art collections, but principally by the companionship into which they had been thrown, first in the cabinet of James I, who weighed his conclusions by their assistance, and afterwards in their journey to Spain. The Spaniards, who were accustomed to treat persons of the highest rank with respect and reverence, were greatly scandalised to see how entirely Buckingham indulged his own humours in the presence of the Prince. He allowed himself to use playful nicknames, such as might have been often applied in the hunting-seats of James or in letters to him, but which at other times appeared very much out of place. He remained sitting when the Prince was standing: in his presence he had indeed the audacity to consult his ease by stretching his legs on another chair. The Prince appeared to find this quite proper: Buckingham was for him not so much a servant as an equal and intimate friend. It would have been impossible to say which of the two was the chief cause of the alienation which arose between them and the Spaniards. Rumour made the favourite responsible for this estrangement: better informed people traced it to the Prince himself. The intimacy formed during their previous association had been made still closer by the policy which they pursued since their return from Spain. Many persons hoped notwithstanding that, in spite of appearances to the contrary, an alteration would take place with the change of government. But on the first entry of Charles I into London, Buckingham was seen sitting by him in his carriage in the usual intimate proximity. His share in the marriage of the King increased their friendship: they both equally agreed even in the subsequent change of policy. Buckingham had allied himself most closely with the leaders of the Puritan opposition in Parliament: by their support principally he had broken up the party favourable to Spain. But in return for these services he had now not the least intention of doing justice to their claims. If it had depended on him, still greater concessions would afterwards have been granted in favour of the Catholics than in fact were made; for Catholic sympathies were very strongly represented in his family: he himself had far less feeling in favour of Anglican orthodoxy than the King. And when the rights of the prerogative were called in question, he again espoused them most zealously, seeing that his own power rested on their validity. He looked at the Parliamentary constitution from the point of view of a holder of power, who wishes to avail himself of it for the end before him without deeming himself bound by it, so soon as it becomes inconvenient to him. He cared only for success in his immediate object: all means of obtaining it seemed fair.

The continuance of the session in London was at that time rendered impossible by the pestilential sickness already referred to, which every day increased in severity. Buckingham, who although pliant and adroit yet had no regard whatever for others, wished to keep Parliament sitting until it had made satisfactory grants. While the members, and even the Privy Council, wished for a prorogation, he urged with success that the sitting should only be transferred to Oxford. Thither the two Houses very unwillingly went, for there also symptoms of the plague were already showing themselves; and each member would have preferred to be at home with his family. And when Buckingham came before them at Oxford with his proposal for a further grant, the ill-humour of the assembly openly broke out. He was reproached with the illegality of his conduct in asking for a grant of subsidies more than once in a session; the members said that if this was the object of their meeting they might well have been at home.[453] But they were not content with rejecting the proposal: they said that if they must remain together, they would, according to former precedent, bring under debate the prevailing abuses and their removal.

Buckingham had been warned that by now changing his demeanour he would run the risk of forfeiting those sympathies of Parliament, which he had won by his Protestant attitude. In the very first session at Oxford an event took place which set religious passions in agitation.

Before the departure of the Parliament from London Lord Keeper Williams had promised in the King's name that the laws against Catholic priests should be observed. Immediately after the Speaker had taken his seat at Oxford, a complaint was made that an order for the pardon of six priests had been since issued. Williams had had no share in it; he had refused to seal it. It had been necessary to complete it in the presence of the King, who was induced at the urgent request of Buckingham to give his assent in pursuance of the conditions of the agreement executed with France. This conduct however, the failure to execute laws that had been ratified, especially after a renewed promise to the contrary, appeared to the Parliament an attack upon its rights and upon the constitution of the country. The ill-feeling was directed against Buckingham, whose exceptional position was now the general object of public and private hatred. This was a time in which the power of a first minister in France, who came forward as the representative of the monarchy, was winning its way amid the strife of factions, and above all in opposition to the claims of aristocratic independence. What Concini and Luynes had begun, Richelieu with a strong arm carried systematically into effect. Something similar seemed to be at hand in England also. It had been the fashion of James I to give effect to his will in the state by means of a minister, to whom he confided the most important affairs, and whom he wished to be dependent solely on the King himself; and Charles I, in this as in other matters, followed his father's example. Buckingham became more powerful under him than ever. At the meetings of the Privy Council the King hardly allowed any one else to speak: without taking the votes of the members he accepted Buckingham's opinion as conclusive. And yet it was apparent at the same time that this opinion did not deserve preference from any worth of its own. The public administration, so far as it was influenced by him, and his special department, the Admiralty, furnished much occasion for just censure; and the general policy on which he embarked appeared questionable and dangerous. He was coarsely compared to a mule which took its rider into a wrong road. Oxford suggested to men's minds the recollection of the opposition which the great nobles had once offered to Henry III. People said that they might perhaps have been to blame in form, but not in substance. It was wished that Charles I might also govern the state by the help of his wise and dignified councillors, and not with the aid of a single young man. Parliament, the great men of the country, and those who filled the highest offices, were almost unanimous against Buckingham. The Lord Keeper Williams told the King openly at a meeting of the Privy Council at Oxford, that nothing would quiet the apprehensions of his Parliament but an assurance 'that in actions of importance and in the disposition of what sums of money the people should bestow upon him, he would take the advice of a settled and constant council.'[454] The misconduct of the favourite in not applying the money granted to the objects for which it was voted, was exactly the ground of the complaint urged against him. Not only the real importance of the points in dispute, but also the intention of driving Buckingham from his position, led Parliament to reject all his proposals.

