out, with great justice, how much they would put themselves in the power of the Spaniards, what advantages they would give them over them, and what a storm of anger and alarm would break out at home as soon as it became known. The two knights-errant bade him dismiss his fears, that all would go well, and that they had selected Sir Francis Cottington and Sir Endymion Porter to attend them. James approved their choice, but commanded Cottington to tell him plainly what he thought of the project. Cottington, who did not seem yet to have been let into the secret, on hearing it, fell into a violent trembling, and declared that it was a rash and perilous adventure; whereupon James threw himself upon his bed in an agony, crying—"I told you so, I told you so before. I shall be undone, and lose baby Charles."
The prince and Buckingham were outrageous at the behaviour of Cottington, and handled him severely, but after all, James, with his usual weakness, gave his consent, and the travellers set forward on the 17th of February, 1623.
They had a number of adventures. Besides Cottington and Porter, they were attended by Sir Richard Graham, master of the horse to Buckingham. They gave a piece of gold to the ferryman at Gravesend, which immediately made him suspect something of the quality of his fare. At Rochester they came again into difficulty; and scarcely were they beyond it, when they saw the French ambassador approaching in the king's coach, and to avoid him, leaped the hedges and cut across the fields. At Canterbury the mayor was not satisfied with their appearance, and Buckingham, taking off a false beard, confessed who he was. Their post-boy, on the way to Dover, discovered whom he was driving, for he had been at court, and they were obliged to purchase his silence. Betwixt Boulogne and Paris they were again recognised by two German gentlemen, who had seen them with the king at Newmarket. At Paris they went boldly to the court and saw the royal family at a masque without any one knowing them. Charles wrote and told the king this, and that the queen of France was the handsomest lady at court, which made him the more anxious to see her sister, the princess of Spain. He and Buckingham had also walked all about Paris unrecognised, except by an English maid who had been in London, and said, "Certainly that is the prince of Wales," but did not follow him, or attract notice to him.
Sir Edward Herbert, afterwards the celebrated lord Herbert of Cherbury, the English ambassador, was greatly astonished to hear that the prince had been in Paris, and was gone forward on his way towards Spain. He hastened to inform the French secretary of state of the fact, and take measures for his security. No sooner did the secretary see him, than he said, "I know your business before you tell me it—your prince has this morning departed for Spain." He said that he should suffer no molestation, but he trusted that he "would hold no communication with the discontented Huguenots by the way. Herbert begged that no one might be sent after him, but the secretary replied that that would not be polite, that some one must follow to see how the prince had fared on his journey. This was enough for Herbert: he lost no time in despatching a courier after Charles, to warn him to avoid all intercourse with the protestants, and to make the best of their way out of France; for that their presence there was well known at court, and a watch was dogging their steps, though the minister had promised no interruption should take place. At Bayonne, on the frontiers, they had some little difficulty, being stopped and examined, but were suffered to pass, and reached Madrid safely towards the end of March. The next day their attendants, whom they had outridden, arrived.
Lord Bristol had despatched a messenger immediately on the prince reaching his house, informing the king that his son and friend were safe in Madrid, after a journey of sixteen days. Meantime, strange rumors began to run about the Spanish capital, that some great man from England had arrived, supposed to be the king himself, and it was deemed best to make the fact known to the court themselves. They sent for Gondomar, who hurried off to court with the welcome news. There were first private but stately interviews, and then a public reception. The prince was first privately conducted to the monastery of St. Jerome, from which the Spanish kings proceed to their coronation, and was then brought back publicly by the king, his two brothers, and the élite of the Spanish nobility. Charles rode at the king's right hand through the whole city to the palace, when he was conducted to the apartments appropriated to him. He had then a formal introduction to the queen and Infanta. Charles had two keys of gold given him, by which he could pass into the royal apartments at all hours, yet Spanish etiquette did not allow him to converse with the Infanta except in public. Tired of this restraint, Charles determined to break through the court formality, and speak unceremoniously with his proposed wife; wherefore, hearing that Donna Maria used to go to the Casa de Campo on the other side of the river to gather May-dew, he rose early and went thither also. He passed through the house and garden, but found that the princess was in the orchard, and betwixt him and her a high wall, and the door strongly bolted. Without further ceremony he got over the wall, dropped down, and seeing the princess at a distance, hastened towards her. But the princess, on perceiving him, gave a shriek and ran off; and the old marquis, her guardian, falling on his knees before the prince, entreated him to retire, as he should lose his head if he permitted it. Accordingly he let him out and rebolted the door.
Great were the public rejoicings, however, on account of this chivalric visit. The king professed to feel himself greatly complimented by the reliance of the English prince on the Spanish honour, on the earnestness it evinced in the prosecution of his suit; and the people as firmly calculated on his conversion to the catholic faith. The prisons were thrown open; presents and favours were heaped upon him; the king insisted on his taking precedence of himself, and assured him that any petition which he presented to him for a whole month, should be granted. There were bull-fights, tournaments, fencing matches, feasts, and religious processions, held in his honour and for his amusement.
But meantime at home, dire was the consternation when it was known that Charles had gone off with slight attendance to Spain. It was stoutly declared that he would never escape alive from amongst the inquisitions and monks of that priest-ridden country, or if he did, it would only be as a papist. The freedom of comment on the occasion in the
