Search

The foreign policy and domestic government of any sovereign state can never be divorced and understood in isolation. Together they constitute the broader subject of national policy. This is particularly true, as we have seen, of Caroline England. Charles's policies came to form an overall pattern which politically and ideologically, had its internal logic. This chapter examines the way in which English policy interacted with the international scene and, to this end, treats English foreign policy as a subject in itself. This was a momentous period of the Thirty Years War. The recovery of Protestant fortunes, after terrible reverses at the hands of the Habsburgs, meant that by 1632 the balance of forces could be said to be even. English policy exemplified the tension between interventionist and isolationist policies in Europe at this time. England's withdrawal from the war was critical in the reorientation of Protestant alliances and the erection of Richelieu's new anti-Habsburg coalition. How was English foreign policy formulated during this era? One, and frequently both, Secretaries of State conducted diplomatic correspondence under the oversight of the king and the Council's committee for foreign affairs, which consistently reviewed despatches. Yet with the political eclipse of the Council, the roles of individual ministers were more important than conciliar deliberation. Conflict over policy led to secret and competing lines of diplomatic communication. Thus the distinction between official and unofficial channels is often difficult to draw. As Secretary, Dorchester was responsible for the royal foreign correspondence. In addition, he operated a system of diplomatic and military patronage among Charles's subjects serving in the Protestant countries of northern Europe. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

The emerging character of the Caroline regime, of its policies in Church and state, was definitely discernible by 1630. That character was very much the product of Charles's personality, of his views, and of the efforts of those in government who shared them. The king was the guiding spirit, not by virtue of charisma, but because he was the legally rightful ruler of his people. Charles's title to the kingdom did not, however, mean that he shared in the necessary qualities of kingship. It is appropriate to dwell here on the character of Charles Stuart the man, before examining the circles in which he chose to move. The highly emotive circumstances of Charles's eventual death, and the dignified bearing which, amid them, he achieved, have often overshadowed the shortcomings of his rule and their role in creating the tragedies of his reign. Above all, there is a complexity – and inscrutability – about Charles which has hampered our historical understanding. These elements were reflected in the ambivalence with which those who had served him, even for years, summed up his character. Laud saw Charles as a mild and gracious prince who knew not how to be or be made great. Sir Philip Warwick regretted the way in which the king, admittedly in the latter days of the civil war, could be temperamental and uncommunicative in Council. Clarendon, at pains to point out Charles's merits as man and king, was forced to conclude unhappily: ‘His kingly virtues had some mixture and allay that hindered them from shining in full lustre, and from producing those fruits which they should have been attended with.’ [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

Sir Thomas Barrington, writing to his mother, captured the threatening atmosphere overhanging the end of Charles's third Parliament. No man knew what to do, he wrote, ‘the distraction was so sudden and so great …’ Barrington hinted at the possibility of bloodshed which he seems to have feared as the likely outcome of the events of 2 March. He concluded: ‘he whose heart bleeds not at the threat of these times is too stupid. I pray God send us better grounds of comfort, and with all to be armed for the worst that can befall us … ’ The imprisonment of those who had staged the demonstration in the House of Commons was part of Charles's response to what was, from a royal point of view, an extremely threatening situation. Contarini wrote on 6 March: Parliament is dissolved in anger, and without deciding anything… The present times were not suited to disputes of this sort … The courtiers are very disconsolate, foreseeing that they will remain a long time in need, without money, as they have been for many months. The kingdom is furious against the Treasurer, and bears the king very little love … It is bad news for Italy, and the king of Denmark also will be compelled to do what he does not wish … What matters is that Parliament has retained the full possession of its privileges without yielding a jot, for on the last two occasions the king has always yielded something. […] [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

The onset of the Thirty Years War after 1618 destroyed the foreign policy of James I. That policy was very much a product of the king's personality. James was a pacifist who had reacted against the violence of his Scottish background. He was also a lazy man who resented the difficulties posed by conflict and war. In addition he was ambitious. He wished to link his family to the royal line of the Spanish Habsburgs, still the virtual rulers of the world, and he sought to achieve the role of peacemaker in the Europe of his day. On becoming king of England he agreed to end the long Elizabethan war with Spain, and later played an important role in bringing about the twelve years’ Truce of 1609 between Spain and the Dutch. In 1613 the marriage of his daughter Elizabeth to Frederick V, elector Palatine and the leading Calvinist prince of Germany, symbolized his commitment to the Protestant world. His aim was to combine this initiative with the marriage of his son and heir to a Spanish princess and so to fulfil both his diplomatic and dynastic ambitions. When Henry, prince of Wales, died in 1612, negotiations with Spain had come to nothing, and so from 1614 onwards James set about trying to achieve a similar marriage for his younger son Charles. But the king's pan-European diplomacy was dealt a devastating blow by the rash action of his German son-in-law. Against all sound advice, including that of James, in 1619 Frederick accepted the crown of Bohemia in an election disputed by Emperor Ferdinand II. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]