The King's adherence to his resolution of supporting his minister greatly affected the state of affairs in England, which even at that time presupposed and required an agreement between the Crown and the Parliament.

Buckingham attributed the rejection of his proposals in Parliament to personal enmity; and this he thought he could certainly overcome. Williams, who in the time of James I had been entirely in the confidence of the King, was after a time dismissed, not without harshness, and was replaced by Thomas Coventry. The post of Lord Keeper was again filled by a lawyer who troubled himself less about political affairs. Parliament was not prorogued, as the rest of the members of the Privy Council wished: the King agreed with Buckingham that it must be dissolved. The Duke hoped that new elections, held under his influence, would give better results. He did not doubt that another Parliament might be hurried away to make extensive grants under the pressure of the great interest opposed to Spain. But in order to effect this object it appeared to him necessary to exclude from the Lower House its most active members, who were his personal antagonists. He adopted the odious means of advancing them to offices which could not be held compatible with a seat in Parliament. In this way Edward Coke, who revived and found arguments for the constitutional claims of Parliament, was nominated sheriff of Buckinghamshire, and Thomas Wentworth High Sheriff of Yorkshire. Francis Seymour, Robert Phillips, and some others, had a similar fate.[455] When the lists were submitted as usual the King unexpectedly announced these nominations. Some peers, whose views inspired no confidence, were not summoned to attend the sittings of the Upper House.

Perhaps too much weight has been attributed to the circumstance—but yet it proves the discontent which was widely spreading—that at the coronation of the King, which took place during these days, the traditional question addressed from four sides of the tribune to the surrounding multitude, asking whether they approved, was not answered from one side at least with the joyful readiness usually displayed.[456]

On February 6, 1626, the new Parliament was opened at Westminster. It made no great objection to the exclusion of some of the former members, as the means by which this had been effected could not be regarded as exactly illegal. Among the members assembled an ambition was rather felt to prove that their opinions and resolutions were not dependent on the influence of some few men. For all Buckingham's efforts to prevent it, on this occasion also those opinions were in the ascendant which he wished to oppose. In the place of the members excluded others arose, and at times they were the very men from whom he feared nothing. A great impression was made when a personal friend of Buckingham, his vice-admiral in Devonshire, John Eliot, came forward as his decided political opponent. He first brought under discussion the mismanagement of the money granted, which was laid to the charge of the First Minister. With this was connected a transaction of great importance which affected the general relation between the Parliament and the Crown.

In the year 1624 a council of war, consisting of seven members, had been nominated to manage the money then granted. They were now summoned to account for it. Although this measure appeared an innovation, yet the government could do nothing against it—it had even consented to it: but Parliament at the same time submitted to the members the invidious question, whether their advice for the attainment of the ends in view had always been followed. King James had said on a former occasion, that if Parliament granted him subsidies, he had to A.D. 1626. account to it for their disposal as little as to a merchant from whom he received money; for he loved to lay as much emphasis upon his prerogative as possible. How entirely opposed to the prerogative were the claims which Parliament now advanced! It is clear that if the members of the council should make the communications they were asked for, all freedom of action on the part of the minister and of the King himself would be called in question.

