The autumn of 1621 had witnessed the dissolution of the Parliament. This step, which was imputed to the advice of Buckingham, was hastened by a protest from the two houses of commons, declaring “that the liberties, franchises, and jurisdictions of Parliament are the ancient and undoubted birthright of the subjects of England;” asserting the point that the arduous affairs of state, the making of laws and redress of grievances, are the proper subjects of debate in Parliament; and maintaining the privilege of each member to enjoy entire freedom of speech. This protest, which James and his son would have done well to have for ever remembered, was drawn forth by the King’s resentment at the interference in the Spanish marriage.[321] “He considered it,” he said, “presumptuous in the Parliament humbly to beseech him to permit his son to marry a Protestant Princess; and he intimated that if they had fixed upon any person or place, he should have thought it high treason.” Footnote 321: Oldmixon. The proclamation which announced the dissolution was ascribed to the pen of Archbishop Laud, who now exercised an ascendancy over Buckingham; and the King, hastening to London, called a Privy Council, and, sending for the journal of the House of Commons, declared the protest void, and tore it from the book with his own hands.[322] Footnote 322: Ibid. These rash and blamable measures were resented by the whole kingdom. They were followed by acts of oppression and injustice. The first object of the King’s wrath was Henry Vere, Earl of Oxford. This young nobleman, who was endowed with great ability, courage, and high reputation, was one of those young and daring aspirants whose honours were not only inherited from a long series of noble progenitors, but by merit made their own.[323] He had already distinguished himself in the cause that was dearest to the hearts of the English—that of the Palatinate, and had extorted from the King one regiment to employ in the service of his son-in-law, Frederic. The body of men whom he led to the unequal contest, was, says a contemporary, “the gallantest for the persons and outward presence of men,” that, “in many ages, ever appeared at home or abroad.” It consisted almost entirely of gentlemen, the flower of the commoners of England, who went to improve themselves in the art of war, to which the English had for years been strangers. Oxford, with his noble associates and brave soldiers, did all that was possible for man to do; and then, finding that there was no support from England, returned, hopeless, but not disgraced. Footnote 323: Brydges’s Peers of James I.