The members of the new council for war were thrown into great embarrassment. They answered that they must first consult the lawyers on the subject, and the King conveyed to them his approval of this declaration. He informed them that he had had the Act of Parliament laid before him: that they were bound to submit to questions only about the application of the money, but about nothing else: he even threatened them with his displeasure if they should go beyond this. The president of the council for war, George Carew, called his attention to the probability that the grant of the subsidies which he demanded from Parliament might be hindered by such an answer: it would be better, he said, that the Council should be sent to the Tower,—for it would come to this,—than that the good relations between the King and the Parliament should be impaired, and the payment of the subsidies hindered. Charles I said that it was not merely a question of money, and that gold might be bought too dear. He thanked them for the regard which they had shown to him; but he added that Parliament was aiming not at them but at himself.[457]

The controversy about tonnage and poundage coincided with this quarrel. The grant, as has been mentioned, had been obtained only for a short period. Parliament was incensed, that after this had expired, the King had the customs levied just as before. 'How,' it was said, 'did the King wish to raise taxes that had never been voted? Was not this altogether contrary to the form of government of the country? Whoever had counselled the King to this step, he was without doubt the sworn enemy of King and country.'

Parliament declared to the King that if he insisted on those subsidies which were absolutely necessary, it would support him as fully as ever a prince had been supported by a Parliament, but in Parliamentary fashion, or, as they expressed it, 'via parlamentaria.'[458] The claims of Parliament included both the right of granting money in its widest extent, and the supervision of its application when granted. The King considered that a grant was not necessary in respect of every source of revenue—for instance, not in respect to tonnage and poundage, and was determined to keep the management entirely in his own hands, and to submit to no kind of control over it.

Many other questions, in which wide interests were involved, were brought forward for discussion in Parliament, especially in regard to ecclesiastical matters: the proceedings of the High Commission were attacked again. But the question of the widest range of all was the decided attempt to alter the government and to overthrow the great minister, which gave perhaps the greatest employment to the assembly.[459] It was directed against the favourite personally, for he had now incurred universal hatred, but at bottom there also lay the definite intention of confirming the doctrine of ministerial responsibility by a new and signal example.

How quickly was Buckingham overtaken by Nemesis; that is to say, in this, as in so many other instances, how soon was he visited by the consequences which in the nature of things attended his actions! First, owing to his influence the establishment of that council for war had been granted which now gave occasion to the demand for Parliamentary control: and next, he had allowed the fall of Bacon, and had most deliberately overthrown Cranfield by the help of Parliament. These were just the transactions which endangered his own existence by the consequences of the principles involved in both cases alike.

The King was certainly moved by personal inclination to take the part of his minister; but he was also moved by anxiety about the application of these principles. He complained that without actually established facts forthcoming, on the strength of general rumour, people wished to attack the man on whom he bestowed his confidence: but Parliament, he said, was altogether overstepping its competence. It was wishing to inspect the books of the royal officers, to pass judgment upon the letters of his secretary of state, nay, even upon his own: it permitted and sheltered seditious speeches within its bosom. There never had been a king, he affirmed, who was more inclined to remove real abuses, and to observe a truly Parliamentary course; but also there had never been one who was more jealous of his royal honour. The more violently Buckingham was attacked, the more it appeared to the King a point of honour to take him under his protection against charges which he considered futile.

The Lower House did not take up all the points in dispute which the King proposed for discussion. It excused some things which had occurred to the prejudice of the royal dignity, but in the principal matter it was immovable. It asserted, and adhered to its assertion, that it was the constant undoubted right of Parliament, exercised as well under the most glorious of former reigns as under the last, to hold all persons accountable, however high their rank, who should abuse the power transferred to them by their sovereign and oppress the commonwealth. They maintained that without this liberty no one would ever venture to say a word against influential men, and that the common-weal would be forced to languish under their violence.

The impeachment was drawn up in regular form by eight members, among whom we find the names of Selden, Glanvil, Pym, and Eliot. On the 8th of May it was carried by 225 votes to 116 to send up to the Lords a proposal for the arrest of Buckingham.

In the Upper House, the members of which were by no means more favourable to the Duke, and feared the nomination of a large number of peers, Lord Bristol independently brought an accusation against Buckingham relating to the failure of the Spanish marriage. The conduct of which he is accused may rather have shown ambition and foolish assumption than any real criminality; and Buckingham's defence is not without force. The Lower House, to whom it was communicated, nevertheless expressed their opinion that a formal prosecution must take place. It seemed that Buckingham must surely but sink under the combined weight of various complaints.

But the King would not allow matters to go so far. Without paying any regard to the wish of the Lords to the contrary, he proceeded to dissolve this Parliament also (June 15, 1626). In the declaration which he issued on the subject, he said that he recognised Joab's hand in these estrangements: but in spite of them he would fulfil his duty as king of this great nation, and would himself redress their grievances and defend them with the sword against foreign enemies.

The opposition between Parliament and the Crown did not develop by slow degrees. In its main principles at least it appears immediately after the accession of Charles I as a historical necessity.